Once Upon A Time Read online

  “Look, just go to the appointment and see what it looks like, you don’t have to wear it. Just at least take a look at what she’s designed for you. It’s Vera Wang, Pay!”

  I sighed, my shoulders sagging.

  “Okay, fine. But if I fall on my face again, you better hope you can run fast in those heels you’re wearing.” I pointed at her ridiculously high heels on her feet.

  “When’s the appointment?” She smirked.

  I took another look at the note, noticing today's date: the appointment was in an hour.

  “In an hour, apparently,” I said, turning the note over in my hand as I tried to wrap my head around what was actually happening.

  “Ah,” She chuckled. “He’s been on a 'vow of silence,' as you so delicately put it, right?”

  I nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

  “He isn't answering any form of communication, right?”

  I nodded again. “Where are you going with this, Kylie?”

  She chuckled once more. “God damn it, he’s a genius.” She grabbed my hand, pulling me from the chair and out of my office.

  I pulled back but she didn't loosen her grip on my wrist. I smiled awkwardly at my co-workers who looked on in confusion as she dragged me past.

  Yeah, you and me both.

  “I'll be back in ten!” Kylie yelled over her shoulder to who I presumed was Phil before dragging me down to the foyer. By the time we got out onto the street, she was already hailing a cab and still hadn’t told me what the hell she was doing.

  “Seriously, if you don’t tell me what’s going on, the cops will have to peel your body from the sidewalk. What the hell is wrong with you?” I pulled back my wrist as a cab pulled up and she held open the door for me.

  “Get in.” She pointed.

  I slid in and she shut the door. I opened the window, wondering why she hadn’t gotten in with me. What the hell was going on?

  “You’ll thank me in the end.” She smiled before reading off the address of Vera Wang’s private studio to the cab driver and patting the roof of the cab.

  “Kylie Jackson, I’m going to kill you!” I screamed out the window as the cab moved into the mayhem of New York City.

  Fan-fucking-tastic.

  BY THE TIME THE CAB ROLLED up at Vera Wang, I was beyond pissed at Kylie, I was nuclear pissed. What the hell was she playing at? I didn't understand her little light bulb moment and I’m sure most normal people wouldn’t either.

  I sighed as I paid the driver and stepped out of the cab, deciding I’d better go in and see what all the fuss was about. Rolling my shoulders, I inhaled deeply, trying to find some courage as I made my way towards the old brick building. I felt my heart pound in my chest as my heels clacked louder than usual against the stone steps that graced the entrance of the studio. I paused when I reached the main doors, unsure as I took everything in.

  I wasn’t at a Vera Wang store.

  In Kylie’s light bulb moment, I managed to grab the note from Gabriel and, much to my distaste, his credit card. Pulling the note out of my back pocket, I turned it over in my hands again, hoping to find the address Kylie had read off to the cab driver. As I turned it over, I noticed the address in small print on the bottom of the note.

  Of course.

  Would I expect it to be any different?

  Looking up, I gazed at the large black frosted glass doors, I shook my head. Funny what money could really do.

  Taking a breath, I opened the door and with a gulp, stepped into one of the most stunning buildings I’d ever had the honor of gracing. The floor was polished dark wood. I stopped briefly, concerned my shoes would ruin the, no doubt extremely expensive flooring.

  “I think Heidi Klum did the exact same thing when she came to her first appointment for her wedding dress.”

  Shaking my head, I came face to face with a woman who screamed money and affluence. Her dark brunette hair, the color a shade most women only dreamed of, was wrapped tight in a low chignon. Although simply wearing a tight black pencil skirt and a white blouse, I assumed the outfit cost more than my parents' house back in Kentucky. Of course, her feet were sporting a pair of Louboutins. It seemed no matter where you worked, even the esteemed studio of Vera Wang, everyone wore Louboutins.

  “I’m sorry?”

  I wasn’t entirely sure what I was apologizing for, maybe walking my broke ass into such an expensive place. I wasn’t sure, but I felt intimidated.

  “Never apologize.” She shook her head, walking towards me. “You’re standing in the studio of Vera Wang. There’s no reason for you to be sorry. Heidi did the exact same thing… you know, wondering if her shoes might ruin the floor.”

  Okay. People with money are fruit cakes.

  “Um.” I paused, trying hard not to apologize again. “I have an appoint—”

  “Appointment. Yes, Mr. Black is a dear friend of the label.” She smiled, the sincerity of it caught me a little off guard. “I’m Meshia, Vera Wang’s assistant.”

  She held out her hand and smiled once more. Placing my hand in hers, I became a little more comfortable than when I first stepped inside the building.

  “Payton Miller,” I replied.

  “Well, Miss Miller, would you like to see your dress?”

  Without giving me chance to even take anything in, she released my hand and turned on her heels, my eyes following her fluid movements as she walked towards the other end of the hallway.

  “Shit,” I muttered, trying to catch up with Meshia, cringing every time I heard my heels scrape against the floor.

  I came to a screeching halt behind her, nearly tackling her to the floor. Damn it. This was way out of my comfort zone. We’d stopped at a white door and I watched in curiosity as Meshia touched the keypad to the right of the door and opening it in one fluid motion.

  We stepped inside and as my eyes landed on the room, I was in awe. The room was wall to wall white. The space was three times the size of my apartment, and the high ceilings only made the room feel bigger than it really was. I felt like a child in a candy store, wanting so badly to throw my arms out to either side of me and spin around on the spot. The place screamed money from the outside, but inside it’s like that entire world no longer existed. Gone was the money, the classes and even the expensive perfume which drifted from Meshia beside me.

  A smile played at my lips as my gaze moved around the room, taking everything in. It was worlds apart from where I came from, but the beauty of both seemed to mesh together. I let my eyes roam and explore as Meshia moved from my side, walking along the exposed floorboards to a white clothing bag hanging from a hook on the far right wall, the Vera Wang logo prominent in bold black font.

  “Vera designed this specifically for you, Miss Miller. Very few have had the honor of even standing where you are.” The zipper opening on the bag echoed around the room, pulling me from my thoughts. I turned towards the bag, wondering what lay within it. “We’ll need to make some alterations but Mr. Black was very good at giving estimates of your size.”

  The white bag fell away like autumn leaves sailing from the branches as the seasons changed, and like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, there stood something of sheer beauty.

  Fine royal blue material floated to the ground as if making its grand entrance. A gasp escaped my lips as I stepped forward, tentative in my movement. As if afraid of what this dress really represented. I was afraid. I was frightened. I was terrified. But among all that, I was curious.

  “The corset of the dress is finely boned so you won’t feel it beneath the material. The skirt fishtails from the knee so you’re able to walk fluidly, without worrying about tripping over the material, and the dress is secured with a single zipper starting from the base of the back and finishing at the bust line.” Meshia was talking but I really wasn’t listening; all I wanted to do was try on the dress. My earlier concerns about what this meant and how Gabriel had thrown his credit card at me seemed to disappear. “Are you ready to try it o
n?”

  “Hmm?” I muttered, still looking at the dress.

  “Follow me.” She grabbed the dress from the hook and walked to the opposite side of the large space, opening a door I hadn’t seen when I first gazed around the room. Walking to her side, I peered through the door. If I hadn't been awestruck before, I certainly was now.

  Stepping into the side room, I noticed the design changed. Instead of white walls and black frosted glass windows, it was black walls and white frosted glass. The flooring had changed from exposed wood to a thick white carpet. In the middle of the room stood a small circular platform, raised a couple of inches from the carpet. Opposite the platform, lining the entire the right wall, were floor to ceiling mirrors.

  “The black and white are the label colors, but also we tend to lean more towards bridal wear than fashion. Celebrity weddings usually consist of two things: a ridiculous budget and a request for a unique Vera Wang dress,” Meshia said, stepping into the room and placing the dress on another metal hook on the back wall.

  “Once you’ve changed into the dress, give me a shout and we can start making some adjustments.” Meshia smiled before turning and leaving the room.

  I let out a heavy sigh the moment I heard the door click into place. Here I was, standing in the middle of Vera Wang’s personal studio, the place where she designed seasons worth of stunning fashion. I may be from the sticks of Kentucky but even I understood just how fortunate I was to be in a place like this.

  I shook my head as I stepped on to the platform and gazed at my reflection. This was not me. I needed a friend, someone to hold my hand as I stood in a world where I'd never really ventured.

  Pulling out my cell, I sent a text to the two people I knew would not only appreciate my apprehension but also squeal in child-like fashion at the mere mention of Vera Wang.

  Me: Guys, I need help.

  As I set down my cell, the door to my right opened and in walked a smiling Meshia with a glass of champagne. Who drinks champagne while trying on a dress? Oh, wait. People with more money than sense.

  “Something wrong with the dress, Miss Miller?” Meshia asked, setting the champagne glass on a small table beside the door.

  What the hell did I say to her? Oh hey, so... I’m kinda used to buying my clothes from a thrift store and my best friend lets me borrow her Louboutins because I’m broke?

  “This,” I waved my hand around, “is so out of my depth.”

  Meshia smiled politely.

  “Don’t worry. Mr. Black thought you might be apprehensive. I presume you’ve already called your friends?” she asked, raising her brow.

  Shit. She’d already informed me it was an honor to stand in the personal studio of Vera Wang, I doubt they’d let just anyone off the street walk in, even my best friends.

  I nodded my head gently, looking down at the plush carpet beneath my pair of cheap heels.

  “Good, I’ll send them through when they arrive.”

  What?

  “Er. Thank you?” I said quizzically.

  “Like I said before, Miss Miller, Mr. Black is a close friend of the label, what he wants, he gets and he wants you to be comfortable.” She smiled before leaving me alone in the room, the most stunning dress I’d ever seen staring back at me.

  Groaning out loud, I shook my head and walking to the small table by the door, I grabbed the champagne glass. Without thinking, I threw back the bubbly liquid down my throat.

  “Ugh.” I smacked my lips together.

  I don’t care how expensive, champagne is nasty.

  Setting the glass back down on the table, I turned towards the dress that was luring me in. Stepping towards it, I ran my fingertips over the blue fabric of the bodice. It’s so smooth and soft beneath my fingers, I was afraid I’d ruin it merely by touching it. This so wasn’t me.

  Why the hell am I here? To prove how big the divide is between the ridiculously rich and the utterly broke?

  Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my cell from the podium and made my way towards the door, wondering how the hell I’d tell Meshia I wouldn’t be taking or wearing the dress. I hoped they wouldn’t be offended but the moment my hand grasped the handle on the door, a force opened it from the other side.

  I sighed in utter relief when I saw the smiling and excited faces of my best friends. Although the moment Kylie saw the stress lines on my forehead, she shoved me back into the room, along with Quinn, shutting the door behind her.

  “Okay. What’s wrong?” Her hands came down on my shoulders as she stared me straight in the eyes, trying to work out what my problem was. “It’s the money thing,” she evaluated, clearly reading my mind.

  “Take a look at it, Kylie.” I sighed, averting my gaze to the floor.

  Kylie and Quinn’s gazes searched the room until they landed on the swath of blue fabric hanging from the clothing hook behind me.

  “Oh. My. God.” Kylie gasped.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” Quinn shrieked, covering his mouth with his hands.

  My only response was a deep groan.

  “Payton Miller!” Kylie screeched from behind me, the high pitch tone in her voice grabbing my attention. Turning, I chuckled. Kylie’s hands sat on her hips and I’m positive I saw her foot tapping against the floor. “You’re going to try this dress on without a single complaint, even if it’s just to feed our love of Vera Wang.” She waved her hand to indicate herself and Quinn. Quinn nodded his head a few times before taking the dress down from the hook.

  “I’m so not comfortable with this.” I groaned, my eyes shifting to the dress as Kylie walked towards me.

  She rolled her eyes, dramatic as always.

  “Either you get out of those clothes voluntarily or Quinn and I will strip you ourselves.”

  My gaze moved to Quinn, who wore the most menacing smirk I’d seen in a long time.

  “Fine. But if I don’t like it, I’m taking it off and were all going to march down to the Bistro for copious amounts of cheesecake, and I never want to hear about this experience ever again.” I hardened my gaze towards Kylie. “Okay?”

  Kylie smirked and nodded while Quinn gave a wink.

  Sighing, I held out my arms for the dress. Kylie laid it across my forearms and pointed to the far left corner of the room where a divider stood, finally giving into my prudish ways.

  Marching over, I placed the dress carefully across the chair which sat behind the screen and proceeded to get undressed. I left my clothes in a heap on the floor, trying to listen in as I heard Meshia’s voice and a small squeal from Quinn, followed by an appreciative moan from Kylie. I presumed Meshia offered them some of the vile champagne I’d unceremoniously drank like a sailor.

  Turning back to the task at hand, I removed my bra. It was clear I couldn’t wear one with the amount of boning in the bodice of the dress. Taking the dress from the chair, I pulled down the zipper and stepped into the sheer fabric. I stared in awe as I pulled it up my body, basking in the softness grazing against my skin. Once in place, I splayed my hands over the cups of the dress, hoping it’d hide the girls before shouting for help from my best friends.

  Kylie stepped behind the screen and smiled wide. After handing her champagne glass to Quinn, she zipped me up. I chuckled quietly as I watched Quinn take a sip from his glass before switching to Kylie’s glass. He was going to be wasted by the time the damn dress was secured.

  “There!” Kylie announced, placing the tiny hook into the eye at the very top of the bodice. “Open your eyes, honey,” she whispered.

  I hadn’t realized I’d momentarily closed my eyes. I was terrified of seeing myself encased in something of pure beauty, worried I’d fall in love with it. Finding some courage, I slowly opened my eyes as Kylie placed her hand in mine, guiding me towards the platform in the center of the room.

  Stepping on the podium, I turned towards the floor to ceiling mirrors and audibly gasped. The dress was… there were no words to truly describe what I was looking at. Beauty, masterpiece, a cre
ation which could only be described as true craftsmanship. The fabric accentuated every curve and sat flush against my skin. The royal blue color only brought out my slight tan of my skin and made me seem taller than my five foot two frame. The fishtail of the dress pooled around my feet as I stared in utter disbelief.

  “Honey, you’re a vision!” Quinn squealed, sloshing a little champagne on the expensive flooring before hiccupping and giggling to himself.

  Kylie rolled her eyes at him before turning back to me.

  “What do you think?” she asked tentatively, chewing on the corner of her bottom lip.

  Turning back to the mirror, I took in the reflection staring back at me. The dress was exactly what I feared. Amazing and, of course, I already didn’t want to take it off. I’d fallen in love with the dress, the design, the whole package. Could I really do this? Could I accept something as lavish as a dress designed exclusively by Vera Wang? I was teetering on a cliff I didn’t know existed and I was both petrified and a little excited.

  “Fuck me.” I gasped, the lady-like version of myself nowhere to be seen.

  “That’s what she said.” Quinn hiccuped, throwing back the rest of the champagne from both glasses, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “You’re so drunk right now, aren’t you?” Kylie rolled her eyes as Quinn giggled in response.

  Oh yeah, he was wasted.

  Turning back to my sober friend, I knew I had a decision to make.

  “I’m not comfortable with this,” I admitted. “I mean, what are we talking for a one of a kind Vera Wang?”

  Kylie twisted her mouth, stepping around me to look at the dress in more detail. That was worrying. Kylie had always been the girl with the money. Her parents both came from old money with lavish lifestyles to boot and I knew nine times out of ten she’d only have to glance at a piece of clothing to determine an approximate price for it. She was studying the dress in far more detail than I was used to; I had no doubt it was going to give me a stroke.

  Coming full circle, she stopped in front of me, giving the dress another once over before looking back at me and shrugging her shoulders.