A Day With Grace
Laurel's POV
Grace and I watch another model turn and walk back up the runway and disappear behind the curtain.
"Ad that is the last dress we have for you this afternoon." Cynthia announces, clasping her hands together.
She's been standing next to the miniature runway promoting and attempting to sell us on these bridesmaids dresses for the last three hours. A majority of the dresses were atrocious. Once upon a time we'd catch a glimpse of a good dress, and boy was it a sight for sore eyes.
"Ok, thank you Cynthia." Grace smiles politely.
Cynthia nods and leaves the room. Oh, thank god it's over.
"Thank heaven that is over with. Let us get out of here before she pulls us into something else." Grace whispers, patting my leg.
We both get up and rush out of the boutique to the car.
"I am so very sorry you had to go through that." Grace laughs, going back over to the passenger side of the car.
"It's okay." I laugh too as we climb into the car. "Maybe today was just an off day for Cynthia."
"It is nice of you to try and give her the benefit of the doubt." Grace smiles, brushing her gorgeously silky hair out of her face. "But today was not an off day."
"Well damn." I shrug. "I did try."
"I know." Grace shakes her head humorously.
"So where to?" I sigh contently, putting on my seatbelt.
"Well," she starts, looking down at her expensive gold watch on her wrist. "It is only 12:15. The fitting appointment is not until 3. We may do whatever you wish until then."
"I don't know what I would want to do. I've never been to Oxford, so whatever you'd suggest."
Graces purses her lips in thought before she speaks up.
"Now that I think, there is something I could use your help with."
"What's that?" I asked confused.
"Julia's wedding present. I can not think of what to get for her. And from how speaks of you, you would be the one person who would know exactly what I should get her."
"The way she speaks of me? What do you mean?"
"Oh, nothing really." she dismisses it quickly. "Let's go get us some coffee, yes?"
"Uh, sure." I squint my eyes suspiciously.
"My favorite cafe is just a small distance up the road."
"Ok then." I say, turning on the car.
I wait for an opportunity, then I pull into the light traffic. I listen to Grace's brief instructions about how to get to the cafe and we're parking again in no time.
"Have you ever had coffee from England?" Grace asks as we unbuckle our seat belts.
"I haven't actually."
"You will love this cafe then. The combination of flavors and the different country-grown coffee beans really makes the coffee taste a million times better than American coffee.
"I'll be the judge of that." I grin.
Grace just smiles and leads me into the cafe. The inside of the small building is warm and homey. It's all different shades of tan and brown with tall tables and couches dispensed among the area.
