[Ambrosia Bellemore]
They were men's clothes.
He gave me freaking men's clothes.
I pick up the faded grey jacket with the tips of my fingers in utter disgust. It was huge, and I was sure I would look like a complete fool when in them. But then I look down at the clothes that I was already wearing and gag.
It thinned down to just two options in the end, really. (A) Look like a humongous gargoyle who's been run over by a truck or (B) Look like a homeless gargoyle who has been run over by a truck, boiled in a pot of poisonous concoction and dragged through half of New York using a tow truck.
I sigh and put on the men's clothes.
The orange shirt, as I'd expected, spreads out unflatteringly to my mid-thigh. Personally, I think I looked like I was wearing an umbrella, upside down. The denim jacket, however had cool flame patterns on them and after I'd done tucking the huge shirt into the white jeans, which fortunately looked like something a woman would wear, I could manage to say that I looked good.
Well, maybe not as far as good, but I could atleast be called a human, and not a Chimpanzee undergoing evolution. And that for me, was good enough.
Checking myself in the full length mirror, I sigh and walk out, hoping no one would see me in these clothes. I was glad of the timing, because I know what Kailey and Lent would've said if they'd have caught sight of me now.
"Is it Halloween already?" That's what.
"Miss Bellemore! So glad you could join us." Calum Achorn, that son of a conspirator, exclaims when I walk with my head down towards the sleek black car that's standing right outside the main door.
I mumble something incorrigible under my breath, curling my hands into fists so that I wouldn't drag him by his ear and throw him out of his own flattering car.
He's your boss, I remind myself. You aren't allowed to kill him. You'll have to go back to Sydney and live under your mother's roof and eat salad until you turn into a huge asparagus if you do.
"West view." He orders dismissively and I settle myself for the purgatory that was shopping with Calum Achorn.
~•~
"Oh my God, Calum! I'd never thought I'd live for the day you walk into my shop!" A thin as a bean pole woman in her mid thirties walks in our direction with her hands wide open to engulf my Boss.
"Valerie. It's nice to see you." My Boss chokes out with difficulty, probably because of the death hold she had on his neck or probably because of the intense perfume she had on. Or probably both.
"How have you been, my oompa loompa?" She drawls seductively, running a red tipped finger gingerly down his chest. I choke up with barely concealed laughter. Something about comparing my Boss with the small, funnily dressed workers of a chocolate factory is hilarious, and completely impossible.
Calum Achorn glares at me over Valerie's head and I compose myself just in time to give him an encouraging smile and a discreet thumbs up. His mouth disappears into a thin line.
"We need clothes, Valerie," He insists, prying her away from his body. "For Cassandra, it's her birthday tomorrow."
I purse my lips in confusion. That name struck a bell. But then I let it go, because I'd the memory span of a goldfish and there was no point in trying to remember, really.
"It is!?" The woman says, her hand flying up to her chest in excitement. She even jumps a little in glee.
Uh, dramatic much?
"Well yes, I just told you. I think Miss Bellemore here would be fairly the same size, so get going." He orders.
"Miss Bellemore? Wher-? Oh. Didn't see you there." She mumbles to herself as she catches sight of me.
"Apparently." I smirk, all too familiar with the likes of her. She smiles sheepishly at me, glancing at Calum slyly.
"Won't you help us with the dress, Calum?" She pleads, her huge eyes shining like a puppy. Personally, I felt like she had more resemblance to a frog.
"No." Curt.
"Oh, come on. You just have to sit and give advice." Desperate.
Calum Achorn looks at me, his face calm, but his eyes begging me for an escape. My smirk grows wider.
"We would appreciate your help, Mr Achorn." I say, smiling sweetly at him.
He scowls, giving me a glare that promised eternal damnation, but I wasn't fazed. It served him right for giving me men's clothes.
"Fine." He sighs, giving up, when he realises that I wasn't going to back down.
"Yay!" Valerie jumps with utmost happiness.
I grin in triumph.
~•~
[Calum Achorn]
If someone told me a few days ago that I would be sitting in a women's trial room, watching Ambrosia Bellemore try on several dresses for my sister's birthday, I would have given him my 'The Stare' until he'd have given up and walked out on his own.
But here I was.
I grit my teeth in disgust, watching the clock on the overhead wall with impatience as the two ladies argued over some trivial matter.
"Come on, Ambrosia! Come out!" Valerie, a friend of Timothy's, and an overly insistent woman, pleads.
"No!"
"But why?" Valerie moans.
"Because I look like a troll." A muffled voice groans from inside.
A chuckle escapes my lips but I cover it quickly with a cough.
"Well it can't be that bad! My best designer made that dress."
"A troll in a pretty dress." Ambrosia amends. Valerie sighs in defeat, turning to me for assistance.
"Ambrosia Bellemore, the time you waste here will be cut off from your paycheck. So I suggest you come out right now." I order, looking back into my phone.
Just then, a text from Timothy pops up.
"Poopy says hello!" It reads, and attached to it is a picture of a muddy brown terrier and a girl, who probably is Caecelia. The dog is smiling into the camera, and Caecelia, well her face is contorted and her eyes are crossed and she's doing weird gestures with her hands.
I sigh.
"You named your dog poopy?" I type and hit send.
"Holy malarial parasites." I hear Valerie gush in surprise, and maybe with a tinge of jealously. My head snaps up to look at the reason for her reaction and..
Lord save me.
~•~
Yeah, I made valerie say Holy malarial parasites. Sue me, I hate Biology.
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