Styling Wellywood: A fashionable romantic comedy (Wellywood Series Book 2) (22 page)

With Estil only just starting to recover from some serious speed wobbles and still no further contact from Morgan, I’m pleased I’ve actually managed to get the correct clothes to both Stephanie and Lex.

I
decide to come clean with Stephanie about why she’d ended up in the dress she’d worn on the night.

“
God, don’t worry about it, Jessica! I had such a wonderful time in that dress, I can tell you. I felt so vital, so alive. Who cares if it didn’t follow your stylist rules precisely?”

Or not at all, as the case may be
.

“
Jeremy said he adored me in it and I can tell you, after we got home he showed me just how
much
he adored me in it. Or out of it, if you know what I mean.” She winks at me, flashing a cheeky grin, clearly relishing the memory.

I think
a blind, deaf man with poor social skills would know what she meant, but I decide against saying it on the pretext she’s still my client and it’s a good idea to make clients feel like they’re the most interesting and attractive people you’ve ever met.

Trying to push the image of the two of them having monkey sex
out of my mind I reply, “Well, if you’re happy to buy the dress you wore I’ll get another one for my other client. But you must let me give you a voucher for a glass of bubbles as an apology for the mix up.”

“
Let’s do that with the dress. I think it’ll come in handy again.” More winking and grinning - subtlety thy name is most certainly not Stephanie.

“
Oh but you don’t have to buy me a drink. Mix up or no mix up I had a quite wonderful time at the dinner. Why don’t you and I meet up for a glass or two anyway? Just us girls. It’ll be fun.”

Having re-lost Morgan, not wanting to see Ben for fear of him looking too loved-up with
Jia, and having little interest in seeing Laura following the stripping down I received from her last time we met, going out with Stephanie for a drink sounds like fun. It’s certainly the best offer I’m likely to receive this week.

Or next week, come to think of it.

***

S
tephanie insists on meeting at Foxtail as she says she loves the place. So, attempting to banish memories of my wonderful drink there with Ben, we arrange to meet the following evening.

I walk up the stairs to the bar, avoiding
the Narnia door, dressed in the black halter neck top and jeans combo I’d worn the night I started my outlandishly ill-conceived affair with Scott.

I
spot Stephanie, already with drink in hand, leaning against the bar looking very settled. She’s wearing one of the outfits we’d purchased in Andrea Moore on our shopping trip and looks a million bucks.

“
Hi Stephanie. You look awesome.” I give her a quick hug and she hugs me back warmly.

“
Jessica, you look pretty good yourself, but then I’d expect my stylist to look good now, wouldn’t I?” She turns to the barman. “Doesn’t she look divine? Jessica, meet Jason. Isn’t he delicious?”

I smile and nod at the barman who returns the favour, having the decency to look a little embarrassed.

“What can I get you?” he asks as he produces the drinks menu.

“
No need for that, is there, Jessica?” She grabs the menu and folds it over, placing it back in Jason’s hands. “We’re here for champagne, aren’t we? Nothing else will do.”

“
Absolutely.”

I smile at Jason who places a flute on the bar in front of me and pours a glass of
Moët with typical barman flourish.

I go to get my purse out of my handbag
but Stephanie places her hand on my arm.

“
My treat. I have cause to celebrate tonight and I owe it in no small part to you.” Her eyes are twinkling and she really looks very happy indeed.

“
Well, then I accept. Thanks.” I smile good-naturedly at her. She really is a sweetie.

“
Cheers!” We clink glasses and take a sip.

What is it with champagne? No matter how low
or rubbish I’m feeling it gives me an instant, miraculous pick-me-up, even before the alcohol has got anywhere near my bloodstream. Maybe there’s some secret Prozac-type gas they put in the bubbles? Well, whatever it is, I’m more than happy to allow it to work its antidepressant magic on me tonight.

Steph
anie picks up the bottle, asks Jason for an ice bucket, and we find a table to sit down at.

“
So put me out of my suspense, Stephanie. What are we celebrating?”

“
Well, you met him.” She smiles blissfully and her eyes twinkle.

“
Jeremy?” I ask.

Stephanie nods at me, clearly excited to hear his name.

“He seems very nice, and pretty smitten with you. Have you known him long?”

“
Oh, only about sixteen years,” she replies.

“
Really? You looked like you were in the first flush of love to me.”

“Ha ha!” She laughs out loud, tossing her head back, clearly enjoying this. “Hardly. Jeremy is my husband.”

“
Your
husband
? Oh my god. But, Stephanie, what happened to the woman he ran off with?”

“
Gone.” She gives me a thoroughly ecstatic smile as she lifts her glass to her lips and I can’t help feeling like she deserves this happiness, as dubious as I am about this husband of hers suddenly returning, professing undying love for her.

“
Tell me everything,” I say.

So
as we plough too easily through the bottle of Moët she tells me all about how Jeremy had turned up on her doorstep the afternoon of the Wearable Arts, apologising profusely for the diabolical way he’d treated her over what he referred to as his ‘silly little mid-life crisis affair’, vowing eternal love and devotion to her, his wife.

I’d turned up with the (wrong) dress while he was in the middle of his monologue, which explains why she was so flustered and wouldn’t let me in to help her pull her outfit together
for the dinner. Clearly she’d forgiven him, judging by her behaviour at the Wearable Arts later that night.

“
He’d seen me at Ginny Salomon’s cocktail party the previous week and said it made him realise what a fool he’d been in leaving me. And this is where you come in. I was wearing one of the gorgeous outfits we bought the day we went shopping, and I’d had my hair done the way you’d suggested. So you see, perhaps without you he wouldn’t have noticed me that night and realised what he’d thrown away for some silly little bit of fluff.”

I laugh
, genuinely happy for her. “I’m glad I was able to play my small part.”

Super stylist to the rescue! I had no idea when I embarked on this adventure I’d be mending marriages.
Never underestimate the power of a good frock, that’s what I say.

“
But what about the other woman?” I ask.

Having unwittingly been one of those myself recently
- a fact I choose strategically not to share with Stephanie - I wonder how she’s fared in all this carry on.

“
Her? Turns out she made him feel
old
. I mean, Jessica, she was only twenty-six. Twenty-six, can you believe? No wonder she found a forty-three year old man over the hill. Anyway, she’s apparently already moved on to someone else, someone more… how do they say, ‘age appropriate’? So good luck to her, I say.”

She drains her glass and pours the remnants of the bottle equally between our flutes.

“Well, you’re very forgiving, Stephanie. I’m not sure I’d be as understanding as you.” I purposely push thoughts of Brooke from my mind.

“
We all make mistakes. His just happened to be with a bleached blonde bimbo young enough to be his daughter.” She laughs, rolling her eyes.

“
Seriously, though, I think he found the idea of getting older just too hard. He thought being with a young woman would make him feel young again, but instead it made him feel like a geriatric. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not Mother Theresa. I hope she drowns in her own peroxide one day.”

As
we continue talking and having an unexpectedly fun time, I’m surprised to see Laura and Kyle walking into the bar, dressed up for an evening out. I haven’t seen Laura since our extremely uncomfortable conversation we’d had at Pravda, but we
have
already made up on text so there should be nothing stopping me from spending some drama-free time with her now. They notice me so I wave at them and they walk over to our table.

“
It’s great to see you, Jess.” Kyle seems genuinely happy to see me. “It’s been ages. Why haven’t you been over? Too busy running your dresses thing, I bet.”

“
I’m sure she has been. She’s fantastic at what she does.” Stephanie chips in. “I’m a client. All you see before you is down to the wonderful Jessica.”

She does look good in her Andrea Moore, so I
dart her a grateful smile, feeling quietly proud as she unabashedly promotes me to my friends.

“
Hey, any word from Morgs?” Laura turns to me and asks quietly. “I’ve been really worried about her.”

“
Yeah, we had a chat the other night. She’s back.” What more can I say? It’s pretty much all I know right now, thanks to her latest vanishing trick.

“
Well, that’s a relief. She hasn’t returned my texts either. I wonder what’s been going on? Oh look, here’s Ben.”

I turn in the direction Laura’s looking
to see Ben walking through the Narnia door into the bar. My heart skips a beat at the sight of him. He’s wearing a crisp, white polo shirt over blue jeans and a pair of suspiciously London-style lace up boots. He sees us and immediately breaks into a broad smile, walking over in our direction.

“
Gidday, mate.” Kyle and Ben shake hands enthusiastically in greeting, as men do, and then he greets both Laura and me with a kiss on the cheek.

It feels so good to see him I can’t wipe the smirk off my face and
I totally forget to introduce Stephanie.

Unfazed
, she gets up out of her seat and says, “Hi, I’m Stephanie. Friend of Jessica. And you are?”

“
Same. Friend of Jessica’s that is, not Stephanie.” Cheeky grin in my direction, as Stephanie laughs.

“
I’m Ben. Nice to meet you.” They shake hands.

Why does he have to look so delectable
tonight?

And why do I care?

He then turns to me, and asks, “How are you doing, Jessie? We haven’t caught up in a while. How are things?”

“
All good. Just busy I guess.” I shrug.

“
Hey well, if you find the time, let’s do another Wellington day soon. I had such an awesome time. You know, despite the original reason for it, that is.”

Ignoring the reference to my humiliating experience with Scott
, I reply, “That would be so brilliant. I’d love you.”

He looks at me quizzically.

Realising with a shock what I’ve just said I correct myself quickly. “I mean, I’d love
to
. That’s what I mean. Go on another Wellington date.
Day
. A lovely Wellington day.”

Aaarrrggghhhh
!

Why am I suddenly so tongue-tied around him?

“How are you doing, there?” He laughs. “Few too many of those, maybe.” He points to the empty glass of bubbles in my hand, raising his eyebrows good-humouredly.

“
Yes! That’s it. Off my head.” I make my eyes go cross-eyed as I sway from side to side, hamming it up in an effort to hide my embarrassment.

Did I really just tell him I love him?

Not cool, Jess. Not cool at
all
.

“
Hey, babe.”

I abruptly stop my fake drunk behaviour to see
Jia, wrapping her arms around Ben and kissing him full on the lips. Once again she looks completely stunning, this time in a mini shift dress and the highest pair of stilettos I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen some pretty impressive stilettos in my time, I can tell you.

Up close she’s even more luminous than she was in the distance at the Wearable Arts
, and with those sky-high shoes on she’s only an inch or two shorter than me tonight. She looks intimidatingly beautiful.

“
Sorry about that,” she continues, talking to Ben. “What is it with clients thinking they can call you after eight at night? Still, billable hours.” She smiles at Ben, making the international sign for money by rubbing her fingers together.

Arm still around her waist,
Ben turns to me. “Jess, this is Jia.”

“
Hi Jia. Nice to meet you.” I smile my fakest smile and put my hand out, which she shakes, while looking me up and down. I suddenly feel like a large, strapping farm girl next to her waif-like petite-ness.