𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝙾𝚝𝚒𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚜 | ONC 2024

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

“You really shouldn't have gone to all the trouble,” Karen said, squeezing Gloria's hands in gratitude. “It's too much. But it's also the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. How can I ever repay you?”

She smiled down at the classy, gold and pink shopping bags from Bloomingdale's and Saks Fifth Avenue that Gloria had gifted her. It was so unexpected. And she was so very touched. Where would she wear such lovely attire? Did it matter? No. It was an incredibly thoughtful (and expensive) gift, and therefore she would simply allow her gratitude to overshadow practicality.

“I insist you never attempt to repay me,” Gloria told her. “I was happy to do it. Shopping is one of my favorite pastimes, after all, so I had a ball! Just promise me you'll retire the muddy brown frocks at least once a week and go somewhere in one of these ensembles. Even if it's just the market or the bookshop. Alright?”

Karen gave her a watery smile and bit her lip to silence a sob. “I promise.”

“Good,” Gloria said with a little wink. “Maybe you can start today and have lunch with me and Karl. Ah! Speaking of, here he is now!”

After breakfast at Gigi's, Gloria had rang Karen, insisting that Karen meet her at the police station. Gloria's husband, an attorney of some renown, was visiting Camilla Otis to offer his legal counsel.

Now, as he rounded the corner and joined them in the lobby, Karl Davenport donned a weary smile.

“You're wearing your Brave Face,” Gloria commented as she observed her husband. “Dare I ask?”

“Well, it's looking quite cut and dry,” Karl stated. “Shame, that. My greatest talent as a lawyer is sussing out loopholes and exploiting the absolute bollocks out of them. I'm sure there's something I can do for her, but there are several other people I'll need to confer with. Weston Otis in particular.”

“You'll come up with a way to defend her, dearest. I just know it!” Gloria declared. “But in the meantime, this is Karen Dwindle. The friend I told you about yesterday. You remember.” She motioned back and forth between them. “Karen, this is my husband, Karl.”

“How do you do, Miss Dwindle?” Karl said, taking her hand and squeezing it warmly. “It's a pleasure.”

“It certainly is,” Karen replied, her eyes large and starstruck. She glanced at Gloria. “He talks like a film star!”

“Doesn't he?” Gloria sighed, smitten. “He's from Cornwall. That's in England, of course. Attended Cambridge for his law degree. I often wonder how I got so lucky!”

“Darling, you are too kind,” Karl said with an affectionate smile. “So, Miss Dwindle, my wife says you're exceptionally bright. What is it you do?”

Karen giggled behind her hand. She could happily listen to Karl Davenport talk all day. “Oh, my job is quite dull, truth be told. I clean up other people's messes.”

“Ah! So, we're in the same line of work!” Karl exclaimed. He winked at his wife. “I like her already.”

“I'm glad to hear that, as I've invited her to join us for lunch,” Gloria said.

“Splendid idea!” Karl declared.

“Karen, why don't you pop into the ladies' room there and change while Karl and I pull the car around?” Gloria suggested.

“Yes, we'll be right out front for you,” Karl said. “Bright yellow Rolls Royce. The same shade as Gloria's hair. You can't miss it.”

Karen squealed in delight. “Sounds wonderful! Yes, I'll be along in a minute!”