Marla poses outside the shop in a stunning, sheer, gold dress. This same photograph will be used by the media to report on the grand opening, the day after the event.
“Don’t I look gorgeous, darrrrling?” Marla flirts shamelessly with the photographer, batting her eyelashes playfully and pouting for the camera.
As I look on I think, Poor man. It’s obvious that Marla has the photographer wrapped around her little finger. When reviewing the resulting photos, they are all perfect. The camera loves a beautiful confident woman.
Inside the shop it is a hum of last-minute activity. There are garments everywhere as final stitching and alterations take place. Buttons and bows have been added, or are being removed.
“Eugenio, basta! Eugenio, enough! I’m not changing this dress again. It’s the Opening Night tomorrow and the girls’ need the dresses for our practice tonight.” Esther’s voice lashes with a temper that has risen with the eleventh-hour changes Eugenio keeps making.
As cheeks are turning pink and she is starting to hyperventilate, I intervene. Walking up to Eugenio, I turn him around and steer him away. He starts to mutter but I shush him and keep pushing him forwards. Sensibly, he listens.
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