But they’re probably more in your price range,” she smirked. I clenched my jaw but forced a smile. “Actually, I’d like to try this one on,” I said, pointing to a lace gown on the mannequin in front of me.
The blonde’s eyes widened, her smirk turning into a soft laugh. “Oh, are you sure?” she asked. “That dress is over $10,000.
It might be a little out of budget for someone like you.”
The condescension in her voice hit me like a gust of wind. But I refused to let them see it. I smiled through it.
They thought they had me all figured out. To them, I was an older Hispanic woman who wasn’t dripping in diamonds. They probably thought I was a maid, given that stereotypical comment about my hands.
I was just another “out of place” customer. Little did they know, they were in for a surprise. As if on cue, the manager, John, appeared from the back.
He was dressed smartly in a black suit and had a smile. His eyes darted between me and the two saleswomen, and I could tell he knew something was off. “What’s going on here?
Girls?” he asked, his voice carrying a strong authority. Before I could say anything, the blonde sneered. “Oh, nothing, just trying to make sure our merchandise stays safe.
This lady was eyeing the more expensive gowns. And you always told us to watch how we all handle the gowns.”
She thought she was being clever. John, on the other hand, was livid.
He turned to her, his face growing darker by the second. “This lady?” he asked, his voice tense. “You mean Ms.
Morales? Soon-to-be Mrs. Shepherd?
The new owner of this salon?”
Shock took over their faces. “Wait, what?” the blonde stammered. “The owner?
I thought the owner was an old Mr. Thomas?”
“Mr. Shepherd, Ashley!” John barked.
“He’s Ms. Morales’ fiancé. She has taken over the store.
You’d know this if you paid attention to anything but yourselves!”
You could have heard a pin drop. The saleswomen were frozen in their spots. They had no idea who they had been speaking to, but now the realization of who I was had them thinking about their jobs dangling by a thread.
“I have the mind to fire you both on the spot!” John shouted. “So what if Ms. Morales wasn’t the owner, do you two treat customers like this?”
I turned to John and shook my head.
“John, don’t fire them,” I said. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Ma’am, are you sure?” he asked. I nodded, turning back to the saleswomen.
Their arrogance was long gone, replaced by something far more satisfying. Fear. “Instead of firing her,” I said, pointing to the blonde one.
“I want her to be my personal assistant for the next month. Thomas and I have a lot to do before the wedding.”
Her jaw dropped. “P-Personal assistant?” she stammered, her eyes wide.
“That’s right, Ashley,” I said. “You’re going to learn what this business is really about. You will serve customers, regardless of how they look, what they wear, or where they come from.
You’re going to understand that this job isn’t just about pushing expensive dresses on people. It’s about making every bride beautiful. We’re not just selling dresses.
We’re helping women’s dreams come true.”
The room was dead silent, the weight of my words sinking in. John just nodded, not daring to challenge my decision. “And what about me?” the brunette asked.
“I’m Matilda, by the way.”
“Matilda, you will do exactly the same thing, but you won’t focus on being my personal assistant. No. You will study wedding dresses.
You will learn every material we carry in this store. You will learn every style of dress. And every type of bridal veil.”
I paused for a moment, looking between each of them.
“Do I make myself clear?” I asked. They both nodded vigorously. “So… what now?” Ashley asked nervously.
“Now, you get me some champagne and ask me what kind of dress I want, Ashley,” I said boldly. The poor girl went running through the curtained area, getting me a glass of champagne, while Matilda ran off to the lace section, pulling the same gown from the mannequin off the rail. “What do you think, Matilda?” I asked.
“Think it will suit me?”
Matilda looked at me earnestly, as if trying to figure out how she should react. “I think you’ll look beautiful in anything, ma’am,” she said quietly. “But I think a sweetheart neckline will suit you better, it will enhance your shoulders.”
“Much, much better, Matilda,” I said, smiling sincerely at her.
I knew there was a lot to come, and I’d have my hands full with these two girls. But they both deserved to learn how to do well in this industry. As for me?
I had a wedding dress to find. What would you have done? If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
When Evie’s best friend’s wedding rolls around, she wants nothing more than to be a part of Jade’s big day.
But as the wedding dawns, rumors about Evie’s husband, James, begin to fly around — including the fact that he’s been uninvited. What secrets lurk between the rumors? And more importantly, are they true?
Jade and I had been friends for years. As kids, our families lived across the road from each other — so we had grown up together. From diapers to high school, we were inseparable.
And when college came around, we did the long-distance thing. “We’re going to be friends until we’re old and gray and knitting scarves for our grandchildren,” Jade would always say. And I believed her, especially because she made a concerted effort to keep up with our friendship.
Even when I got married four years ago — Jade shared the Maid of Honor spot with my sister and was part and parcel of the entire experience. Now, Jade’s wedding is a few days away, and I’m a bridesmaid. Because we had been such close friends for so many years, she had invited my family to share in the joy of her big day.
