Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

Olivia

I smoothed my hands over the front of my pencil skirt, taking in the quiet calm of The Fifth Avenue Club. The air still carried the lingering scent of pine and cinnamon, mixed with the heady aroma of expensive perfume. Glittery decorations and twinkling lights adorned every surface, a reminder of the Christmas madness we'd just survived.

"Another day in paradise," I muttered to myself, forcing a smile as I made my way to the copper-colored reception desk.

It felt strange being at work without Caroline. We'd had such fun on Christmas Day with the drag queens, and now I was back in the real world, minus my partner in crime.

I tried to focus on the positive. At least our dragon lady of a boss was gone. Losing Griff as a client had been the final nail in Miranda’s coffin, and the department already felt calmer without her toxic presence.

I sank into a beige chair and booted up my computer, stealing glances at Caroline's desk that was now empty. The familiar ache of loneliness crept in, but I pushed it aside. I was happy for her. After everything she’d gone through with her awful ex, she deserved her alien prince charming. Besides, I did not want a boyfriend, and I certainly didn’t want a husband-to-be.

"You're fine, Liv," I told myself firmly. "You love being single. Freedom is your middle name."

I cringed at the cheesiness of this, but it was true. I thrived on the excitement of meeting new guys, the thrill of first dates, the endless possibilities. Why tie yourself down to one man when there were so many possibilities? And I would never end up like my mother and all her married friends who’d given up any semblance of personalities to be extensions of their rich husbands. I shuddered at the thought of their vacant smiles as they hung on their husbands’ arms, as if they were boneless creatures who would sink to the floor on their own.

But as I checked the digital appointment calendar, a traitorous little voice whispered in the back of my mind. Wouldn't it be nice to have someone to come home to? Someone who really knew you?

I shook my head, banishing the thought. Caroline had gotten lucky, but most men were not as great as Griff. Most guys expected to be taken care of, and for their jobs, their dreams, their time to take precedence. Even Caroline was leaving her home to follow her alien fiancé. Not that becoming a queen wasn’t a pretty good gig, but I wasn’t ready to give up anything for anyone.

My internal dialogue was interrupted by the clicking of high heels on the tile floor. I glanced up to see Mrs. Gardner, one of our regular clients, striding toward me with a luxurious, fake fur wrapped around her shoulders.

It took me a beat to remember that she was picking up her New Year's Eve dress after alterations. I plastered on my best smile and stood to greet her.

"Mrs. Gardner! It’s so lovely to see you. Your dress is all ready for you."

Mrs. Gardner preened under the attention, but as I guided her to the fitting room, she leaned in conspiratorially. "I made sure to eat almost nothing over Christmas, just so I'd fit into this size 2. It was torture watching everyone else enjoy their meals, but it will be worth it, don’t you think?”

My smile faltered for just a second. “You always look stunning.”

She disappeared into the private room, leaving me waiting outside and wondering what it was like to have a Christmas without indulgences. What was it like to avoid all the delicious carbs or holiday desserts? Did she not have one Christmas cookie or piece of pie with whipped cream? Could a slinky dress possibly be worth that?

"It fits like a glove!" Mrs. Gardner exclaimed as she burst from the fitting room and twirled in front of the mirror.

"Absolutely breathtaking," I agreed, although if I was being honest, she seemed a bit bony.

I had to force myself to keep smiling as I clocked her hip bones through the fabric. Normally, this would be the perfect moment to suggest a designer clutch or some statement jewelry. But my heart just wasn't in it. The thought of trying to upsell a thousand- dollar bag to someone who'd deprived herself of Christmas joy left a sour taste in my mouth.

As Mrs. Gardner changed back into her street clothes, I found myself wondering if I'd lost my edge. Personal shopping had always been a thrill—the challenge of finding the perfect piece, the rush of a big sale. But lately, it felt hollow.

These were the women my mother wanted me to become; they were the same type of women who would be at her New Year’s Eve party. I’d always gotten a twisted thrill in upselling them and making big commissions by knowing how to push their vanity buttons. But was this what I wanted to do with the rest of my life?

Maybe it was time for a change. Something with fewer Upper East Side yummy mummies obsessing over their dress sizes. But what else did I enjoy?

I mentally ran through potential career changes as I zipped the altered dress into a garment bag and wished Mrs. Gardner a good day.

Phone sex operator? No, I'd never be able to keep a straight face.

Celebrity assistant? That was just trading one type of crazy for another.

Nanny? Kids were cute, but also loud and sticky. Very sticky.

Dog walker? Now there was a thought. Dogs were way less judgmental than most of my clients…

"Olivia?"

I snapped back to reality to find Simon from HR standing at my desk, a petite redhead in tow.

"This is Pippa," he said, gesturing to the woman beside him and already backing away. "She's transferring over from bridal to help out here. Can you show her the ropes?"

"Oh, hey!" I pasted on my best welcoming grin, shaking off my career crisis. "Welcome to personal shopping. Fair warning, it's usually way crazier than this."

Pippa laughed, a tinkling sound like wind chimes, as she came around the desk and took Caroline’s old chair. "Oh, I'm sure! I can't wait to dive in. This lull is the perfect time to get my bearings."

As we chatted, I found myself warming to Pippa's bubbly energy. She’d worked with brides, so demanding clients were nothing new, and she was a fellow dating app aficionado, which meant we both had wild stories to swap.

"...and then he says, 'I hope you don't mind, but I brought my emotional support iguana!'"

I let out a bark of a laugh. "That’s amazing. Was it on a leash or in a carrier? Did you stay for the date?"

"Are you kidding?” Pippa’s eyes were wide. “He insisted on waiting for a table for three, so the iguana could have his own seat. I was out of there.”

We dissolved into giggles, and I felt some of the tension in my shoulders release. Maybe work wouldn't be so bad after all. Pippa would never be Caroline, but it might be nice to have a co-worker who understood my dating lifestyle.

"So," Pippa said, once we'd caught our breath. "Any big plans for New Year's Eve? Have you already got your date locked in?”

I released a heavy breath. I liked the woman, but I didn’t know her well enough to dump on her about my family drama. “New Year’s Eve isn’t my scene. It’s amateur hour when it comes to dating.”

She nodded, her smile dimming somewhat. “I guess you’re right, but we’re in Manhattan. It’s not like we can stay home and watch a movie.”

I would have rather stayed home and watched the world’s most painful action flick than go my mother’s party, but I just twitched one shoulder. “I’m not against going out, but it’s too crazy a night for a first date.”

Pippa put a hand on my arm. “I totally agree. I usually start warming up my New Year’s Eve prospects a few weeks out.”

“Anyone special?”

She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m not going to lie. I was a bit obsessed with the Valorian who was all over social media last week.”

I inhaled sharply. Did she know that the woman he’d chosen had worked here? Was that why she’d moved from bridal?

Then she waved a hand. “But he found someone else, and I’m over it. Luckily, I went out with a cute banker the week before last, and he asked me out again for this week.”

I leaned back in my chair. “Lucky you!”

“There’s still time to find you someone.”

Unless that someone would silence my mother on the topic of my future forever, I wasn’t interested.