The Dress

11 3 7
                                    

Pick up V. 419 Boylston Street. Bring her home, out of town for tonight. Work with William.

I didn't recognise the address. Wasn't Mags' or nothing. Didn't seem to be residential either, so I didn't really know what she was up to. I kinda knew what he was up to, well, at least I was piecing it together somewhat.

It was a nice part of Boston. Real nice. All fancy couples and shiny cars. It doesn't surprise me that she'd be here, it's definitely her kinda place.

The address takes me to some fancy looking shop. All painted white and gold with big windows and crystals. There are dresses in the windows, so my first guess is the Boss is throwing money at her so she leaves him alone.

My phone buzzes as I'm about to go in;
Make sure she takes her medicine.

Didn't realise she was on nothing.

I walk in without a second thought. The bell above the door jingles loudly and irritatingly, I pushed the door a little harder than I meant to and the handle bumps against the wall. Immediately the woman behind the counter looks up and glares at me.

"I think you're lost," she almost growls, her words full of venom, I roll my eyes. I ain't surprised by her reaction, I'm used to not being good enough for her world.

"Yeah yeah, whatever, where's Mrs Everly?"

"Porter?"

Her voice is soft, but has that nervous tone to it that I weren't expecting. Normally when the boss is letting her go wild with his credit card she's happy.

"Hey! Wait," the woman behind the desk shrieks as I walk past her, "this is a private business you can't just walk around like you own the place!"

I catch myself rolling my eyes again. And follow where I think I heard her voice into a side room that has way too many mirrors than are necessary. I'm stopped again, this time out of my own damn confusion.

"Vanessa?"
The stern looking woman in front of me looks like her but looks... wrong. The eyebrows are too thin, her cheekbones are too high. Her nose has a slight hook in it that I'd never noticed before. Her hair was also dyed half black and I couldn't even imagine she'd do that to herself.

It couldn't be her.

"God, Vanessa. Not another one."

The voice is strange. She has the accent and she sounds familiar but... it's weird. I don't like it.

"Oh, Camilla, leave him be."

Camilla?
Camilla, Camilla, Camilla?

"Porter, I don't believe you and my sister have met. Camilla this is Porter Gage, Gage, this is Camilla. Gage works for Nate."

"Oh, so he is another one."

I shake her hand when she offers it. It's a limp handshake, like she barely even wants to touch me.

"Mila," she scolds, still sounding as though she was in another room. I pushed past the other woman, she trotted behind me.

And then I saw her.

Her platinum blonde hair covered by a long, sheer piece of fabric. Standing in a puffy white gown. I'm not a weak man but seeing her like this is almost dizzying.

"Vanessa?" My voice sounds... hoarse.
She looks at my reflection in the mirror, and then over her shoulder at me. Her eyes are already shining, and her smile looks forced.

"Hello to you too, Porter," she croaks, smoothing her skirts before turning to face me. A redheaded woman I don't recognise is in the room too, she smiles and nods her head to me. I'm too confused about what the fuck is going on here to respond.

What Goes Around Comes AroundWhere stories live. Discover now