Ava woke up with a knot in her chest. Today was the day she got engaged.
She remembered it all as though it had happened yesterday.
Mark had sent over some off-the-rack dress, two sizes too big, like she was an afterthought.
She had spent the whole night pressed into a corner with Emily, sipping champagne.
Meanwhile, Mark basked in the spotlight, laughing and charming the guests, his hand lingering far too long on Celine Davenport, the glamorous daughter of one of his father's business partners.
Celine sparkled that night dressed in designer wear, every inch the untouchable socialite. While Ava was nothing but a shadow at her own engagement.
She got up and opened her wardrobe. Same old dresses, same old story. No taste, no style.
"Well," she muttered, "it's time I went shopping."
"Did I hear shopping?" Emily's groggy voice floated from the bed as she cracked one eye open.
She smirked, glancing over her shoulder. "You heard right. Somebody's gotta rescue me from this fashion graveyard."
Emily yawned and stretched, her hair a wild halo around her face. "You? Shopping? That's rich. Last time you went shopping you came home with three pairs of the same black jeans."
Ava shrugged, reaching for her phone. "Consistency is a lifestyle. But today, I'm in the mood for reinvention."
Emily sat up now, suddenly more awake. "Reinvention?"
"Emy, crack out the credit card cos I am changing my wardrobe."
"Ahhhhh!" Emily squealed, throwing her hands and legs in the air like a kid at Christmas.
"This is it. This is the moment I have been waiting for. My best friend is finally stepping into her main-character era," she declared.
Ava laughed at her silliness. Well if she was going to make any changes she might as well start with herself. Turning she caught sight of her face in the mirror and frowned. Her hair was dry and limp.
"I think I might need a makeover," she murmured, half a joke, half a cry for help.
Emily gasped like she'd just heard a royal decree. "Finally!"
She got out of bed, spinning Ava around with dramatic flair. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that? You, my darling, are officially under my command. Hair, clothes, nails, maybe even a splash of danger."
Ava laughed, shaking her head. "A splash of what?"
But Emily wasn't listening, she was already halfway dressed and rummaging for her purse like a woman on a mission.
"Wait, we haven't had any breakfast yet?" Ava called after her.
"We will grab some coffee at the shop. "
Ava slipped her feet into her scuffed boots and grabbed her bag.
....
They walked into the new café on the Seventh. The place was buzzing, but not packed. Ava felt uneasy the second she stepped inside. She already knew in a couple of months, this spot would be the talk of town for all the wrong reasons.
For a moment, she thought about warning the owner about the impending trap. Then she let it go. No good ever came from sticking her nose where it didn't belong. They wouldn't believe her anyway.
The two girls slid into a booth by the window.
A strikingly handsome man walked up, his apron doing nothing to hide how good he looked. Ava's eyes lingered before she could stop herself.
While Emily rattled off their order, the waiter flashed her a smile that could melt brick walls.
Get a grip, Ava. You don't need a man in your life right now.
"I want a chocolate muffin, a caramel latte, and a raspberry scone." Emily told him.
The handsome waiter scribbled it all down, then turned to Ava. "And you, miss?"
"Black coffee and toast," Ava replied quietly.
"What?" Emily gasped, eyes wide. "That won't cut it! She's having what I'm having," she said firmly, pointing at the menu and then at Ava.
The waiter's grin widened, amusement flickering in his eyes. "A double order of indulgence, coming right up," he said, jotting it down again. He leaned slightly closer to Ava as he spoke, and she felt that familiar flutter in her chest.
"Get a grip, Ava," she muttered under her breath, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.
"No one goes simple at a cafe this good. You have to make a statement."
Ava rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "I don't want to make a statement. I'm fine being invisible."
Emily leaned across the table, lowering her voice. "Invisible? Honey, if that guy over there..." she nodded subtly at the handsome waiter stacking cups behind the counter, "...can make you blush this much, you're definitely not invisible."
Ava blinked, was she that obvious.
The waiter returned moments later, balancing a tray with precision. He set down their order with a playful bow.
"There you go," he said smoothly, "fuel for the brilliant miss and her beautiful friend."
Ava blushed even more. She didn't know why her heart skipped again when he smiled at her, but she decided not to overthink it.
A small laugh escaped Emily. "Thanks…" she told him then took a triumphant bite of her muffin. "Ahhh… this is the life," she sighed. "You're welcome, Ava. Reinvention starts with dessert first."
By mid-morning, Ava and Emily were outside a row of boutique shops. Ava squinted at the display windows, wondering if she could do this.
"Okay, first rule of reinvention," Emily said, adjusting her sunglasses, "never enter a store timidly. Walk in like you own it. Confidence, Ava. Confidence."
Ava laughed, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Inside there were racks of dresses, shoes, and handbags. Ava felt a rush of excitement mixed with intimidation. She ran her fingers over the fabrics, imagining herself in bold, polished outfits completely different from the drab, oversized clothes she used to wear.
"I want everything," Emily whispered dramatically, picking up a sequined top.
Ava chuckled, feeling a thrill she hadn't felt in years. "Let's at least be realistic," she said. But even as she said it, she was already eyeing a sleek leather jacket that screamed confidence.
The day had only just begun, and already Ava felt the first stirrings of the new version of herself.
Just as Ava reached for it, a familiar voice cut through the boutique.
"Fancy seeing you here, Ms Ava."
Ava froze, recognizing the voice before she even turned.
"Bertha?" she said, blinking in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
She had hired Bertha a month before she handed over the company's responsibility to Mark, because she felt she didn't know how to manage the company.
The young girl smiled softly, adjusting the store tag pinned to her blouse. "I work here now. I am a sales assistant."
Ava frowned. "But… why did you leave Montclair?"
"I didn't leave," she said quietly. "Mr. Vaughn fired me. Said they were restructuring. Next thing I knew, he'd hired another assistant. One… Celine, I think."
Ava's stomach tightened. Of course.