She just came back from her trip to the clothing shop. Well, it was no ordinary store as her eyes almost dropped from their sockets at the monumental prices on their price tags.
How could these rich people spend so much money on such extravagance? Because they could. It was that simple while she and the rest of the people could only dream about it.
She remembered a particular time when her Uncle Evan brought her to something similar to this when she was young. She recalled how her eyes lit up as soon as they had walked into the room full of beautiful dresses.
"It is so lovely." She remembered saying, eyeing a pretty pink dress. It was such a beautiful dress with sparkling designs that she had to beg him to buy it for her as a gift.
She had never owned such an exquisite dress. When her uncle readily agreed to her, she was over the moon. She had no idea how much the dress cost then. But when her mother saw it, she asked her uncle never to buy her anything like that again.
Now, she realized that her mother was only looking after her. They were not exactly poor, but they were not rich either. But her mother had worked hard to give her a comfortable life.
Her mother instilled in her the value of being independent. And the worth of every penny they acquired. Therefore spending their hard-earned money on luxurious clothes was a big no. Besides, she could always buy something cheaper in a thrift store.
"Sir Julius. I am back, and I have your clothes." She called him when she did not see him in the living room.
As much as she wanted to indulge him and call him Grandpa Julius, she could not do it. She was afraid she would like the sound of it too much.
Eventually, she would liked him too much that she would find it hard when he finally left. It would break her heart and then miss him. After all, this was just temporary.
When she turned a corner, going to the nearby window, she noticed him on a table, working on something. He seemed busy as his eyes scanned the papers before him.
"Oh! You were fast. I was expecting you will spend at least a couple of hours or more before you return." The Count said without looking at her as he continued working.
On the other hand, she continued walking further inside the room, placing the clothes in her hand on a rack near the window. She also decided to open the curtains, allowing the natural light to flood the room.
She liked it when it was bright. It gives her a refreshing and lively feeling, dispersing away any gloominess circling her. And it somehow energized her, making her more optimistic.
Then, when she did not answer since it was hardly a question, he finally closed the files and looked up. Now his eyes narrowed at her, appearing surprised to see her.
"I thought I told you to get a dress." His brows raised at her, scrutinizing her from head to foot as if she was the document he was examining earlier.
"Then, I instructed specifically to give you a makeover or whatever they call it to make you more beautiful." The Count looked confused, seeing that nothing had changed in her appearance.
"First, I refused to spend your money on me. Your grandson is already paying me more than enough. Besides, what I am wearing will be good enough for a dinner party." She concluded, not allowing him to dictate the clothes she had to wear.
Moreover, she still could not get over the amount written on those pieces of cardboard. Honestly, one pair of that dress was more than she earned in a month, some even several months.
"But you can't wear that tonight." He insisted as he leaned on his chair and studied her again.
"Of course, I can. It is just a dinner party." She reasoned to the Count, not allowing him to persuade her to change her mind. It was not like they were attending a ball.
"I will be in the kitchen. Where do you want your afternoon tea?" She asked, changing the topic. She remembered that he usually took his tea at this time according to her instructions.
"Put it on the balcony. I like to breathe some fresh air." Count Julius answered, finally dismissing her.
Somehow, she felt relieved that he did not make a fuss about the idea of dressing her up. If she was being honest, she liked the dress presented to her. But the price was just too much.
As she walked out of the room, she heard the Count talking with someone on his phone. "I need you to implement plan B." He ordered before he placed the phone down on the polished surface. Then, she continued to exit the room.
She had no idea who he called or what it meant, but she had the odd feeling it was about her. What was the Count planning to do to her now?
At least he did not ask her to return to the shop and get a new dress.
But as she served the tea on the balcony, the bell rang inside the room. She wondered if the Count had any visitors, but she remembered nothing written on his schedule. It must be room service, thinking nothing much of it.
"What is this?" She was shocked to see many clothes as she opened the door, hanging on a portable rack, just waiting outside.
"Sir Julius ordered us to deliver these clothes for Ms. Richmond." The man pushing the rack said, but before she could protest, the Count in question spoke behind her, walking with his cane slowly toward her.
"Please, bring it inside." The Count told the woman. Then a man pushed the stock of clothes into the living room.
But that was not all, as another batch of people entered carrying boxes and things she would assume to be shoes and accessories based on their appearance.
"Sir, what is the meaning of all this?" She had no doubt this time that this was what Plan B was.
She could only conclude that all these clothes were not for the Count since it was entirely female clothing. And she was the only female around. It would seem the Count was not giving up without a fight as she had thought.
Now, she could only stare, both in amazement and apprehension, at the buzz inside the living room area. And it was all because of her.
"As I said, you can't go to this party wearing that. Either you wear one of these gowns, or we don't attend the party." The Count suggested, which meant he was putting all the burden on her.
He would be missing an important event just because of her. It was all because she refused to wear one of these stunning and elegant dresses.
Could she get fired for refusing him?
But more like, could she take it in her conscience to disappoint this man, who was looking at her with pleading eyes?