"We're back," Rune tells an attractive, late middle-aged woman and a young, artsy-looking one chatting behind the counter of the lovely high-end boutique we've entered. It's the sort of place I only go to with my sister Sydney because the price tags give me heart failure.
The older woman with silver hair in a knot on the top of her head has that air of being the owner about her. She's all in black, sporting a fantastic pair of bold crimson statement glasses and matching lipstick, both look great with her hair.
When she comes from behind the counter carrying an armload of clothes, I see that Black Doc Martin high tops complete her outfit. Fresh. I love the Pacific Northwest.
"I think it's going to be the dark green suit," she tells Rune conversationally as she gives me a friendly once-over and hangs up the clothes in a curtained dressing room.
"You're probably right," Rune agrees as if they're old friends, "Try the green one on first, sweetheart," he says to me, squeezing my shoulder before sitting down next to Lorelei on one of the two plush chairs not far from the dressing rooms.
Ah. Here we go again. It's girlfriend time. Lorelei gives me the okay sign and starts looking through one of her new magazines. What has Rune told her? Or does he call everyone sweetheart, and I never noticed? Is Lorelei in on our ruse of pretending to be in a relationship?
If she is, I'm not sure what I think about that. I've been learning as an adult how inappropriate some of the things were that my mother and her mother (my grandmother) used to share with me when I was a kid. I’m always careful with my nephew Nils, and now Lorelei.
Inside the well-lit dressing room, being watched by a full-length mirror, I slip off my jeans and put on the pair of pants in the larger size of the green suits. There are also two identical light peachy pink suits and several dress shirts. The suits are all made of lightweight wool, which is good. You can never tell what the temperature will be here, even in July.
The trousers are high-waisted with front pleats that drape elegantly into wide legs, but they’re too big. Apparently, I still haven't gained back much of the weight I lost from grieving Theo. I remove them, carefully attach them to their hanger again, and put on the smaller size. These fit perfectly.
I take off my sweater, slip the jacket over my tank top, and gaze at my reflection as I belt it. I've never owned anything to wear this expensive in my entire life. Everything about it is understated but costly. The buttons, the fine quality of the stitching, the luxurious matching satin lining.
For all that my mother dresses to the nines, it's also in vintage, and rarely top designers. She's good at hunting out bargains and having them repaired and tailored. My sister and I weren't showered with hipster wardrobes like most kids we knew at school. My parents taught us that true style is about investing in a few good pieces and accessorizing.
They bought us clothes when we were young, but by middle school, we were expected to start earning money to buy our own. They were united in taking a stand against helicopter parenting and credit card debt because my dad's Italian. They just don't do that kind of thing, and my mom was trying to be different from her extravagant, always in-debt mother.
This suit is definitely an investment piece. I almost fainted when I glanced at the price tag. I'll certainly be able to confidently walk into The Pink Door in this. I'd be able to walk into any top-tier restaurant in LA, New York, or even Milan wearing this.
The jacket has padding in the shoulders, not quite as wide as the 40s or even the 80s, but enough that makes the waist narrow dramatically. It’s also longer than most suit jackets and so chic.
"Are you ever coming out?" Rune asks from the other side of the heavy curtain, "or did you escape into Narnia?"
"I'm considering it," I tell him as I step out, "I think even the White Witch would be jealous of me in this."
He steps back, studying me intently in a way that makes my pelvic region dance happily.
"Where's the tank top to go with it," He asks.
"Oh, back in a sec…" I quickly duck into the dressing room again, In between the dress shirts, there's a silky light green top, cut lower than what I'm wearing. When I put it on and the jacket over it, it makes it appear that I have nothing on underneath. Wow, it’s sexy in a polished, sophisticated way.
"You know her well," the shop owner says admiringly to Rune as I make my appearance again, "the color is perfect on her."
"It's their anniversary," Lorelei pipes up from over her magazine, "can you believe they've been together for thirteen years?"
"Pup!" Rune barks a laugh, shaking his head as he sits down next to her again but bites it back. I say nothing since I'm in the dark as to how much Lorelei knows about his scheme.
"It's fun to have young, cool parents," the saleswoman tells Lorelei with a wink, which makes her giggle, but before Lorelei can respond, Rune cuts her off.
"The pants are the right length," he says, looking at the younger woman, "But I think the sleeves need to be shortened a little."
"Yes," she agrees, and steps forward to gently take my right sleeve in her hands, quickly folding it under about half an inch and deftly pining it in. I gaze a little longingly at her interesting mix of peach and pink hair in a braid around her head. But I don't think Rune would be happy if I dyed my hair right before this important lunch.
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"Hold on," Rune jumps up, "I forgot something." We all watch him dash to where he hung his leather tote bag near the register. He slips a tissue paper-wrapped package out and strides back toward us, "You need this," he says as he unwraps it and carefully shakes out a beautiful vintage floral scarf I recognize from Theo's collection.
"Is that a vintage Gucci?" the young seamstress asks reverently.
"It is," Rune says, "How should she wear it?" He holds the scarf it up against the suit. The deep greens in the scarf match the suit perfectly, the pinks and yellows in the flower make the rich color pop.
"You snuck this out of the barn?" I ask, not sure if I should be impressed or annoyed.
"Yes," he admits, not sounding embarrassed at all, "I bought my mom one very similar to it when I went to the Gucci headquarters in Florence several years ago. It's a particularly valuable piece Seashell, I thought you should keep it."
Okay, I'm not annoyed. I’m impressed.
"Let's try something like this," the shop owner says, taking the scarf and folding it in a large triangle. She drapes it over my shoulder, slipping it underneath the collar and broad lapel. Next, she tucks the scarf under the slender belt at the waist in both the front and back and pulls it smooth, so it falls almost to the bottom of the jacket, evenly. I've never seen a scarf worn like this before, but it looks fantastic.
**
Friday evening I'm making brine for spicy dill refrigerator pickles with both cucumbers and carrots prepped in their own jars. Rune texted a little while ago to see if I wanted to watch Howl's Moving Castle with him and Lorelei tonight. I'd love to. That would certainly keep me off my computer and freaking myself out as I look up more proof of Julia Endo's beauty and fame. But I declined politely.
I need to chill and maybe talk to a girlfriend. I don't need to have any more lustful thoughts about Rune when he just dropped so much money on me. Yes, it's because I'm doing him a favor, and he wants me to look good for his ex, but still.
And then there's the news he shared about Franklin Haus being a monster, which makes me feel sick and guilty whenever I think about it. I know it’s not my fault, but still. It’s just so awful.
I texted my sister, but she sent back that it wasn't a good time. Marguerite's out of town, Luna's having a date night, and I'm not in touch enough with my old college friends back to call just about this.
Finally, I sent a note to Vivienne asking if she's around tonight, and then I found this recipe, so I keep busy and off my computer. When my phone rings with her tone, I snatch it up eagerly.
"I'm sorry to barge in on your Friday night," I apologize.
"No worries, Matthias is visiting family in Holland this week," Vivienne tells me, "What's going on?"
"I think I've agreed to do something for Rune that isn't very smart," I rush out, stirring the pickle brine a little too vigorously, "How are you?" I add, awkwardly.
"A little star struck. Myriam invited me to a fancy party on Sunday in the Hollywood Hills. She wants to introduce me to people who might give my eBook a positive blurb and give it a PR bump."
"Wow, how cool! What are you going to wear?"
"My light lemon linen suit, my magic color, but hold on," Vivienne says, "let's get into your situation first. Why are you worried about what you agreed to?"
I tell her the highlights, including running into Ian at lunch and how Rune behaved, which gives her a good laugh. Then I tell her about Rune needing me to continue to act like his girlfriend for Julia next Thursday.
"Are you sure he isn't finding a sneaky way to slip you into that role in real life?" Vivienne asks, "You told me he's shy."
"Yes, but he also told me he's an unavailable hot mess right now," I remind her. I don't tell her I now know now why he’s a hot mess, of course, or that he’s a serial womanizer because of it.
"Oh right," she says, tapping on her computer, "Goodness, Julia’s a glamour queen; what the heck are you going to wear?"
"I know," I say glumly, "Fortunately, I'm well-armored in the suit he bought me today. And I'll be wearing it with a matching vintage Gucci scarf Rune snuck out of Theo’s collection.”
"Now you're cooking with gas!" She exclaims happily, "So, what's the big challenge with all of this?"
"What if someone snaps a pic of us at lunch with Julia and posts it on social media?" I say worriedly.
"What if they do?" She asks, sounding unconcerned.
"I'll be roasted alive by nasty, judgmental comments," I complain.
"Shelby, someone might have already posted one of those cute pics of the two of you from the fundraiser," she says sagely, "they might be making mean comments as we speak."
"Crap. I hadn't thought of that," I turn off the brine and set it aside to cool before I pour over the garlic, dill, cucumbers, carrots, and red pepper flakes I've arranged in four jars, two each of carrots and cucumbers.
"Myriam and Naomi are schooling me on smart social media hygiene."
"Is that like sleep hygiene, where you're not supposed to bring your phone into your bedroom at night?" I ask, carefully wiping up my mess.
"A little, it's about setting up guidelines and parameters so you don't drive yourself crazy. They've been preparing me for people saying the meanest possible things on the Internet, especially those hiding their identities."
"What's their advice for handling that?" I ask; I've rarely encountered this with my social media clients because they're all in specialized fields. I do get a few mean comments about my art skills occasionally, but those are so silly I don't pay them any attention.
"Mostly, it's to ignore it but mute it when you have control. They also want me to consider hiring someone to be my eyes and ears on social media as my platform grows."
"That all sounds wise," I admit, "I glance at the comments Rune's receiving since we relaunched his Instagram. He completely ignores them."
"I think he should have someone gaging that, but it's better if that person isn't you. You need to focus on your art, finish your Howl's Moving Castle coloring page, and then put together your HorseGirls calendar."
"Yes, you're right," I agree. I need to keep putting my own oxygen mask on first.
"Shelby, are you game to try a new assignment I just thought up for my eBook? It's perfect for what you'll be doing next week."
"Um," I stall. A deep, low gong sound reverberates and a lotus blooms in my mind's eye. Okay, I'm listening, I think to Lord Ganesha; to Vivienne, I say, "Sure."
"When you go with Lorelei and Rune to meet with Julia Endo, I want you to be curious. I want you to check in a lot with how you feel."
"Just in general, or in any specific way?" I clarify.
"Both!" she exclaims, enthused, "I want you to pay attention to how you feel about his behavior. Notice how Rune treats you in particular and how he treats other people."
"I like how he treats Lorelei, and her friend Charlotte, and Butterscotch,” I admit.
"Good! Expand that to waiters, salespeople, and, of course, Julia. Second, while you're out with him, ask yourself how you'd feel if you were actually his girlfriend and not just his pretend one."
"That's not going to happen; I'm not celebrity dating material…"
"But that's not how you feel, Shelby. That's a fear-based judgment. Set that aside for now and just be curious.”