Styling Wellywood: A fashionable romantic comedy (Wellywood Series Book 2) by Kate O'Keeffe Read Free Book Online Page B

week.
    She’s sitting on the ottoman, looking at her clothes on the floor in stunned silence. Realising I need to do some serious recovery work here I follow her gaze and notice a soft floral chiffon top with floating cuffs Morgan had hastily rejected, poking out of the pile. On impulse I pull it out and hold it up in front of me to examine it.
    “ I wore that to my son's christening,” she says weakly, smiling at the memory. “He was only a tiny baby, dressed in one of those traditional christening dresses that made him look like he was a girl, which he could have been of course - he was such a pretty baby. You know I accidentally dipped one of those long sleeves in the holy water as the vicar was wetting his head. Oh but I felt so pretty and feminine in it.”
    I have a flash of what I can only describe as stylist’s vision and, despite my lack of experience, I decide to go with it. I suggest she team the shirt with one of the two pairs of trousers Morgan didn’t discard in her mania. I add a small beaded necklace and a pair of heels and turn her around to face the mirror.
    “ See how the shirt is cut quite low so it breaks up your chest area and the light, feminine material makes you look so young and delicate? And because it's slim fitting but not tight it's really sexy, hinting at your fabulous curves beneath.”
    Stephanie regards herself for a moment in the mirror , turning this way and that, as I hold my breath, hoping against all hope she likes what she sees.
    After a moment s he breaks into a broad smile and responds excitedly, “Yes, I can see that! For the christening I wore this tucked into my black Jaegar skirt suit,” she glances subconsciously at the pile. “But it goes just so beautifully with these brown trousers and hides up my legs, which I’ve always hated. I would never have thought to put these two together. I just love it!”
    She’s right, she does have legs a less than kind person may be tempted to describe as tree stump-esque. The trousers hide them up just perfectly.
    Egged on by this success we try a number of other outfits, mainly from the hangers, with the odd piece pulled out of the pile by either Stephanie or me. Some are more successful than others and I wonder what Morgan will say when I tell her about this. I decide to worry about it later as I feel so good helping Stephanie and she's clearly enjoying the styling session now. It might have started as damage control, but now I’m in the swing of things and we’re having a great time.
    We wrap up the session some time later by deciding to meet in the city in a couple of days to go shopping. I assure her both Morgan and I will be there as I prepare to leave, patting the now calm and happy Cici at the door.
    “ Thank you so much, Jessica. You know I never knew what colours or styles suited me and just bought things I'd seen in magazines or in shop windows. And those sales assistants work on commission so they’d say you look good in a straightjacket.” She’s touching my arm as she says this and then leans in and gives me a hug, saying, “Thank you,” once again.
    Feeling satisfied with my work and how obviously good I've made her feel, I hug her back and then say my goodbyes. As I reach the end of the path and turn to wave at her from the gate, I smile quietly to myself.
    With clients like this I might just begin to enjoy my NGWL, which will certainly make living in this city a whole lot more bearable.

5. The Ghost of High School Past
     
     
    As I close Stephanie’s gate I notice the wind has really picked up and there's a distinct chill in the air that wasn't there when we arrived. Realising that with Morgan's hasty departure so too went my cardigan and transport, I shiver in my sleeveless dress.
    “ Bugger it,” I think, as I walk down the road in search of a bus stop, silently bemoaning the fact Wellington's too small to have a subway system that could warm me up and get me out of this wind.
    T here’s a sudden gust