God! Oh, dear Lord, don’t let it happen!” She pressed her palms to her cheeks.
Mary was not able to go back to sleep, the images of a disfigured gown were implanted in her subconscious and she could not rid herself of the flashing nightmare scenario.
She knew, what could help her to regain her self-control.
Reverting to type, she went to the gym, and worked out until the time arrived to go and cope with her dress-related Fate.
***
Moving like a somnambulist, she neared the counter, and passed the receipt over. With her teeth chattering, Mary stared at the rack full of plastic bags with clothes. Her eyes ran over everything on display, but she didn’t spot a green one. Her legs couldn’t hold her up properly, and the girl leaned on the counter almost fainting with the terror of waiting.
The clerk put something in front of her. In her state of mind, Mary didn’t understand at first. She gasped, made an effort, and took the gown.
Dizzily bright green, the dress looked like it was made with real emeralds!
Mary carefully checked the whole garment. Not even the tiniest imperfection could be found! The shiny fabric shimmered brilliantly, and all Mary’s worries had immediately disappeared. She laughed with happiness, and pressed the gown to her chest.
“Do you like it?” the clerk asked, smiling at her reaction.
“It’s wonderful!” Mary mumbled, hastily taking out her wallet. Usually thrifty, that day she left generous tips, and rushed home.
***
When she dashed out the elevator, she collided with Father Frank.
“Sorry,” she murmured, showing a drunk smile.
“Mister Noirson called me about the party you are going to attend,” the priest said, and the girl gazed at him. “It’s a very important event. For the first time you’ll present our team all by yourself. Come to my office, I’ll give you the promotional material.”
“Right now?” Mary wanted to try on the dress first.
“No, dear, when you have time, of course.” The priest nodded.
***
In the apartment, Mary literally jumped out of her clothes, and with a broad smile, hastily put the dress on.
She sucked in a deep breath, patted the fabric against her thighs and tummy and looked in the mirror.
“Hah!” she said, satisfied. “It’s much better!”
She noticed that her color of choice showed her as less the innocent one and more the sexy young woman. It affected her likewise.
When she turned, she resembled a magic lizard. She was a goddess, but a goddess of lust. She loosened her hair and the gold mane made her look like a Nereid or mermaid.
She twirled and pirouetted enjoying the feel of her wonderful frock, so smooth and swishy against her body, so complimentary to her figure, so reflective of her joie de vivre as a young woman in love with a rich powerful sweet man like Robert. She was flushed, blushing and extremely sensitive when she finally took a breather.
“Wow!” Mary enjoyed the result of her experiment. “Watch out, party! Here I come!”
Keeping her eyes on her reflection, she took the phone, and dialed the number.
“Yes?” She heard Robert’s reserved voice and hazarded a guess.
“Are you busy?” Mary closed her eyes, desperate for her instincts to be completely wrong.
“I’m in the middle of a conference,” he answered. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, sorry! Take care!” Mary quickly hang up, disappointed not to be able to share her excitement.
***
In the accessories store another wonder was waiting for Mary.
This time she surprised herself.
She could not choose the pumps! She liked them all. Never in her life had she experienced the choice of such fabulous footwear; so comfortable, light and soft!
“I can’t even feel them,” Mary mumbled, trying on the next pair. “My Goodness! It’s like I’m barefoot! I bet I could even prance wearing them! But which ones should I take? I’m not a centipede, for God’s sake!”
The pile of the shoes on the floor became bigger, and bigger. Mary wanted to cry.
“You can take a few pairs,” the worker finally offered.
This phrase sobered Mary up. Ashamed and amazed about herself, she chose the three pairs that she liked the most, and left the store.
***
As Farther Frank requested, Mary went to his office, and over the course of two hours, they discussed and browsed the orphanage’s promotional material.
Mary took a pack of brochures, and leafed through them. She adored the design.
The second page made her smile. There was an article about Noirson’s Corporation, and hot wave of excitement washed her all over when she saw the photo of her beloved Robert.
But then, with her heart in her mouth, she carefully read, and re-read a section of text.
Frowning, Mary pointed her slender well-manicured finger at a line that had grabbed her attention for rather less warming reasons than she expected from studying a brochure about good works in the community. She addressed the priest. “Look, Father.”
Frank obliged and read out loud; “I, the LORD, do all these things. Isaiah 45:7. So, Mary, what’s your point?”
“Out of context this phrase sounds as if Mister Noirson is the Lord, and it is his Corporation that the rules the world!”
Father Frank was surprised with her words.
“Mary, you did study marketing, didn’t you? The designer just abbreviated the passage to save some place. They pay by the word, you know, and every penny counts!”
He frowned at the irony of his words, picturing the sorry state of affairs with the orphanage budget. He continued, “And, anyway, it sounds okay to me.”
“Read it again,” insisted Mary. Frank sighed, shook his head and repeated it slowly. He looked at her again. “Mary, when I read it, I do not detect any connection between Mister Noirson…” He paused, and added, unable to hold back a smile. “However, I do understand why you did.”
Mary blushed, ashamed, Oh My God, is my crush on Robert so noticeable?
She grabbed a mouse-pad with combined logos of Noirson’s Corporation and her team, and subtly used it as a fan to try and disperse the warm feelings that had made her mouth dry and her fingers tingle.
Making a complete hash of staying cool after Father Frank’s throwaway comment, she stuttered, “Nice work!” and treated the mat like an antique dealer would a delicate Etruscan vase, studying it all over, practically holding it up to the light. “Who designed this?”
The priest was enchanted by her naive reaction.
Not all the youth of today have lost their innocence, he mused. “You probably know this girl. Last month she won the award in the art contest for the best sports sketch.”
“Oh, yes!” Mary beamed. “Sure, I know her! She’s a gifted girl all right. We should send her to design classes.”
“I don’t know,” Father Frank drawled, thinking. “I’m not sure we have that sort of spare money on hand at the moment.”
Drawing on another aspect of her charm, a quiet but clever line in persuasion, Mary persisted, “Father, you paid for my management training. Isn’t that investment paying off?”
“Yes,