Styling Wellywood: A fashionable romantic comedy (Wellywood Series Book 2) (28 page)

It’s the day of the Hobbit Premiere and I’m standing outside a shop window on Cuba Street in Wellington’s funkiest shopping precinct with a couple of purchases in my hands. I smile to myself as I recall my disbelief at my insistence there were no decent fashion designers in Wellywood.

A
nd yet here I stand surveying some of their designs through the window of Rex Royale, a shop specialising in New Zealand and local Wellington fashion. I’m due to meet Morgan in a few minutes, but I really couldn’t resist buying a few items. I’m a successful personal stylist and I have a certain image to uphold, of course.

A few moments later, my bags sa
fely tucked under a table at a café, Morgan and I are discussing the successful styling session we’d had with one of Stephanie’s friends earlier in the day.

“Right. Y
ou’ll do the shopping trip with her tomorrow at two?” she asks me as she types into her iPhone.

“
Yep, done,” I reply, doing the same.

“
Great. Thanks, Jess. You’ve really become an awesome stylist, you know that, gorgeous?”

“
Thanks,” I say, beaming at the compliment.

Morgs
has been so much happier, more relaxed and
kind
since the whole Pabla affair came out. She’s back to her old self, before she was with Dave and Lindsay committed suicide. It feels great to have my old buddy back, the Morgs I know and love.

“
How would you like to run Estil on your own?” she says suddenly.

“
What?” I sputter in shock, inelegantly spurting my mocha out of my mouth.

That’s a bit
of a bolt from the blue. Last time I did that the business nearly collapsed, after all.

“
What are you talking about, Morgs?”

“
Well,” she begins, “as I said, you’re totes amaze at styling now, the clients love you, and you’re really getting to know the Welly fashion scene.”

Feeling a little suspicious I
narrow my eyes at her and reply, “Go on.”

“
You’re in, like, a totally different place now than the last time you did it on your own.”

She clears her throat in
obvious embarrassment as we both think about the way she’d left me high and dry when she’d disappeared with Pabla.

“
Sure, but why would you want me to run it on my own again?”

Her face
suddenly lights up. “Pabla and I’ve decided to go travelling!”

“
Are you kidding me?” I cannot believe she’s doing this again!

This woman is proving to be flakier than filo pastry.

“Hear me out, OK? It’s all good, I promise.”

“
Explain away,” I reply, sitting back and crossing my arms.

I’m feeling pretty dubious about this right now
, but at least she’s actually
talking
to me about it this time, not just simply taking off with no explanation.

“
Pabla’s visa runs out here soon and although I’m totally in love with her I’m not quite ready to marry her to keep her here.”

I’m relieved to hear she’s not rushing into anything, but simply nod at her, waiting to hear the rest of her explanation.

“Anyway,” she continues, “my point is she needs to leave so we thought it was a great idea to just, like, go. I never did the London thing. I’ve always lived here. I want to go to new places, try new things, you know?”

Completely u
nderstanding her desire to travel I begin to thaw, although I’m still mildly panicked at the idea of running Estil on my own again.

“
So when are you planning on doing this, exactly?” I ask.

“
We’re thinking pretty soon, actually. Before Christmas. Pabla wants to see her family. She’s been ‘out’ to them since she was fourteen so I’m no big surprise to them, which is so amazing. Jess, I’m so excited about it!”

Temporarily forgetting my concerns as I think about all the travel I’ve done and how wonderful it was
, I comment, “I can tell. Travelling is incredible. You’ll love it.”

“
I know.” She’s just glowing with happiness, from ear to ear.

“
But what’s the plan with Estil? Are you just handing it over to me? I mean, are you coming back? What?”

“
You know what, Jess? If you want it, it’s yours. You’ve worked really hard and I know it was tough but you managed to keep it afloat while I was… away.” She clears her throat. “There’s not actually enough work to keep us both going financially anyway.”

Having just been
through my bank account I have to agree with her. You can’t exactly lead a rock star existence on your average stylist’s income in this city, recent fashion purchases notwithstanding.

“
So you’re just going to
give
it to me?” I ask in disbelief.

“
Yeah, if you want it?”

I feel
a rush of panic, happiness and excitement all at the same time. I think about it for a long, hard moment. It won’t be like it was last time - I know what I’m doing now, I’ve built up our client base and not just relied on Morgan’s contacts, plus I think I’ve become a pretty good stylist, if I don’t say so myself.

“
What the hell. I’ll do it.” I laugh.

“
Yay!” She jumps up and hugs me, squeezing hard. “You’re totally going to rock it, Jess. I just know it.”

“
Thanks, Morgs. I kinda think I might too.” She punches my arm playfully.

“
Don’t get too big headed. You’ve got some serious work ahead of you. Remember I said I’d done some styling for the fashion pages in the Capital Woman mag? Well, they want Estil to style their spread in their next publication. All Welly designers, over seven pages!”

“
The magazine I see in virtually every café in town?
That
Capital Woman mag?” I ask, feeling stunned but elated.

“
The very same,” she laughs. “I’ve set up a meeting with them for next week, and told them I’m bringing my partner, a certain Ms. Jessica Banks, who’s totally fabulous. Are you up for it?”

“
Are the All Blacks hot? Hell, yes. Thanks, Morgs!”

“
Just part of the service. And don’t worry, I solemnly promise not to leave you in the lurch. I’ll walk you through it all so you can do it on your own next time.” She smiles broadly at me.

Wow, styling for a magazine. Sure, it’s not
a national publication, but it’s available throughout the city and stacks of people read it. This is just the sort of thing I was hoping I’d get to do one day, and it seems it might happen within the next week! And with Morgan helping I know we’ll do a great job.

Running
Estil on my own is certainly pretty daunting, but I have a feeling it’s going to work out just beautifully.

***

I arrive at the bar later that afternoon and spot Ben, Jia, Cameron and Shane in a group with a couple of other women leaning against a high table, laughing animatedly at something Cameron is saying.

Great, it’s couples night at the saloon
and I’m the only sad singleton.

Still, I’m rocking the pretty stunning new ensemble by
philippa&alice I bought this afternoon, so I’m feeling less like the strapping farm girl I did around Jia when I first met her and more like a sexy, voluptuous screen siren, one who now has her very own styling business to boot.

Ben notices me as I approach the group and greets me
enthusiastically with a hug, clearly genuinely happy to see me. I notice Jia looking irritated at this, so step back from him, trying to control the nerves that seem to have permanently colonised my innards whenever I’m near him.

“
It’s been too long, Jessie. How arethings?” Ben asks.

“
Good. Great,” I smile at him, enjoying his attention being focused on me but seemingly losing the power to string more than one word sentences together.

“
Cool.” He smirks at me and my heart begins to race.

He turns to the group, breaking the spell.
“Hey, everyone. You remember Jess Banks?”

Lots of warm greetings from Cameron
and Shane, introductions to their girlfriends and a clearly forced hug from Jia later and I offer to buy everyone a round of drinks. The place is packed with people hoping to get a glimpse of the stars about to walk the red carpet so it takes ages just to get to the bar, let alone get the attention of the barman to order the round.

Finally, having used all the
feminine wiles I possess on the barman - cleavage, hair flicking, my best attempt at a smouldering look, none of which seem to speed the process up - I grab the bottles of beer and turn to navigate my way through the throngs when I notice Ben squeezing his way through to me.

Predictably my heart gives a
nother little flutter at the sight of him. I’ve really got to stop doing this - I’m heading for an early grave if every time I see him my heart begins to race like a doped up horse, frantic to win the Melbourne Cup.

And
, just on cue of course, the Olympic gymnasts in my stomach decide it’s time to put on a show as well.

“
I thought you could do with a hand,” he shouts, taking some beers from me.

His fingers inadvertently graze my hand and I feel a spontaneous shock of electricity race up my arm.

“Thanks, Ben. That’d be awesome.”

We manage to make it back to the table without spilling a single drop, quite a feat in the sardine-packed bar tonight.
Jia’s around the other side of the bar, so after chatting about inconsequential things for a while I decide now’s the time to pluck up the courage to ask Ben if I can crash at his place while I find myself a flat.

Thankfully I appear to have my nerves under control enough in order to string a coherent sentence together, although I’m not game enough to attempt any multisyllabic words, just in case.

“Can I ask a favour?” I ask.

T
he bar’s so raucous, filled with music and excited Hobbit fans, including those who’ve seen fit to dress as their favourite Tolkien characters. I almost have to shout to be heard.

“
Depends how big,” he yells back.

“
Huge! No, not really. Mum’s new man is moving in and they’ve asked me if I could move out, but I haven’t found a place to live yet.”

I guess to find a place to live one needs to actually
look
for a place to live, which hasn’t exactly been something I’ve been focussing on, what with Morgan’s announcement and my seemingly huge capacity to fantasize about how I’m going to tell Ben how I feel and how he’ll instantly confess to loving me back.

It’s really quite staggering how much time that can take up.

“Of course you can,” he replies, like it’s the most natural thing in the world for a mate to crash at another mate’s place. Which of course it is.

“
I just need to clean my spare room up a bit. I’ve been working on my bike, so it’s full of bike crap. I’ll get it sorted tomorrow. When are you thinking of crashing?”

He looks really happy at the though
t of me coming to stay, but he seems generally very happy tonight, so I try not to read too much into it.

“
Next weekend?” I squeak. The thought of having Ben all to myself after work each day makes me feel all melt-y inside.

“
What are you two talking about?” comes a voice from behind me.

My happy, warm fuzziness is
disturbed by Jia turning up, just at the wrong moment, and draping herself all over Ben. She couldn’t be less subtle in marking her territory, save for spreading her scent by peeing a circle around him. Which, under the circumstances, I really wouldn’t put past her.

“
Jess is going to crash at my place for a while. Just ’til she gets her own place,” Ben says to her casually as I watch her from under my lashes.

As they say, if looks could kill I’d be
well and truly tucked up in a grave in Karori Cemetery right now. She narrows her pretty eyes at me and I notice the whites of her knuckles as she tightens her grip on Ben’s arm. He notices too and glances down at her apologetically, the thought clearly just dawning on him that perhaps his girlfriend wouldn’t really appreciate another woman moving into his apartment, even if it is just into the spare room.

Men can be pretty
slow on the uptake sometimes.

I can al
most see the cogs whirring at breakneck speed in her high-powered brain as she processes this new information, and then one of those cartoon light bulbs pings above her head as she comes up with an idea she’s clearly excited about.

“
Look, a friend of mine needs to sublet his place because he’s gone to Singapore for a six-month contract,” she shouts in my ear. “It’s a one-bedroom place in the city, probably in your price range, but it’s really nice.”