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The next day, Erin and I focused on finding a dress with the "it" factor. It was like senior prom all over again, minus the over excitement of the whole process with your closest girlfriends, the heebie-jeebies, and the aggravation over a girl wearing the same dress as you.
We had gone around the deepest pit of downtown to search for a dress fit for a short girl like me, a colour that would bring out the color of my eyes (blame Erin for being extra anal about this stuff), and just the right design that would impress a man with high caliber like Marcus.
We surrendered after long day of walking around the city, basking under the Toronto heat. We finally agreed on hunting online and see if it was available in store.
It hadn't been too long since and we had spotted the greatest contender.
I had never seen anything like it before. No matter how much I despised wearing tube dresses, my eyes couldn't resist the delicate detailing of this one particular garment with an eye-catching red and black motif.
It was a little plain at the back—nothing really crazy yet the single layered lace of red on top of the black garment was a statement-maker. Nothing had made happier than two colors mixed together in one masterpiece.
The goddess of luck was not on our side as we found ourselves restless—the dress with the "it" factor was already discontinued by the designer. In fact, it wasn't even that affordable either.
I let out a loud sigh then shut the laptop down before the disappointment run spread like poison.
Why post it the website anyway? That's just frustrating.
"I don't know what's with the big fuss with this dress hunting, Erin. I'll just wear the one I brought with me." I persuaded my best friend but she only gave me a fierce look.
I was too tired to look anyways. It was almost eleven at night and my feet were practically thumping from sore.
The dress I had brought with me was a pastel pink halter dress that I bought on sale back in Vancouver. It was suited to be worn on a bright day—summer appropriate due to its very light fabric or even a casual dinner on a local eatery. The embroidery wasn't at all special but it hugged my body at the right places and it didn't reveal unnecessary skin. Just add a suede belt and the dress was already fabulous.
The color from my best friend's face drained. "You don't mean to wear a common dress to a romantic dinner, do you?"
"We are not going to a romantic dinner. Besides, he didn't specify where we're going exactly."
"Emerald, this is not just a date. This is the date. He said dress nice, so you will."
I almost laughed out loud at her remark. "Don't make it sound like he is about to propose to me, Erin. I'm a girl on a mission here and I just need to blend in."
Even though I am his pretend girlfriend, he didn't need to make an effort to be this romantic since this is just a play. In a matter of three, short weeks, the deal will dissolve and it'll be a happily ever after—for Marcus, anyway.
"It's better safe than sorry, Emerald. You don't want to underdress."
"I don't want to overdress, either, and stop sounding like a condom commercial." The slogan had reminded me of the public washroom ad I had read countless times. It was quite the entertainment during a long bathroom break.
"He could take you anywhere, somewhere fancy like a five-star restaurant." She argued without a hint of surrender.
"Or, he could take me to a local ice cream shop and drown ourselves in vanilla and chocolate ice cream," I pressed on. "The possibilities are endless."
Erin shot me daggers. "Ice cream shop in a suit-and-tie and a dress?" she scoffed. "Yeah, I don't think so."
I grunted as she opened the laptop once more, vigorously searching for another alternative that could compete with the dress we were feasting our eyes on just a few moments ago.
Had Marcus made it clear where we were going tomorrow, maybe I wouldn't have to put up with Erin's hysteria mode. God knew I loved my best friend like my own biological sister, but her perfectionist lateral could be a vice once in a while.
Count this day as one of hell-ish days.
That reminded me; we needed to buy a new pair of pumps. Another sigh escaped my mouth at the thought of it.
Just as I was about to step out of the living room and in to the kitchen for a refill of a refreshment, the bell rang.
I made a detour to the door to see who would come over at this ungodly hour—only Marcus would.
My high hopes quickly faded when I opened the door, only to see a mailman in his uniform, carrying two rectangular boxes on top of each other. The man looked a little older than me, around his early twenties. He was beaming at me like a fool.
"I have a delivery for... Miss Emerald Wren," he read the roughly handwritten note on top of the box.
"Is this legal?" I probed, my eyebrows furrowed automatically at him. "I mean, delivering a parcel at this time. It's past business hours, mister."
He just shrugged with the same smile. "I'm just glad to be at your service, miss."
"Who is it from? I didn't order anything."
He glanced at the note once again. "This is from Mr. Marcus Don Valentine."
I chuckled inwardly. You're glad to be at my service because Marcus paid you good cash, didn't he?
I just faked a smile anyway as I took the boxes off of his hand. I was getting a little curious about what contained the boxes. I had a hunch that the lightweight packages had something to do with where we were headed tomorrow.
Or it can also be a huge cake. Who knows?
Either way, it'd make me ecstatic though it would only take a while to finish a cake this big.
My hands were full so I closed the door behind me with a slight kick. Erin scooted over the couch where I placed the boxes. She studied them a bit and nodded.
"Who is it from?"
"The pretend boyfriend,"
"Oh! I hope its cake," she joked and I laughed at her remark. We really did think alike. She slid the upper part of the smaller box slightly and peeked through the little crack. A tiny gasped escaped her mouth then quickly shut the box.
"Whoa. Those are shiny!" she said with a hint of excitement in her azure eyes.
Deep inside me was a little voice, squealing in delight at the little gift I got from Marcus. My brain, on the other hand, was reminding me that it was all part of the play and that I had to remind that to myself.
The brain, as usual, overpowered. With a calm, cool, and collected attitude, I removed the lid and oh boy, needless to say, the pumps were the embodiment of shiny.
It could almost be mistaken as a glass slipper that Cinderella had worn at the ball. The shiny crystals were carefully placed on the straps and the heel. What fascinated me was it was a pair of Jimmy Choo's. It was just beautiful.
"Try it on!" Erin exclaimed.
I did what she just told me and took the pair out of the box. The crystals sparkled the moment it hit the light. It fit just fine and I knew that the moment I tried it on, there was no going back. As if on cue, I tried on the other pair and stood up. I felt a foot taller because of the high heels. I took a step and held my balance as I continued to pace with great focus. The last thing I wanted to do was to lose balance and put the magnificent pair of Jimmy Choo's to shame.
Erin was in awe as I was. "It's just really bad that you're a six and I'm an eight!"
"How did he know my shoe size?" Now that I thought about it, I never mentioned anything about my shoe size.
Erin pouted. "I dun' no. But he nailed it so who cares?"
All the worries and unnecessary qualms aside, I let it slide as I removed the Cinderella-like pair of pumps. My hand reached out for the second box—it was slightly wider than the first one and a little lighter too.
Without hesitation, I removed the top lid of the light pastel box, only to reveal a thin layer of the same colour and vanilla-scented gift wrap on top.
The vanilla scent filled my nostrils instantly as I removed it gently, trying not to tear the paper. I couldn't hold my gasp the moment I laid eyes on what contained the box. It was a shade of vivid cerise lace as an overlay to a nude thin fabric holding the lace together. I picked up the dress and let my eyes feast on the shimmering beaded crystal along the waistline and around the bodice. The length was just perfect and I thought it would fit perfectly with the pair he had brought along. Nothing about the dress had intimidated me so far, except the fact that the dress would allow a silhouette of my breasts to peek through.
At the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a note taped under the lid of the dress's box. My inquisitiveness got the best of me as I snagged it off and read the hand-written note.
I chuckled inwardly. First of all, he had nice handwriting and second, Marcus had potential, at least he had a romantic bone in his body. The note and the endearment did not fail to wake up the hopeless romantic in me.
A stain of ink from behind the note made me flipped it over. A genuine smile escaped me at his additional note.
I felt like a spoiled princess, truth be told. If Marcus was this thoughtful and romantic, it was no wonder that women were swooned by him.
I felt the surge of blood run up my cheeks as I imagined Marcus grinning and random images of his gleeful laugh started rolling on top of my head like a movie, sending a plight on my already-confusing-pretend-relationship with him.
With my situation, a thick coating of complication was piled on like icing on a cake. I accepted a selfish contract which both benefited us, not knowing if I would hurt anybody along the way—or hurt myself even before this would come to an end.
Playing a faux girlfriend role without catching feelings was like swimming alone in an ocean without a safety vest on. I knew I couldn't swim long enough yet I was willing to exhaust myself until I couldn't hold it anymore and before I know it, I would then just.... drown.
I let out a tired sigh as my head started to ache. Overthinking was a disease spreading inside me.
I finally placed the note into my pocket and put aside the items to retire for the night.
"You're not bringing the boxes in our room?" Erin asked as she stood by the bedroom door.
I shook my head. "They will be there in the morning."
Erin shrugged and entered the room. I strode towards the end of the hallway where the walk-in closet was, pulling out a pair of comfortable pajamas.
After changing, I proceeded to the bedroom where Erin was sleeping soundly with a little bit of snore. It was such a long day and she had released a lot of her energy to find the perfect dress. Thank goodness the search was over.
I tiptoed towards my side of the room, trying not to wake up my best friend from her deep slumber. I slammed my body flat on the mattress and heard my best friend groan. I muttered my apology and sighed in relief that I did not totally ruin her sleep.
The fatigue washed all over my body like cold ice the moment it hit the flat surface. I let my back relax for a little bit as I patiently waited for The Sandman to sprinkle me gold dust for a goodnight sleep and a pleasant dream.
I turned my weight on the side where my phone had been charging the whole night.
His phone number was clearly written on the note—and my palms itched to save his number right away.
I reached out my phone and held it with a mighty grip for a good few seconds. What harm would it do if I quickly send him my thanks? Nothing, right?
Right.
Great. I was slowly losing my sanity from this inner debate.
I shook off the thought and tapped the number into my phone and saved. My fingers quickly typed in a message.
It was a rather quirky message to begin with but I didn't care and pressed send anyway. I tucked it in under my pillow and closed my eyes.
After a few seconds, my phone vibrated. I shot up a brow at his quick reply. I was expecting him to send a response in little over five minutes or by tomorrow because he could be asleep by now. But I was mistaken. I just shrugged it off and pulled out my phone from underneath.
A smile carved my mouth and my fingers started to tap my reply.
I grunted internally. My mind managed to turn the decent wink emoticon to a suggestive remark. Whatever he meant by a long day, I hoped we steer clear of any hotel or anything that would include just as two and a bed.
No, that was even more wrong. I shouldn't be thinking that way. Marcus wouldn't be able to withstand a boring person like me so he shouldn't have any motive to seclude ourselves in a private room.
I almost fell out of my bed when my phone blasted my maxed out ringtone. Adrenaline rushed through me that I didn't notice how I exited the room with my phone in hand and not waking up my best friend. She must either be just very, very tired or I possessed Flash's ultra-speed power. I found myself standing by the hallway and tapped the answer call.
"Are you okay? I didn't get a goodnight text back," Marcus said with a raspy voice. His phone voice was a little rough compare to his voice in person. It must be the reception, but it sounded good to me.
I cleared my throat. "Sorry, I was distracted but I was going to reply when you suddenly called."
"Are you texting another guy?" he asked, his tone low.
"Why? Is that a problem?"
I thought it was a funny joke to taunt and rile him just a bit but it only backfired. There was silence between us and it slowly stretched as I waited for him to answer with a witty reply.
"You still there?" I said, breaking the silence.
Finally, he sighed. "Ah, yeah. Are you actually talking to somebody else?"
That made me curious. "No, not really. Why?"
"That's an unwritten rule between us."
"For a real couple, hell yes that's an unwritten rule. We're a fake, remember?"
"Fake or not, you shouldn't contact other guys. We should commit to this like it's the real thing, you know."
Like a real thing, huh? Well, you're doing well so far.
"Why not? It's not like I'm going to abandon the deal if I ever find a summer love affair," I retorted.
Marcus groaned and it only made me chuckle inwardly. I was surprisingly entertained. "Emerald, you're killing me with this topic. It's just how it goes, alright?"
My heart thumped faster as my ears heated up. What did he mean by that? Somewhere deep inside me was a little victorious from hearing him a little worried about my finding a possible lover. Although it was close to impossible, he was affected by that fact.
I smiled. "Goodnight, Marcus " I told him in a sing-song tone. "That's all you wanted to hear, right?"
"Yes. Goodnight, Emerald."
I hung up the phone right away, the memory of our conversation had left me grinning like a hyena. I couldn't quite grasp if it was just me or he did sound a little bit... melancholic when he said goodnight. I remembered he said I was killing him with our topic—I hoped it wasn't a literal statement.
I should feel bad about it but it was quite amusing to listen to his side of Marcus. My cheeks beneath my palms started to heat up as the crispness of his voice resounded in my head. The familiar rhythmic thumping of my heart had me on edge— it was a bad sign.
Relax, Emerald. There's no way you're changing hearts that quickly.
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A/N: I officially love the fact that I can add images within my story~ I think it adds some edge to the story. I hope you guys enjoy this and I'll be posting some chapters soon~
Song: ♪ Any Other Way by Daniela Andrade ♪