Twice The Trouble

Chapter 81: Confrontation

Stacy

Shopping Therapy. It has never failed me before.

I am still at the mall, walking around and burning holes through my bank account just to bury the unreasonable pain in my heart.

A helpful shop assistant, who with her glossy chestnut ponytail and golden limbs looked like she should actually be modeling the clothes rather than selling them, led me around the boutique and in moments I was on my way to the dressing room with an armful of gorgeous frocks.

The best part about Retail Therapy is: I'm free to splurge on whatever I wanted (up to a point). Ever since I was thirteen years old, I've been earning money from altering and designing clothes for my friends, schoolmates who didn't hate me, and neighbors. Word of my talent spread around town like wildfire, and soon, I was hired to be a fashion consultant and eventually, a part-time model.

Inside one of the fitting rooms, I removed my denim jacket, white sundress, and brown boots, my pink headband clinking to the cushioned stool in the act of stripping down to my underwear.

An excited squeal escaped me as my sky blue eyes landed on the pile of colorful garments:

There was a black, spaghetti-strap full length number, a white, round-neck skater-style dress, a rose-pink Grecian gown, and a very promising apple-red strapless cocktail gown. I stuck my hand through the sparkling mess of silk, cotton, and chiffon fabrics and randomly fished out a sexy night-colored body-con dress.

I shimmied into it with ease. I pushed my wavy blonde hair over my bare shoulders,then I turned to face the wall-to-ceiling mirror which occupied one whole wall of my fitting room.

"How are you doing in there, Miss Stacy?" asked the kind saleslady from outside the fitting stall.

I called out in response: "I'm trying on the black body-con."

"How does it look?" she asked.

Pretty damn good, I thought. The black material softly caressed my slim curves. I swiveled left and right, marveling at how perfectly the outfit suited me. The black, off-shoulder dress revealed my bare shoulders and collarbone. The skirt's hem was cut above my knees. It looked simple and elegant. Alluring but not showing too much skin to be labeled as provocative.

"May I see you in the dress?"

I pushed open the white door of the fitting stall and presented myself to the saleslady.

"You look wonderful, Miss Stacy."

I know. "Thank you," I modestly told her.

Not wanting to waste too much of my savings, I drew the line after trying on two casual dresses, three semi-casual gowns, one tiered top, one pair of jeans, and two pairs of shoes.

I approached the counter with my haul, then I handed over my credit card to the cashier. While she dutifully scanned my items, I saw another stunning blouse on a mannequin. It was a plain gray wrap blouse with a conservative v-neck and short angel sleeves.

The saleslady who helped me earlier caught me staring at the gray top.

I smiled at her. "Miss, does this come in a different color?" I pointed at the blouse on the mannequin.

"Yes, ma'am.This way, please." She guided me to a rack of clothes and I was able to select the same blouse in a different color--Robin's egg-blue.

I was surrendering the light blue top to the cashier when, to my shock, I saw Bryce standing outside the store!

What the hell was he doing here? Was he following me?