Chapter 7, Scene 1, Part 13

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Chapter 7

Hooked

Scene 1

"Dry clean only." Wendy flicked the tag on Candy's stained silk black shift with a manicured forefinger. "Do you own a semi-formal dress?" Rachel, naked save for cotton bra and panties and damp from a brief shower, merely shivered in the air-conditioned Bridal Suite. Wendy sighed. "From the expression on your face, I take that as a no."

Mopette yipped enthusiastically from her perch on the cushioned vanity stool, a little princess on a plush throne. Difficult to be upset with such a cutie, Rachel admitted. Mopette loved the company, she realized, and wondered how many hours a day the dog normally spent alone.

Wendy hurried into the walk-in closet jammed with floor length wedding dress, bridesmaid dresses, shoes, and several suitcases-worth of women's clothing arranged on hangers.

"Where are Halden's clothes?" Rachel wondered aloud.

"They booked the room next door to use as his dressing room," came the muffled voice inside the closet. She extracted a silver sequined long-sleeved dress. "Candy decided not to wear this dress this weekend because it's more summery here in Canada than she expected."

Rachel took the sparkly dress, stepped into it. 

"Remove your bra," Wendy warned. "Can't you see it's backless? Oh my god. You're wearing granny panties? Candy wears a thong with that dress. Otherwise lines will show through the stretchy fabric."

Rachel obediently removed her underwear and carefully wiggled into the dress. To her dismay chilled nipples peaked the metallic figure-hugging fabric. It covered her bare derrière with only a couple of inches to spare. The dress was meant for walking in, not sitting.

Wendy crossed her arms, head cocked assessingly. "Your hips are curvier than Candy's, and your torso slightly shorter. Fortunately the stretchy material compensates. What's with that ugly pendant?"

Rachel gulped, fisted it protectively. "It's my lucky charm."

Wendy sighed. "If I let you borrow some of Candy's jewelry, she'll fire me. As it is, I'm on probation. None of her PAs last longer than six months. Where are the black Christian Louboutins?" She scanned the carpet, spied them by the sofa. "Did Mopette pee on them? No matter. We're out of time." Wendy randomly grabbed a crystal perfume bottle from the array on the vanity and spritzed the pricy red-soled shoes.

Rachel thrust swollen, aching toes into them while longing fervently for her comfortable Walmart runners. Savvy little Mopette understood what putting on shoes meant. She yipped happily, hopped down off the stool, and trotted over to the suite entrance.

Wendy inserted two fingers under Mopette's jeweled leather collar and held the door open. "Sorry baby girl, you can't leave. Be a good dog. Rachel will walk you in a few hours." She turned to Rachel. "You have the suite access card?"

"Sure do." Rachel held out her left arm. A plastic card dangled from the coiled wrist band.

Wendy scrunched her snub nose. "Tacky bracelet. We're late, or I'd dig out a clutch to put that in." In the hall Wendy ensured the lock caught, then turned brightly to Rachel. "It's showtime!"

"Lights, camera, action," Rachel weakly rejoined. She clutched the pendant and managed a nervous smile. Wendy had no idea that the phrase represented the key to her future career.

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