Chapter 42: Meet.

Chapter 42: Meet.

"I mean it looks great but it doesn't scream "fuck you bitch"." Adam tells me and I let out a tired sigh.

We've been at the mall for three hours now and I still can't find a dress to wear.

My father had the audacity to ask me to have dinner with him and his mistress and my mother forced me to say yes. She said something about scoping out the competition.

I really don't understand how she thinks.

"I've tried on seven dresses already, Adam." I whine.

"Do you want to make a good first impression or not?" He asks me, placing his hands on his waist.

"I don't want to go." I tell him.

"Well, you're going, so we better find a dress and wrap this up." Adam says as he starts searching through the store.

"How about this one?" He says, holding up a white strapless gown.

"Am I attending my wedding after?" I ask him sarcastically.

"It's cute." He says and I roll my eyes at him.

"Come on. At least just try it." He pesters on.

"Fine, but after this, we get back to looking for a real dress." I tell him, snatching the dress from his hands.

"No need to get aggressive." He says, staring at me.

I ignore him as I walk inside the changing room. I unzip my yellow blouse and I take off my blue-washed jeans.

I try on the white dress and I have to say, I look smoking. The off-shoulder design flatters my collarbone and accentuates my bust. Not that I had much of it anyway. I walk out of the dressing room and Adam just stares at me, stunned.

"Are you having an erection or something?" I ask him.

"U-um, you look...great." He says, scratching the back of his head.

"Great?" I ask him.

"Yeah. It suits you." He tells me.

"We're getting this one." He tells the saleswoman.

"Says who?" I ask him and the saleswoman stops her movements and stares at me.

Adam waves her off and she walks towards the counter.

"Trust me." Adam says, massaging my back. I swat his arm away.

"Get your hands off me." I joke as I walk back into the changing room.

***

"Oh, you're back." My mother squeals.

Why is she so happy?

"Well, someone's in a giddy mood." I tell her, placing the shopping bag by the steps.

"Come would ya." She says, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the living room.

There's a vanity mirror where the coffee table used to be. A woman in a Sari stands beside it smiling at me.

"Valarie, this is Aarti." She tells me.

"Hi." I say, waving at her.

"Hello." She says with a thick British accent.

I was not expecting that.

I thought she was going to have an Indian accent.

Guess, you can't judge 'em by their looks anymore.

"Wow." I say, taken off guard.

"Well, Aarti is going to be your makeup artist for today." My mother tells me and I give her a dirty stare.

"I don't need a makeup artist." I say through clenched teeth.

"Yes, you do. You need to give this woman a show. Let her think "If his daughter looks like this, I wonder what his wife looks like"." She says, flashing me a smile.

She has lost her mind.

"Mother, I don't have to prove anything to that woman. She ruined your home, your life. And you want me to go over to her house and have dinner with her to prove what exactly?" I ask her.

"You need to be a good sport now. Make me proud." My mother tells me before she leaves.

I've never been more confused.

"Please, have a seat." Aarti tells me as she draws the seat out.

I sluggishly walk toward the chair and I sit on it.

"So, what look are you going for today?" She asks me.

"Just do what you think is best." I tell her. I really don't want to be here or do this.

"Okay then." She tells me as she opens up her makeup kit.

I have never seen so much makeup in one place in my life. She had at least fifteen different foundation bottles all lined up. I lost count of how many eyeshadow palettes she had. She really is a makeup artist.

She starts working on my face and I close my eyes, not wanting to get in the way as she works her magic on my eyebrows.

After a few minutes of silence and just letting Aarti work I finally speak.

"I thought you'd have an Indian accent." I tell her as she conceals my lower eyelid.

"Why? Is it the Sari?' She asks me as she gestures for me to close my eyes. She puts eyeshadow on it, I don't know what color it is as the mirror is behind me.

"No, I just thought that with your name being Aarti and all, you'd have an Indian accent." I comment.

"Well, not that it's any of your business, I am Indian, yes. I don't have an Indian accent because I grew up in a foster home in England and was later adopted by an English couple who had no children. I wear this Sari to honor my Indian roots." She says and I open my eyes as she places the palette on the table behind me.

"Have you ever been to India?" I ask her, curious to know more about her.

"Nope. Never." She says with sad eyes.

"Why?" I ask her.

"Can't afford it." She says, bluntly.

"Would you like to go there?" I ask her.

"It's number one on my bucket list." She tells me with a small smile on her face.

"What's number two?" I ask, prying.

"Own a pair of Louboutin heels." She says as she applies lipstick on my lips.

"I can be your genie for a day." I say and she stares at me.

"What?" She asks me.

"My father happens to own a jet. Two actually. Would you like to go to India?" I ask her and she just stares at me in shock.

"You...you don't have to. Really." She says, stuttering.

"I want to. You deserve it." I tell her.

"And to think I wasn't going to take this job today." She mutters under her breath.

"You'll leave on Friday. Is that okay with you?" I ask her.

"That's excellent. Oh My God, thank you so much." She says, squeezing my left hand.

"It's fine." I say, slowly removing my hand from her grip.

"Why are you doing this?" She asks me.

"I just feel like it. I mean, I can't live all my dreams and I want you to live yours. Life's too short." I tell her as she highlights my cheeks.

"I am eternally grateful, ma'am." She says, holding my hand.

Ma'am?

What am I?

Seventy four.

"My name is Valarie. Please don't call me 'ma'am' ever again." I tell her, laughing.

"All done." She says turning the chair to face the mirror.

"I look like a supermodel." I tell her as I stare at my reflection.

"And you should feel like one too." She tells me, touching my shoulder from behind.

"Valarie, it's time Andrè is waiting outside." My mother says as she walks into the living room.

I give Aarti my phone and I ask her to put her number in it. After she's done, I collect my phone and give her a hug before I head out the door.

***

"Dad, where is she?" I ask him, getting impatient.

My Dad and I are currently at this fancy restaurant called Checkers or something, I don't really remember. Turns out we weren't having dinner at her house. We've been waiting for his mistress for thirty minutes now.

"She'll be here" Is all he says as he types away on his phone.

I take a bite out of the sandwich my father ordered. It's pretty tasty.

A few minutes later, a woman walks towards our table with her clutch in her hand. Her blonde curls bounce as she sways her hips as she walks. The red dress she's wearing sticks to her like a second skin.

"Hello, Vince." She says as she leans to kiss my father on his cheek.

Barf.

"Valarie." She says, giving me a nod before she sits down beside my Dad.

This is so weird.

"Sierra is on her way here, she was out visiting her boyfriend." She tells my dad.

"Sierra? Who's that?" I ask her.

"Sierra is Gwen's daughter." He tells me.

"My pride and joy." Gwen beams.

I hope for my sake and sanity it's not the Sierra I know.

I see Sierra, Zachary's girlfriend, walk into the restaurant and I almost have a panic attack.

This can't be happening.

"Sorry mum, traffic was sick and Zachary wouldn't let me leave." Sierra says as she places her bag on the table and takes a seat beside me.

My father's mistress is the mother of Zachary's new girlfriend.

Langston, why do you hate me?