Page 57 of An Irresistible Force (Vancouver Vice)

She came over and put an arm around my shoulder. “Don’t feel that way. Your father loved debate, and neither Gregory nor I were an intellectual match for him. I’m quite sure that he baited you at times, just to get the conversation going.”

It was true that we had argued for years—usually he took the role of the unrepentant capitalist while I argued for the rights of the working class. But once I learned more about management, I realized what he had accomplished. Sure, he had inherited a family company, but he had expanded it exponentially. Many second and third generation heirs drove their legacies right into the ground. Look at what Uncle Thomas had done in only two years with the Vice.

My father seemed so strong. A wall that I could batter, but never break—impenetrable and invincible. Then he was taken from my life so abruptly. What I wouldn’t do for one last half-hour with my father—to tell him how much I respected him. To feel the rough wool of his sweater against my cheek as he hugged me and muttered, “Go get ’em, Kitten.”I love you, Daddy, and I miss you so much.

This had been one hell of a day.

My mother squeezed my shoulder. “You’re so like him—your stubbornness, your caring for others, and even your love of hockey. Don’t ever think that he was disappointed in you. He was always proud of you. Always.”

25

Home Delivery

Amanda

April Cho cameover five days before the gala. She assured me that she had gotten the perfect dress, but since things were so busy at work I hadn’t even been able to meet her for a fitting. April didn’t seem too concerned about this, saying we could get the dress hemmed right away if necessary.

When I let her in, her arms were overflowing with fat garment bags. I grabbed them from her.

“It doesn’t seem right that a pregnant woman is carrying all this stuff.”

“You know, being hugely pregnant has made shopping even easier. People find me chairs, offer to deliver things, and put me to the front of the line. They’re all afraid I’m going to pop out a baby at any moment, and they want to rush me out of their store before that happens.” She chortled.

We went up to my room, and April looked around. “Should I ask why you’re still living in a teenage dream of a bedroom?”

“It’s only temporary.” But I had been living here for three months already.

April insisted that I close my eyes while she put the dress on me. She clearly had a flair for the dramatic. She brushed my hair first and then placed me in front of the full-length mirror. “Now open them.”

I looked at myself. I looked gorgeous. The dress was a beautiful icy blue satin and fitted me perfectly. There was draping around the bust, and it had narrow shoulder straps. I turned around and there was a train in the back!

“Oh wow. I look like a princess,” I said happily.

“Yes. Regal. That is exactly how I see you.” She moved around me. “I would love to see you in white opera-length gloves too, but I’m not sure if you would feel comfortable.”

I kept twirling around. “It’s beautiful. I feel beautiful. But how did you get it to fit me so perfectly?”

“I had your measurements, so I got a few tucks taken in.” She had a smug smile, but she had earned it. “Okay, let’s try on the work clothes too.”

“Do we have to?” I kept looking at myself in the mirror, but I finally relented and took one of the suits.

I came out in a grey pantsuit. Although I already had a grey pantsuit, this one was completely different. The pants were wider, the jacket was long and more fitted at the waist, and there was a periwinkle blue silk top underneath.

I looked down at myself as I emerged from my bathroom. “What’s with all the blue?”

“It’s going to be your signature colour. When I saw how good it looked on you, I decided that right away.” April pulled out a piece of foam core. “Here is your inspiration board. Your new style in pictures.”

I took the board in my hands. There were pieces of fabric in the various shades of the cool blue I was wearing. There were some silhouette drawings of the “right” kinds of suits for me. Also, photos of Princess Kate and black-and-white photos of a beautiful blonde woman. “Who’s that?”

“It’s Grace Kelly, Princess Grace of Monaco. I know you don’t look exactly like her, but it’s your aura—this ladylike, cool, well-bred, strong woman. That’s you.”

“Me? Really?” I liked most of those adjectives, except maybe ladylike. “I guess sexy is not on that list.”

April laughed. “Why is it that nobody is ever happy with their own image? The best look is an extension of your real self, not what you think you should look like. If I put you into clothes that were overtly sexy—short skirts, low necklines—would you really be comfortable?”

I shook my head. But I didn’t want overtly sexy. All I wanted was a little dangerous instead of safe, prim, and proper.

“Is this still about the hockey player?” She adjusted the shoulders of the jacket and pinned the waist. “I’ll get this taken in for you. Look, does he ever flirt with you?”

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