One Down, One to Go

"Well, this particular time wasn't exactly my idea," he said as the door dinged again and a very attractive, extremely well-dressed young woman came in.

"Where'd you go, baby?" she said as she sidled up to Serge and took his arm. "I turned around and you were gone."

"Yeah. Um, sorry, babe," he said without the smile Brooklyn thought was glued to his face.

"Um, honey? This is the boutique owner, Brooklyn Maxwell. Brooklyn, my fiancé, Chloe Stevens."

"Yeah, I guess she is kind of young-er — looking," Chloe said as she raised her chic sunglasses to give Brooklyn the once over.

Now feeling both foolish and embarrassed, Brooklyn cleared her throat then said, "So. May I show you anything?"

"No. We'll be just fine," Chloe said already looking around. "I'm sure the perfect dress is out there somewhere. It's hard to imagine it's in a quaint little shop like this, but who knows, right, baby?"

She grabbed Serge who shrugged his shoulders and made an apology-face as Chloe drug him along with her.

They wandered around for a few minutes when Chloe suddenly got very animated.

"Oh...my....God!" she said. "Honey! Look. Right over there!"

She led him to a rack at the back of the store and said, "This is it! I can't believe it. This is the perfect dress!"

Serge looked at it, and to him it looked pretty much like every other dress in the sea of white surrounding them except for the big red tag attached to it that said 'SOLD' in gold letters.

He turned it toward her and showed her the tag.

Chloe promptly said, "No problem," as she removed the tag and dropped it into her purse.

"You are not going to do that—right?" he said.

"I most certainly am. After all, all's fair in love and war, right?"

She waved to Brooklyn and called out, "We found one!"

"Okay, I'll be right there," she called back.

Chloe was holding it front of her and turning sideways.

"I've looked everywhere and here it is. Of all places, right?" she said without even looking at the owner. "The perfect dress!"

"I'm very sorry, but that dress is sold," Brooklyn told her after walking over to her.

"No it's not. See?" Chloe said flipping it over. "There's no tag!"

"I don't know how that happened, but there was a 'sold' tag on it. I put it there myself. That's the dress my daughter chose for her wedding. It's a one of a kind and I'd know it anywhere. Again, I'm very sorry, but that dress isn't available."

"Serge? Do something!" she said pouting furiously.

"It's sold, honey" he repeated feeling like an accomplice to a bank heist.

"No! It can't be. I want this one. It's...perfect! Serge? Fix this!"

Brooklyn watched his reaction, and for the life of her she couldn't understand how this calm, funny, easy-going man had ended up with the likes of...her. Well, except in terms of looks as they were both clearly very beautiful people.

Once Brooklyn finally got her to hand the dress over, Chloe stormed out leaving a 'red-faced' Serge to clean up the mess.

"I don't know what to say, Brooklyn. She can be rather...strong-willed," he told her sheepishly.

"It's none of my business, but she seems very different from you," Brooklyn said choosing her words carefully.

"You know what they say, right? Opposites attract," he said without conviction.

There was no feeling in his words. He was obviously repeating something he'd likely said many times before but didn't actually believe.

"Listen, I'll come by again real soon, but I promise to call first next time, okay? You know, so we can discuss the photos for The Times?" he said hoping to get off the subject of his fiancé.

"Oh, right. I guess I kind of forgot about that," she lied having thought about him—and it—many times since they met.

He had his head down then looked up and said, "Her dad is the managing editor of The Times so that's my contact."

"Ah-hah. Now I understand," Brooklyn said not knowing what else to say.

"Well, anyway, it was nice seeing you again, Brooklyn, and...I'm sorry?" he said with another shrug of his shoulders.

"Don't worry about it," she said still floored that a guy like him had paired up with a woman like her let alone not the single man she'd assumed him to be.

She hated the saying but blurted out, "It's all good!" and tried to smile as though it was.

Serge gave her a feeble wave and headed out, looking worn out and beat down.

That afternoon Kristi stopped by the shop to take another long, adoring look at her dress, and to ask her mom if she'd seen her hot, young photographer yet.

"As a matter of fact, I have," her mom told her.

"And?" Kristi asked wanting details.

"And...I also met his fiancé," she told her flatly.

"He's engaged?"

"He is. She was wearing the ring to prove it and he was wearing her...."

Brooklyn stopped short of saying 'her ring in his nose.' She didn't mostly because she felt there had to be some other, underlying, unspoken reason for this very nice guy to be with this...not-so-nice woman.

"Wow. I had no idea. Um...sorry?" Kristi said with a kind of shoulder shrug sounding a lot like Serge.

"It's no big deal," her mom said telling another white lie. "It's not like I was looking or anything."

"You said you'd be willing to go out with him," her daughter reminded her.

"I don't believe I uttered those exact words, honey," Brooklyn said a little defensively.

"Uh-huh. Okay. Sure."

"Oh, by the way, his fiancé was very interested in your dress."

"What? My dress is sold. It is marked 'sold', right, Mom?" she said nearly running to the back of the store to check.

"The uh, the tag may have fallen off. I swear I pinned it to the dress, but it was gone, and she wanted to buy it in the worst way."

Once Kristi saw it was still there she breathed a sigh of relief as she hugged it on the rack.

"Mom. You've got to be more careful! If that dress disappeared, I'd die!"

"I don't know what else to say, honey. I'd bet my life on having tagged it as sold, but the red card wasn't on it. I'd have never let her have it regardless. You know that, right?"

"Yes. I do. I'm sorry, Mom. Weddings can make a girl go crazy."

"Yes, they can," her mom agreed.

Having accomplished her mission, Kristi gave her mother a big hug then wished her a good day and left the store.

It was nearly a week later, but Serge finally did call her, and they did get together at the store.

Serge took a ton of pictures, most of them of Brooklyn, who finally said, "I thought the dresses and the boutique were the focal point."

"They are," he said, his happy-go-lucky smile back in full force. "I just find you a lot more interesting."

Brooklyn gave him a raised-eyebrow look and Serge said, "What can I say? I'm honest to a fault."

He took a few more of the shop then let her know they'd be in The Times within the next ten days or so.

A week later, Kristi called one morning as excited as Brooklyn could ever remember.

"Mom! Do you have today's edition of The Times yet?"

"No. It's only...what? Seven-thirty in the morning?"

"Go buy one. Right now! The pictures are gorgeous! Oh, and the one of you is amazing!" she said bubbling like she was back in junior high school.

Brooklyn hadn't opened the shop yet, but she'd been there since 7am. She stepped outside and walked to the little kiosk on the corner and gave the man $2 and he gave her a paper.

She flipped through the pages as she walked discarding whole sections tossing them into a trash can until she found what she was looking for.

"Oh, my gosh! They are beautiful!" she said out loud.

And she had to admit the photo of her was very flattering. She was her own worst critic, but that was a very nice pic indeed.

She looked through a stack of cards in her desk drawer and found Serge's number and made a mental note to call him at a more reasonable hour and thank him for the beautiful photography.

By noon, two women had ordered dresses and let her know, "Serge sent me."

After the second one left, she gave him a call.

"Brooklyn! How are you?" he asked in his happy, cheerful voice.

"Serge? I LOVE the photos! And I've already sold two dresses from the ad! Thank you so, so much!" she told him sincerely.

"You're welcome. It was my pleasure," he told her.

"At this rate, I'll have to bring you a check by close of business today!" she said knowing she'd never sell ten dresses in one day all from that one ad, but it could very easily happen within a week.

"Tell you what. Whenever you sell the tenth dress, let me know and I'll take you out to dinner!" he said.

Brooklyn stopped smiling and said, "I um...I don't think that would be a good idea. Not that I don't enjoy your company. It's just that...."

"Oh, right. Chloe. Yeah. I guess I kind of forgot for a moment. How sad is that? I'm engaged to her, and the first time you call me I can't even remember I proposed to her. Maybe it's wishful thinking," he said sullenly.

"I don't know whether to thank you or hang up on you," she said feeling even worse for him than before if he really did 'like' her.

"Sorry. That was rude of me to say. By the way, I'm still feeling guilty about the whole dress thing," he told her.

"Forget it. It's old news," she said.

There was a pause before Brooklyn said, "Well, I should let you go. I just wanted to thank you for the amazing spread."

"Did you like the photo of yourself?" he asked, not sure if he should.

"Um, yes. I loved it," she told him. "So did my daughter."

"I'm glad. You make a pretty great model, Brooklyn. Maybe that's because you're so...pretty."

"Model. Yeah, right. And the play on words with 'pretty' was pretty...lame," she said with a kind of 'huff' but loved hearing him say it.

"So anyway, call anytime whenever you hit number ten, and we'll work out a time and place to meet, okay?"

"I'll look forward to it, Serge. I think," she said with a kind of half-smile before hanging up.

She stood there for several moments trying to figure out what it was that was eating at her and couldn't quite put her finger on it. She ticked off several facts like: he's engaged, he's handsome and funny, she's gorgeous and a total b...handful...and then felt even more confused, so she let it go just as another customer came in.

The young woman was smiling happily as she said, "Hi! Serge sent me."

It took a full ten work days, but Brooklyn did sell ten dresses based on the ad and had at least thirty other customers who didn't buy who'd mentioned it. She tallied up the total and wrote out a check then stopped when she realized she didn't know how to correctly spell his last name. She checked the ad in The Times she'd put on the bulletin board by the cash register and found it. Harkhov.

"Serge? I have your money!" she said when he answered.

"Already? Nice!" he replied.

"Can you stop by and pick up the check sometime soon at your convenience?"

"You know what? I'm out with Chloe right now, and we can be there in a few if that's all right."

"Oh. Um...sure. Yeah, that'll be fine. See you then," she said trying to mask her disappointment that the spawn of Satan was coming, too.

Just as Serge and Chloe came in, a delivery truck arrived and the driver needed to know where to deliver the order.

"Hey, you two! Give me just a minute, okay, Serge?" she said as the engaged couple came into the boutique. have to show this nice man where to put the new dresses in back, and then I'll get you your check, okay?"

"No problem," he said. "Say, do you mind if I take a peek back there?"

"There's not much to see, but sure. Come on along and I'll give you the grand tour. It should take all of about five seconds."

"Chloe? You want to check it out?"

"Me? No thanks. I don't do dungeons," she said snidely loudly enough for Brooklyn to hear.

"Sorry. Again," Serge said quietly as they headed toward the very small 'warehouse' area.

"I still don't get it," Brooklyn said knowing she shouldn't.

"Oh, you mean Chloe, right? You know, it's pretty bad to have to agree with you. I don't get it, either," he admitted. "Most of the time she's not all that bad, though, you know?"

Brooklyn stopped, faced him and said, "Did you just hear yourself, Serge?"

He ran his hand through his thick hair then said, "Yeah, that wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement, was it?

"It's not my place to say. In fact, I've said too much already."

She turned the other way and spread her arms and said, "Well, this is it. All this is mine! Or...the bank's, actually."

Serge laughed as he saw a small room that was maybe 15-feet deep and the width of the building and mostly jammed with boxes of wedding dresses waiting to be moved out front.

"Right over there, Alex," she said pointing to one of the two least crowded areas in the room.

"Well, that wasn't too difficult," Brooklyn said. "How about we go get you your check?"

Brooklyn heard the door ding just as she came back into the shop and said, "I'll be right with you!" until she noticed it was Chloe.

"I forgot something in the car," she said. Her dark glasses hid her eyes, but her voice told Brooklyn something was going on.

"Okay. Um...here you go, Serge," she said as she handed him an envelope with the check inside.

"Wow. You did pretty well," he told her as he took a quick peek.

"My best week so far," she said with a smile. "Of course, there haven't been very many weeks, but still...."

"I hope it continues. Word of mouth is everything. Fyi, I talk up your boutique every chance I get," he said smiling back at her.

"No kidding," Chloe said with disgust. "He's always talking about this place. Or you."

Brooklyn still couldn't see her eyes, but knew she'd just given her a 'death look'. All Brooklyn could do was smile and thank them for stopping by and thank Serge again for making this happen.

"My pleasure," he told her. "Oh! Great news! Kristi just hired me for her wedding. Did she mention that yet?"

"No. It must have just happened because she pretty tells me everything."

"Not even an hour ago, right babe?" he asked Chloe.

"Whatever. I don't pay attention to the small stuff," she said dismissively.

Serge lowered his head, gave Brooklyn a quick glance, then said, "Well, we need to get going."

"Um, yeah! I'm like starving over here," she said. "And I know the perfect place for a late lunch!"

"Perfect," Serge muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Brooklyn asked.

He smiled then said, "Oh, nothing. Just looking forward to a perfect lunch."

A few hours later Brooklyn had a few spare minutes and decided to give her daughter a buzz when she came bopping in through the front door saving her the call.

Brooklyn put down the phone and told her, "I was literally punching in your number."

"Ha! I read your mind!" Kristi said. "So...guess who I just hired?"

"Yes, I know," her mom said with a smile.

"Wait. How do you know?" Kristi asked, a very confused look on her face.

"Serge was just here to pick up his contingency fee," her mom told her.

"Wow. That's just crazy. What are the odds?"

"Um...small?" her mom said with another smile. "So what brings my daughter in today?"

"I'm ready for my fitting. I have a couple of hours and thought I'd stop by."

"Well, you're in luck. Antonio is coming by in about fifteen minutes to pick up three dresses so you can make an appointment with him to fit yours while he's here."

"Let me just go grab my dream dress," Kristi said. "The one with the 'SOLD' tag on it, right, Mom?"

Her mom just shook her head and went back to what she'd been doing when Kristi called out, "MOM!?!?"

Brooklyn went to the sold rack and asked what was wrong.

"Where is it?" Kristi asked as she frantically flipped through dresses.

"It's right...."

Brooklyn stepped in and started looking and knew it was futile.

"Mom! Where is my dress???" Kristi asked, ready to come apart at the seams.

"Oh, my God," Brooklyn said quietly.

"What? Mom? What are you saying?"

Afraid to say out loud what she was thinking, Brooklyn stood there staring at the rack of sold dresses in stunned silence.

Unable to stop herself from crying, Kristi began to unravel.

"How...how could it just...disappear?" she asked, her voice shattered with deep, heavy sobs.

"I don't know, honey," she said even though she was pretty sure she knew.

"Shouldn't we...call the police or something?" Kristi managed to say.

Brooklyn couldn't even look into her daughter's eyes. She knew this look of agony all too well. She'd seen it the day she'd had to tell her 12-year old daughter her father had chosen a 21-year old college co-ed over them.

Without looking, she put her arms around her daughter and held her while she cried.

Ryan showed up an hour later. He'd just finished interviewing for a really fantastic job and was wearing a suit looking nicer than Brooklyn could ever remember.

"She's in the back, Ryan," Brooklyn told him when he walked up.

"How did this happen, Brooklyn?" he asked without being accusatory.

"I'm not totally sure," she told him avoiding telling him the whole truth until she could check.

"Being a guy, I don't understand the whole 'this is the only dress for me thing' but I do know when something is important to Kristi. Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?" he asked showing the kind of concern that made her love him like the son she never had.

"Just take her home, okay? I have something I need to check and until I do, I can't really suggest anything," she told him being intentionally vague.

"Sure. Just please call us as soon as you know anything, okay?" he asked.

Brooklyn promised she would and thanked him for coming so quickly.

"Oh, how did the interview go?" she asked.

"I wanted Kristi to be the first to know, but...."

He smiled then said, "I got the job!"

"You did? Oh, Ryan. That is so amazing! Congratulations!" she said offering him a hug.

"I may be traveling quite a bit, but the money is...insane," he told her. "So if we need to buy another dress...."

"Oh, honey, it's a one-of-a-kind so we can't just buy another one. But let me run this other thing to ground before we get too crazy, okay?"

"All right. Let me go grab your beautiful daughter and get her home," he said. "Thanks again for calling me."

Kristi was still 'boo-hooing' on the way out, and Brooklyn's heart was breaking for her. She refused to call the police...yet, but she did go into the back to review her security camera footage.

Just as she suspected it still wasn't working. She'd had a call in on it for three days and the company that installed kept promising they'd be there 'as soon as possible' but no one had shown up to troubleshoot it.

Money wasn't the issue. All of the dresses were insured. But this one was her daughter's and that was the issue. She had one more card to play before getting the police involved but didn't want to play it right then.

That evening, Serge was having dinner at the Stevens' residence, and just before dessert, Chloe's mother asked him how he liked her dress.

Confused, he looked over at the dark-blue dress she was wearing and said, "It looks great. That's definitely her color."

Chloe looked away and tried to hush her mother who said to Serge, "No, dear. I'm talking about her wedding dress. Isn't it just perfect?"

Serge looked at Mrs. Stevens then at Mr. Stevens who said, "Don't look at me. I have no idea what my wife is talking about."

By the time he glanced at Chloe she was protesting loudly.

"It is the perfect dress and you know how much I wanted it!" she cried.

"Don't tell me you...." Serge said, a look of disgust on his face as Chloe cut him off.

"Don't you dare get all self-righteous with me!" she told him. "It's not like I didn't give you a chance to make that old bag sell it to me. I'd have even paid her more than she was asking for it. But did you even try? Oh, no! You just stood there. And even worse, you took her side!"