Finding You by Daphne Elliot

6

ASTRID

I loved downtown Havenport.Along the cobblestone sidewalks, historic buildings were sandwiched between farm-to-table restaurants and kitschy shops. There were people everywhere, even on a Tuesday afternoon. And delicious smells wafted through the air. I wanted to browse all the shops and soak up the lively town vibe. However, I was on a mission. I had to get some normal clothes. Emily had dropped me off while she ran errands, and I had to finish up quickly so she could pick Jacob up at preschool. So I had to stay focused.

I was going to enjoy this time off. I was going to embrace Havenport and all it had to offer, especially if that involved my sexy neighbor.

Jeanius Bar was a large storefront in an old brick building. I opened the doors and was assaulted by more jeans than I had ever seen in my life. The store was huge, with airy cathedral ceilings and large chandeliers hanging over an industrial space. There were colorful couches and tables piled high with denim.

I considered turning around and going home to order stuff online. This was so not my scene. I was not a shopper. I had no time to just browse around and try things on. Twice a year, I met Lara, my personal shopper, at Neiman Marcus, and she pulled a few things for me. I spent twenty minutes trying them on, chose a few things, and she charged my credit card while I was getting dressed. So I had a well-planned wardrobe consisting mainly of black and gray with carefully selected accessories. Every morning I just got up and put on a dark suit or a shift dress. It saved a lot of time and energy and suited my lifestyle just fine.

Before I could escape, a loud, curvy woman appeared from behind a display of sweaters.

“Hello.”

“Hi.” I tried to give her a smile, but it probably looked like I was having a stroke. Years spent behind a laptop and in meeting rooms had not done much for my social skills.

“You must be Emily’s cousin! I’m so happy to meet you.”

I gave her a strange look.

She waved a jeweled smart phone at me. “She texted me you were coming in and I had to help you and do it quickly. I’m Nora.”

God, information traveled quickly in this town. “I’m Astrid.” I stuck out my hand and gave her a firm shake. She smiled at me, clearly thinking I was mentally ill. She was pretty and vivacious. She had a short, curvy body that was highlighted to perfection by a pair of dark wash, high-rise jeans and a pink wrap sweater that looked soft to the touch. She had long dark hair and wore bright red lipstick, the kind of shade I was way too chicken to ever try.

“First of all, wow, you are gorgeous. I am going to have so much fun dressing you.”

I smiled weakly. What was I supposed to say to that?

“And second, what are you looking for?”

I laughed. I had no idea what I was looking for. A new life? A way to get my old life back? A time machine so I could go back and become a dentist instead of a lawyer?

She gave me a kind smile. Maybe Emily had warned her that I was an awkward mess. “Do you want some coffee? I really need caffeine right now.”

“Yes.” This woman was speaking my language.

“Follow me.”

I watched as Nora led me to a lounge area in the back near the fitting rooms. There was an oak-topped bar with a huge copper espresso machine, likely handmade in Italy. Someone who consumed as much caffeine as I did could spot a fine piece of machinery at a distance. “Is that a La Marzocco?” I was amazed. It was a thing of beauty.

“Yes. Good eye. My family owns a bunch of Italian restaurants. I got it through one of their equipment reps. I drink a lot of coffee, plus I think it adds something to the space.”

“It certainly does.” I was liking Nora more and more.

“What can I make you?”

“Cappuccino.”

“Does almond milk work?”

“Totally.”

Nora got to work, and I was mesmerized by the sounds and smells. “So what brings you to Havenport?” she asked innocently.

“I lost my job as a corporate lawyer. I’m really not happy about it. And I needed to get away from the city and my office. Anyway, I’m staying at my aunt’s cottage, and it came to my attention that all I own are suits and workout clothes.” I had no idea how to answer her question, and I was so disarmed by her charm and her five-figure coffee apparatus that I just verbally vomited all over her. I needed to get it together. Wentworths never got emotional, especially in front of strangers.

She nodded at me, and I could tell she had a lot of questions.

“And so I came here because I need some new clothes. I need a change. Something different. I want jeans, and cute tops, and regular person clothes, not high-achieving lawyer clothes.”

Nora grinned. She was clearly a very kind and patient person because I was rambling like the village idiot.

“You came to the right place, girl. I will hook you up.”

Five minutes later I was standing in a hot pink dressing room, stripped down to my sports bra and undies while Nora piled stacks of clothes on an upholstered bench for me to try on.

“So tell me, what happened with your job?”

I felt oddly comfortable with Nora. Her boisterous personality was disarming, and it had been so long since I had talked to another woman my age besides Emily. “It’s a long story. But basically I got fired. I was unfairly blamed for a mistake I didn't make. A partner had been… inappropriate with me for a while and I rejected his advances. He then blamed me for this mistake and here I am.” I shrugged, not wanting to get further into this.

“That is both illegal and immoral. Who is the asshole and where can I find him?”

As a woman with a deep well of rage, I admired that quality in others. “Yes. Exactly! You get it,” I said.

“So you’re a smart, ass-kicking lawyer. Why don’t you sue those jerks and own that law firm?” I had certainly thought about it. Many times. But I didn’t have enough evidence to make my case. When I was fired I had to hand over my company phone and laptop. Without those, I had no evidence other than my word. No one knew about what had happened with Max, and when I hinted to our practice development manager about it after the fact, she said that I should just put my head down and keep working. She said making a big deal about it would hurt my career more than it would hurt his.

In retrospect I should have kept records, noted all the details. But I never thought in a million years this would happen. I was great at my job. I just assumed things would go back to normal and he would get over it. Apparently, that narcissistic bastard was more evil than I thought.

“It’s a little more complicated than that. But I’m currently weighing my options.” That was a bit of a lie. Mainly, I was just sulking and flying into fits of rage at the moment, but I fully intended to do a thorough legal analysis to determine the feasibility of any type of suit I could bring against them. But mostly I was just waiting, hoping that they would realize it wasn’t my fault and let me come back and reclaim what I had worked so hard to build. It was naïve but it was all I could manage right now.

“You look amazing,” she exclaimed. I examined myself in the three-way mirror. Never in a thousand years would I ever think to wear bright red jeans, but she was not wrong. These were killer.

“I love the color red,” I told her, smoothing the waistband over my hips. “But I don’t actually own any red clothes.”

“Oh, we are fixing that right now. You look amazing. Your legs! They go on forever.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. I looked cool and young. When I looked in the mirror, I finally saw a thirty-two-year-old woman looking back at me. Not an exhausted husk of a person wearing a black suit and carrying oversized eye bags.

Nora made me pair the jeans with a slouchy cropped black-and-white striped sweater. It was soft and fuzzy and showed off the high waist of the jeans.

“Can I take a photo of you? I am doing a new marketing initiative where I try to show the clothes on real bodies. I mostly take photos of myself and my bestie, Cece, but you look so hot right now I feel like, as a business owner, I need to document this.”

“Sure,” I said, feeling self-conscious. I was not comfortable having my photo taken. I didn’t go to parties or on vacation, so I didn’t have many occasions for photo taking. I wasn’t exactly snapping selfies while drinking lukewarm coffee in my office at eleven p.m.

She took a few photos of me and showed me. “Do you mind if I post this one on the Jeanius Bar Instagram page?” I shook my head.

“Do you have a photo release?” I asked. Her head snapped up from her phone. Shit. I had inadvertently snapped at her in my lawyer voice.

“No. Why?” she asked, looking nervous.

Smile, Astrid. Don’t scare away your new friend.

I smiled. “No big deal. As an attorney, I would recommend you have a document that people can sign which releases you from liability for using their photos. That way you can use customers on your social media and there is no legal risk.”

She exhaled. “Thanks. I didn’t think of that. I just started doing this.”

“No, I get it. I wasn’t trying to intimidate you, and it is actually really easy. There are standard forms online, or I could just write one for you.”

“No. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“It would be my pleasure. It will probably take me twenty minutes. Give me your card. I’ll email you something tonight.”

“That is so kind of you. Thank you so much.”

“It’s the least I can do. You are the only person on earth who could talk me into red denim.”

“Talking people into doing things they don’t want to do is actually one of my superpowers.”

“I believe that.”

“You should.”

After ringing me up and giving me a significant discount, I headed toward the door to wait for Emily to pick me up.

“Hey, Astrid,” Nora called as I was leaving. “I do this great Krav Maga class down the street. You should come. You seem like the type of chick who would enjoy it.”

“What’s Krav Maga?”

“It’s Israeli self-defense. It’s basically a workout class that combines martial arts, boxing, wrestling, and conditioning. It’s pretty intense, but you get to punch stuff.”

I smiled. This girl clearly got me. “I’m in. I could use a good workout, and I’m not doing much.”

Nora jumped up and down and clapped. “Yes! Emily won’t take the class with me because it’s ‘too violent.’” She affected Emily’s airy voice, and I laughed out loud.

“I can see that,” I said. “But if Emily thinks it’s too violent then it’s probably just violent enough for me.”

“I knew I liked you.”

I ended up leaving Nora’s store with bags of new clothes and a new friend. She had given me her cell phone number, promised to text me about class, and invited me to her “coven,” whatever that meant. It had been a long time since I made a friend. Nora was cool and loyal and had just sold me a brand-new wardrobe at a steep discount. Not too shabby for a Tuesday.