104. My Fantasy Outfit

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I didn't know what to say. I mean, this kid was the intern who could do no wrong. She was just a temp, but it seemed that there was someone on the board making sure that she had every opportunity she could possibly want. Carter was probably one of the least problematic people I had authority over; I often saw her doing things that probably had no connection to her job at all, but I'd never heard of her missing a deadline or an important meeting, and that was probably a lot more important to the people who paid our wages, I just wished I knew where I stood with her, because she always had this weird attitude like she had it all figured out, and I didn't know why. She was clearly the most junior member of the team, the easiest scapegoat if anything went wrong, but she didn't seem to worry at all. And that made some part of me worry if she had old money behind her; family ties that could shield her from any office politics.

I didn't know anything about Carter. She never mentioned family, or a boyfriend, or anything outside the office. Or maybe I'd been so focused on my career that I just didn't listen unless the person talking might have some impact on my career. That was a sobering revelation. But now here she was, looking at a wedding dress. And maybe more importantly, she was looking at dresses from a major designer label; the handmade creations that would have put a significant strain on my budget. How could a mere intern even consider something like that? And why did I feel like I should have known if she was involved with someone? Maybe I needed to start paying more attention to the people around me.

"No big deal," I said. "I didn't mean to disturb something private, it's just... Well, it's a nice dress. Caught my eye from across the room."

"Yeah, it's kind of distinctive. I'm trying to find good suggestions for... well, a friend, I guess. She's got a strong personality, and I want to make sure the dress shows it off. You like this one? I wasn't sure if the shoulder pads would be a bit too much."

"Yeah, I guess," I found myself looking at it more closely now, taking in all the details. "I mean, it could make a statement if your friend is strong and confident. Almost daring the guests to say something. But I think it would be a bit too much for most people."

"Thanks," she said with a smile. "Actually, I think when it comes to personality you're a lot like her. I've been scared of recommending something that would seem too generic, or not stamp her personality on it hard enough, but it's hard to spot when it would be going too far. Maybe... I know it's not actually work related, but could you help me with this?"

"I... umm..."

There was no way I would ever volunteer to spend work hours helping one of my coworkers with a project that wasn't remotely related to our jobs. Even most of the ones I considered friends, I would only think about something like that if I were getting something out of it. But that dress was beautiful, and so fanciful. I could just imagine wearing something like that; daring anyone to criticise.

"Yeah, while you asked so nicely," I said, and flashed her a smile. "But you'd best be giving the message queues your full attention later; we've got a lot of work to get through today."

I shouldn't be doing this. But I did. I went to my desk and opened up the links that Carter had sent me. I looked at dresses, and little articles about all the little details; about what the length of your train could say about your personality, and about the message your guests could get from the simple choice of white or ivory fabric. It was a lot more complex than I had realised, at least if the experts at Emmerson and Collier were to be believed. There was so much symbolism, and as soon as I had heard about it, I felt I needed to know more.

In the end I spent most of the morning browsing wedding dresses. Carter had said that her friend was a powerful woman, proud of herself and the life she had forged. She was determined to show no weakness and no compromise, so she wanted a dress that would showcase her determination and power. I could see a lot of those traits in myself as well. So perhaps I really was the right person to ask. I couldn't be sure that her friend would like the same things I did, but when I looked for dresses that would meet the criteria she had given me, most of the ones I found were the same ones I might have considered buying if I was shopping on that site.

After a quick break for lunch, I decided to see if there was anything more suitable from a different retailer. After all, her friend didn't have to get everything from the same designer. Maybe Emmerson & Collier were doing everything for the bridesmaids, but I'd already found on their site that their designers were prepared to work with third party concepts. You could show them a dress from anywhere and they would make sure that your bridesmaids match; and that sounded like an amazing idea to me. Having the designs from two different creative minds would be good for setting the bride separate from her entourage; it would make her stand out and reinforce the impression of power, probably on a subconscious level that was too subtle for most people to even realise.

The more I looked through these dresses, the more I realised that I wasn't really thinking about Carter's friend. I was imagining what I would wear to my wedding. It was surprisingly easy to imagine, and that made me think yet again about what I really wanted out of my life. A year ago I had been absolutely certain that being Mistress's thrall was all that would ever matter to me. Last autumn, I had realised when Tess arrived just how much I missed the child she had been the last time I looked after her. And I had known then that the most important thing was to get that child back so that I could dote on my little forever. But now everything was looking more complex, and there were so many different drives in my mind. Sure, I wanted Tess to be my little. Who could ever say no to that? But at the same time, there was a part of me that wanted her to be happy too, and I didn't know how to deal with that. For the first time I could remember, I wasn't really sure what I wanted to do, or what was important to me.

Then I looked back at the screen, and I knew that this was an itch that needed to be scratched. Not because of anything about a relationship, or my silent dreams of wearing something like this. But because I had taken on a challenge; and once I'd started something, I didn't want to abandon it incomplete. It was like seeing a picture hanging crooked, or a jigsaw puzzle unfinished. I couldn't just ignore it.

I looked at cheaper dresses. Not cheap ones, because the kind of friend I was imagining from Carter's description would never consider buying anything but the best. But maybe less famous, more distinctive. A respected name, but not a big fashion house. Indie designer maybe, one of the exclusive ones. As I looked through some more sites, I could see lines similar to the design that Carter had said was her best choice so far. And I looked at some of them, but I felt like her friend would more appreciate something distinctive, just a little bit out of the ordinary. The friend was powerful, driven, and very firm when she knew she was in the right. She sounded like me in a lot of ways.

And I found that the more sites I searched, the more I was imagining myself in these incredible costumes. Perhaps not the extremely expensive ones where you were just paying for the label, but I found a lot that would suit me so well. I could visualise it now; but I didn't know whether I could imagine Ffrances in another dress, or in a suit. Once or twice I even caught myself giggling at the mental image of my lover coming to our wedding in one of her extreme, highly-formal fetish outfits. It was a proper dinner suit, it just happened to be a very revealing one made primarily from red PVC and faux leather. What would she actually wear? I had no idea.

And what would we put Tess in? that was a big question as well. She was practically our baby now, so if we were making our family official she had to be the bridesmaid. I couldn't imagine her in a smaller version of any of the dresses I had looked at, so I found myself looking at other options as well, trying to find something that would work for my little one. It had to be cute, to let everyone know how little she was. But this was also an event that would always be in her memory, especially when she was ready to start calling me Mommy. So it couldn't be uncomfortable, and it couldn't be embarrassing for her. It would need to cover her diaper without showing it off at all, so that it was only obvious she was wearing one if you already knew it was there. And it needed to be something that would fit her tastes as well as my own; that was the hard part. But I was determined to make sure that my little was as comfortable as she could be in her costume for this special day.

I was still wrapped up in all the designs when I got a note from my calendar to say that I should be in a meeting about accommodation for some of the Claughton contractors. That was a big deal, because very few people knew that "contractors" in this context meant the cream – or at least the stuff that floated to the top – of Hollywood society. I couldn't keep looking at dresses, so I saved the tab to open again later, sent Carter links to the three that had seemed most likely to suit her mysterious friend, and dashed off to do my actual job. Leaving myself a mental note on the way not to forget about calling great-aunt Collette when I got back, so she might just be able to help me find some cheese that I could exchange for a photograph that I could turn into a gold ring to make all my plans come together.

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