" No, I don't like it." - Probably for the hundredth time repeated Greg. Lana clenched her fists trying to calm down. All evening they were looking for a suitable dress, and this was the third and most expensive boutique in the city. In spite of her super strength, she was already exhausted from fatigue, but he didn't like anything.
"What's wrong with this dress?" - she was piqued, throwing an apologetic glance at the chief designer of the store, who was urgently pulled out of his house just for Mr. Wells.
"It is too plain." - Greg snapped, wrinkling.
"Are you even trying? Don't you have anything better?" - He turned to the designer. The artist silently rolled his eyes.
"Mr. Wells, I apologize, but this dress was made by me especially for the princess of one of the European countries, inspired by her beauty." - the man began to praise his creation, trying to hide his irritation.
"What is the name of this princess of yours?" - Without much interest in the voice asked Greg. Having received the answer, he took out his phone. Evidently finding the photo he wants, Greg grimaced.
"Well, daahh... Are you bling? She can't hold a candle to Lana even when she has puffy eyes and running nose." - He said, tsking in disapproval.
Lana glared at Greg and then looked back at the designer with concern. He was already on the verge of collapse.
"Okay, but what did you not like about this one?" - She decided to return to the previous dress. - "It emphasizes the figure, as you wanted, and the neckline is not so low."
"I said emphasizes the figure! I didn't mean it should be so tight so that I can count every pore on your backside from out there!" - Greg began to boil again. All the dresses for him were either too provocative or too simple.
"Ok, let's discuss what exactly you want." - Lana breathed out through her teeth and started a new. She already began to feel like a seller, not the buyer.
" But it is so simple! The dress must make you look like a goddess. But not so that everyone will stare at you, dripping with saliva. Simply admire and afraid to breathe in your direction. Just like when you are without a dress or anything on, but excluding any dirty thoughts. "
"Can you even do it yourself? Exclude dirty thoughts, I mean? " - Lana said with a cheeky smile.
"No. But I have the right to have them. You are mine! And they don't." - Greg drew a line.
The designer was almost on the verge of hysteria. Lana wanted to calm him down somehow when suddenly a man's face lit up with a smile. Then he frowned, grimaced, turned pale. From such a quick change of emotions, one could guess that the man is now going through some serious internal struggle.
Lana moved closer and took a glass of water from the table and handed it to the artist. Apparently, this was the last straw in the emotional fight of the man, because he slowly exhaled and spoke uncertainty.
" Actually, I have one dress that would suit you perfectly. As far as I can judge, even the size is entirely the same. But this is one of several dresses that I created especially for our most important client. He is quite eccentric. Every year, he orders one dress with clear instructions on how it should look, size and everything else. But in the end, when the dress is ready, he never takes it away, being satisfied with only one photo on a particular model from the back. And it's repeated every year for almost twenty years. "
The story was strange, and for some reason, Lana's heart sank. She felt so much sadness in it that her eyes involuntarily started to sting.
"So you have the dress?" - Greg said, not at all impressed by the tearjerking tale.
There was still doubt on the master's face.
"Yes. They are all here. But if I give it to you, and my client finds out about it, I won't get away in one peace. Even though, the dress, which I'm thinking about, is the last one and has not been paid for yet. Perhaps I will have time to make another one similar. But if he sees this one, he will immediately guess the trues."
The designer sighed sadly, not knowing what to do. He hesitated, debating, looking Lana from head to toe and mumbling something under his breath.
Greg, sick of watching these wavering, beckoned the man to him. He got his phone out and typed something on the screen and showed it to the approached artist. An apparent surprise appeared on the man's face. Greg raised one eyebrow questioningly, but the designer was still hesitant. Then Greg again wrote something on the screen and turned it towards the designer. His eyes became round like saucers.
"This is per month," - Greg said, highlighting every word, - "and one more thing."
Searching for something on the phone, Greg gestured to the master to move closer. And almost in a whisper, so that Lana wouldn't overhear, spoke, pointing to the screen.
" What do you think?"
The artist carefully watched the screen, and his eyes glittered. Then he threw a surprised look at Lana and again at the screen.
"Gorgeous girl." - the designer has stretched, and there was a myriad of new ideas dancing in his eyes.
"Exactly. My girls need only the best. Soon, Vicky's birthday coming up. Unfortunately, we could not celebrate her 16th birthday. Therefore, this time she should shine brighter than any star out there. Can you handle it?"
The master immediately shook his head like a dummy. Then his eyes caught on to something in the next shot.
"And this one? Is he yours too?" - with genuine admiration said the master, poking at the screen.
Greg grinned and nodded.
"Yes," - Greg replied, with a hint of pride in his voice. - "You can even measure him if you behave yourself."
The designer's face lit up with the biggest smile.
"I'll bring everything now," - he shouted, running off toward the back room.
Greg turned a pleased look at Lana. But for some reason, she did not smile back. Her cheeks burned, and her eyes filled with tears. Damn, he seems to have forgotten about the super-hearing of the shifters.
Greg silently stood up and headed towards the girl. Lana moved forward, not waiting for him to come up, and burrowed into his arms. Her shoulders were shaky, and soon Greg's shirt was dripping wet. He stroked her hair and back, trying to calm her down. Slightly pushing Lana back, Greg cupped her face in his hands and touched his nose to the tip of hers, as back then.
"Promise me that from now on you will cry only from happiness." - Greg whispered, peering into Lana's tearful eyes. Lana tried to nod, without separating their noses. It turned out funny, and they simultaneously burst out laughing.
At that moment the designer returned to the fitting room and stood on the threshold, not daring to interrupt the moment. Greg wiped out Lana's tiers with the sleeves of his jacket and pushed her toward the booth.
At the same time, the sound of his phone was heard. The screen displays the number of Marina. Greg silently gestured the designer to attend to Lana, hinting that they should start without him, took a call with a sigh and left the fitting room.
" No, I don't like it." - Probably for the hundredth time repeated Greg. Lana clenched her fists trying to calm down. All evening they were looking for a suitable dress, and this was the third and most expensive boutique in the city. In spite of her super strength, she was already exhausted from fatigue, but he didn't like anything.
"What's wrong with this dress?" - she was piqued, throwing an apologetic glance at the chief designer of the store, who was urgently pulled out of his house just for Mr. Wells.
"It is too plain." - Greg snapped, wrinkling.
"Are you even trying? Don't you have anything better?" - He turned to the designer. The artist silently rolled his eyes.
"Mr. Wells, I apologize, but this dress was made by me especially for the princess of one of the European countries, inspired by her beauty." - the man began to praise his creation, trying to hide his irritation.
"What is the name of this princess of yours?" - Without much interest in the voice asked Greg. Having received the answer, he took out his phone. Evidently finding the photo he wants, Greg grimaced.
"Well, daahh... Are you bling? She can't hold a candle to Lana even when she has puffy eyes and running nose." - He said, tsking in disapproval.
Lana glared at Greg and then looked back at the designer with concern. He was already on the verge of collapse.
"Okay, but what did you not like about this one?" - She decided to return to the previous dress. - "It emphasizes the figure, as you wanted, and the neckline is not so low."
"I said emphasizes the figure! I didn't mean it should be so tight so that I can count every pore on your backside from out there!" - Greg began to boil again. All the dresses for him were either too provocative or too simple.
"Ok, let's discuss what exactly you want." - Lana breathed out through her teeth and started a new. She already began to feel like a seller, not the buyer.
" But it is so simple! The dress must make you look like a goddess. But not so that everyone will stare at you, dripping with saliva. Simply admire and afraid to breathe in your direction. Just like when you are without a dress or anything on, but excluding any dirty thoughts. "
"Can you even do it yourself? Exclude dirty thoughts, I mean? " - Lana said with a cheeky smile.
"No. But I have the right to have them. You are mine! And they don't." - Greg drew a line.
The designer was almost on the verge of hysteria. Lana wanted to calm him down somehow when suddenly a man's face lit up with a smile. Then he frowned, grimaced, turned pale. From such a quick change of emotions, one could guess that the man is now going through some serious internal struggle.
Lana moved closer and took a glass of water from the table and handed it to the artist. Apparently, this was the last straw in the emotional fight of the man, because he slowly exhaled and spoke uncertainty.
" Actually, I have one dress that would suit you perfectly. As far as I can judge, even the size is entirely the same. But this is one of several dresses that I created especially for our most important client. He is quite eccentric. Every year, he orders one dress with clear instructions on how it should look, size and everything else. But in the end, when the dress is ready, he never takes it away, being satisfied with only one photo on a particular model from the back. And it's repeated every year for almost twenty years. "
The story was strange, and for some reason, Lana's heart sank. She felt so much sadness in it that her eyes involuntarily started to sting.
"So you have the dress?" - Greg said, not at all impressed by the tearjerking tale.
There was still doubt on the master's face.
"Yes. They are all here. But if I give it to you, and my client finds out about it, I won't get away in one peace. Even though, the dress, which I'm thinking about, is the last one and has not been paid for yet. Perhaps I will have time to make another one similar. But if he sees this one, he will immediately guess the trues."
The designer sighed sadly, not knowing what to do. He hesitated, debating, looking Lana from head to toe and mumbling something under his breath.
Greg, sick of watching these wavering, beckoned the man to him. He got his phone out and typed something on the screen and showed it to the approached artist. An apparent surprise appeared on the man's face. Greg raised one eyebrow questioningly, but the designer was still hesitant. Then Greg again wrote something on the screen and turned it towards the designer. His eyes became round like saucers.
"This is per month," - Greg said, highlighting every word, - "and one more thing."
Searching for something on the phone, Greg gestured to the master to move closer. And almost in a whisper, so that Lana wouldn't overhear, spoke, pointing to the screen.
" What do you think?"
The artist carefully watched the screen, and his eyes glittered. Then he threw a surprised look at Lana and again at the screen.
"Gorgeous girl." - the designer has stretched, and there was a myriad of new ideas dancing in his eyes.
"Exactly. My girls need only the best. Soon, Vicky's birthday coming up. Unfortunately, we could not celebrate her 16th birthday. Therefore, this time she should shine brighter than any star out there. Can you handle it?"
The master immediately shook his head like a dummy. Then his eyes caught on to something in the next shot.
"And this one? Is he yours too?" - with genuine admiration said the master, poking at the screen.
Greg grinned and nodded.
"Yes," - Greg replied, with a hint of pride in his voice. - "You can even measure him if you behave yourself."
The designer's face lit up with the biggest smile.
"I'll bring everything now," - he shouted, running off toward the back room.
Greg turned a pleased look at Lana. But for some reason, she did not smile back. Her cheeks burned, and her eyes filled with tears. Damn, he seems to have forgotten about the super-hearing of the shifters.
Greg silently stood up and headed towards the girl. Lana moved forward, not waiting for him to come up, and burrowed into his arms. Her shoulders were shaky, and soon Greg's shirt was dripping wet. He stroked her hair and back, trying to calm her down. Slightly pushing Lana back, Greg cupped her face in his hands and touched his nose to the tip of hers, as back then.
"Promise me that from now on you will cry only from happiness." - Greg whispered, peering into Lana's tearful eyes. Lana tried to nod, without separating their noses. It turned out funny, and they simultaneously burst out laughing.
At that moment the designer returned to the fitting room and stood on the threshold, not daring to interrupt the moment. Greg wiped out Lana's tiers with the sleeves of his jacket and pushed her toward the booth.
At the same time, the sound of his phone was heard. The screen displays the number of Marina. Greg silently gestured the designer to attend to Lana, hinting that they should start without him, took a call with a sigh and left the fitting room.
