Page 18 of Awaken the Dragon
Seconds later the truck came to a stop. Ziva tapped on the outside of Theo’s window and he opened the door. He extended a hand to Shola and this time, instead of that electrifying jolt he’d felt on more than one occasion when they’d touched, there was a sluggish-like movement of the beast within, as if it were getting comfortable with the feel of her.
“I want a pair of sunglasses,” Shola said the moment she was outside the truck.
Theo and Ziva sent questioning gazes her way.
“What? All of you have them, so I am thinking there is something wrong with your sun here. If that is the case, I should have them too.”
Ziva smiled. “I like her,” she said and nodded toward the front door of the dress shop.
They were on a street cluttered with buildings of different heights. Even during the day, lights flashed from each one, either through the windows or on the outside as a sort of marker to their location. The dress shop had strips of white laced around its perimeter. Over the door were green lights in some sort of floral pattern. When Theo didn’t immediately follow Ziva, she turned back to look at him.
“Isla did a full security scan from the Tower. Once we’re inside, Reece and I will do another walk around,” she told him.
Theo continued over the sidewalk while Reece held the door open for them. Ziva went in first, Shola after her and Theo was next. But the pull of all his senses going on full alert stopped him. They weren’t alone out here and the beast wasn’t comfortable with the new arrival.
“I feel it too,” Reece told him. “I’ll check it out and report back pronto.”
Theo nodded. It wasn’t just a feeling anymore; the unwelcome presence appeared in streams of metallic sludge slithering along the street like serpents.
“Two gowns were commissioned. One for the ritual ceremony and another for the midnight reception.”
“Who has a reception at midnight?” Ziva asked.
Shola thought it was odd as well, but she was more entranced by the woman standing in the corner of the dressing room twirling one of two long sticks with spikes on the edge and connected by a silver chain. It was a weird thing for someone to have in a dress shop, and she figured the surly attendant was thinking the same.
“We received lots of input on the ritual ceremony gown. Someone from your family, I presume, as I cannot pronounce your names,” the attendant said.
The nonchalant tone used to mask the insult to her heritage had Shola going instantly still. This woman, who was an inch or so shorter than her with long silky black hair pulled over one shoulder and bottle glass–green eyes, definitely should not work with people with her attitude. She turned away from Shola to unzip a white bag.
“En-gah-rah,” Ziva said slowly. “How hard is that to figure out?”
The attendant spared Ziva a brief look, then quickly turned away.
“I figured this was an ethnic wedding. I love the color of this material and I’m basically cool with wearing colors instead of the traditional all white. But I would never wear a headpiece like this. It’s so bulky and looks heavy,” the attendant continued.
“It is called agele, and they are worn on many different occasions in my country,” Shola said in as level a tone as she could muster. “Perhaps a book could teach you the pronunciation of names as well as about a culture different from your own.”
Now, she was the recipient of the attendant’s quick dismissive look. As the woman continued taking the dress out of the bag, Shola looked over to see Ziva’s approving smile.
“Try this on and I’ll be right back,” the attendant said as she handed Shola the gown and left abruptly.
“Guess we ruffled her feathers.” Ziva stepped out of the corner and tossed one of the sticks over her shoulder so that the chain rested there and held them in place. “But hey, no worries. I’ll get you into this dress in no time.”
No time was about seven minutes as there were lots of buttons and snaps and then thegelehad to be adjusted correctly.
“Are weddings where you’re from a big deal?” Ziva asked.
“Yes,” Shola replied. She had been to many in her village but had not given much thought to when it would be her turn.
Still, she could not ignore how perfect this gown was for such an occasion. The bodice was strapless, and fitted perfectly with thousands of sparkling silver beads stitched all the way around. From her waist, the material flared out like a fan, more silver and diamond-like beadwork created a cascade of vines and leaves that melted into an ombré design with the deepest blue like an ocean at the bottom. Her mother had selected this color, she knew because her mother knew of Shola’s affinity for water.
“You make a beautiful bride,” Ziva said as she attempted to straighten the long train of the dress. “Wait, let’s go out here. There are walls of mirrors and you’ll be able to get the full effect.”
She didn’t need the dress to have any type of effect. It was beautiful, and if the situation were different, she would probably feel giddy with excitement or something like that. But that was not the case, and so the anxiousness building in her like a turbulent wave was what she felt instead. Grabbing the front of the dress, she eased out of the dressing room with Ziva holding the back. They walked around a corner until they were at the back of the store standing in front of a wall full of mirrors.
“Step up here,” Ziva told her.
There were so many versions of herself reflected in the glass, the gorgeous blues in the gown shimmering in every direction she turned. Stepping onto a circular platform, she could not stop staring at herself in the perfectly fitting gown while Ziva continued to fuss with the material. For a moment she closed her eyes and tried to convince herself this was real and that Ziva was a close friend helping her get ready for the biggest day of her life. Her heart bursting with love, she would walk down the aisle to a man who loved her in return. In those stolen seconds, there was happiness and promise filling her, a tender smile dancing on her lips. She put a hand to her stomach when a mysterious flutter began and jumped the moment she heard his voice.
