Amy sat on the subway with the plastic-covered dress folded neatly in half upon her lap. At the time Tracy's suggestion that she rent a designer gown seemed like a great alternative to buying something, but now the blood spatters across the front of the Gucci dress made the frugal choice look disastrous. She hoped the store owner would allow her to pay it off in installments, although she had no idea how much to expect. Not that she had any right to worry -- whatever she owed would be trivial compared to the lawsuit John faced. He didn't seem overly concerned about it, but what had happened Saturday night made Amy feel like crap.
She exited the subway and made her way up to the street. A cold blast of air hit her in the face, but she welcomed the discomfort. The freezing wind felt like penance. If only she'd reacted better, Keith's nose would still be intact and so would John's reputation.
Brisk, determined steps led her to the high-end storefront and she stepped inside, only to find the saleswoman busy with another customer. She forced herself to wait patiently by the counter: more penance.
"I'll be with you in a minute. Or you can just leave it there, if you're in a hurry," the lady said without looking up.
"I'll wait. I need to talk to you about the dress."
At that the woman looked up, her eyebrows rising in disapproval and disdain. She said "Excuse me a moment," to the customer, who continued browsing through the rack. She approached the counter, asking, "What seems to be the problem?"
"I got something on it." Amy's voice was barely a whisper.
"What?"
"Blood."
The woman peered over her glasses at Amy again and sighed loudly, "Well, sometimes it comes out, but -- Good lord! What happened?"
Amy shifted her weight and looked down at the dress, "Well, um... there was a fight. Oh, not me, but I was standing --"
"Where the hell did you wear this dress?"
"The Polished Nickel. It's new -- a new club."
The angry expression faded away, replaced with curiosity, "You were there when John Heywood hit that guy? I saw it in the paper."
"Yes. Yes, I was there, but it wasn't John's fault."
"You
know
John Heywood?" The woman's demeanor changed completely and in a flash.
"Well, yes, John took me to the grand opening. That's why I needed the dress, and --"
"What? Why didn't you say so?" The woman removed the dress from the counter. "Darling, don't worry about this dress, I've got something to clean it with and if that doesn't work, I can always dye it black. Just be sure and tell John where you got the dress, okay? My name is Lydia, and next time you attend an event, please, please do come see me again. Promise?"
Amy blinked in confusion. "Really? I mean I appreciate that, but... are you sure the dress is okay?"
"Oh darling, don't you worry about that. Just promise me you'll come back next time you need something. Did you know I lend out jewelry too? Just call me, or even email. Here, take my card. Let me know what you're looking for, and if I don't have it, I can get it. Furs, shoes, purses -- it just doesn't make sense to buy things you'll only be seen in once, even if you've got the money, right? It's what everyone's doing these days. I can't mention the names of my clients, but you'd be surprised. Anytime you need something special, please, allow me to assist you."
"Um... okay, Lydia. Well thanks. Hey, I'm really sorry about the dress."
"Oh, don't you worry about that, darling. Amy is it? Yes, I have updated your file. I have your sizes and will start to update your preferences." she said, then looked away from the computer screen. "Amy. It was my pleasure helping you."
Amy gave a slight wave as she opened the door and stepped out into the cold, thinking,
Borrow a
fur coat? A down jacket and some hiking boots would be really nice right about now.
* * * * *
John arrived looking distraught, but still took a moment to mock William for reading in a bar, "Hey, nerd. Thanks for taking a break from the books to meet up with me."
"Oh, I didn't break." William held up his book. "Besides, you're usually the busy one. I figured something must be up."
"That's an understatement," John sat down heavily. "I think I fucked things up with Amy."
"What happened?" William slumped and looked resigned, as if readying himself for a story he'd heard before. The waitress barely paused as she passed by, John's nod affirming 'the usual.'
"Ugh," John put his forehead in his palms. "Well, I lost my temper. Not at Amy, but in front of Amy and Herman and Frank, and these other clients I haven't mentioned, and... it got ugly. I made an ass of myself in front of several important people."
"That isn't like you. Putting your foot in your mouth is to be expected, but what caused you to lose your temper?"
"I know, it's really not like me, but now Amy thinks I have anger issues and nothing could be farther from the truth, but just try and convince her. Anyway, now that she's seen me put my hands on someone --"
"What? It got physical? What the hell happened? Go back to the beginning!"
"Okay, okay. We were at the grand opening for 'The Polished Nickel' the new club Herman just opened. Remember that restaurant 'Philippe's' in the Meat Packing District?"
William shook his head.