So I’ve written a little bit more in my short story the past few days, and I decided to post an update. Unfortunately, I’m leaving you at another cliffhanger so I hope you can forgive me. I’m kind of at a point with this story where I hate it…..so we’ll see when the next installment is! Let me know if you have any feedback or thoughts 🙂
Grace felt like she was walking in a dream. The garage was huge, with ceilings at least 15 feet high. For as far as she could see, there were rows and rows of dresses. A sea of silks, satins and chiffons of every color you could imagine filled her vision. Bethany stepped daintily down from the step leading into the warehouse and gestured to Grace. She followed, eyes wide. She’d been expecting a lot of dresses, but this was definitely more dresses than she’d ever seen in one place.
“How many did you say you had again?”
“Four thousand.” Bethany replied, flipping her hair over one shoulder.
At lengths along the side of the room, particularly stunning dresses hung in large, well lit display cases. They stopped in front of a royal blue off the shoulder gown with a streaming peacock train and Grace couldn’t help but gape.
“This was one of the most expensive dresses in my collection.” Bethany beamed. “Imported straight from Paris.”
“It’s gorgeous.” The largest dress collection in the country was rapidly going from an abstract idea to a very concrete reality. Grace almost couldn’t breathe at the thought of how much money this all must have cost. Before entering the warehouse, Bethany had typed in a security code and done a face recognition, and looking around the high ceilinged room Grace could see security cameras poised at every corner. “How much effort have you put into the security on this place?”
“Oh, my husband did all that. No one’s ever tried to break in, but of course we had to take precautions. Some of these dresses are worth more than your house.”
They walked down the aisles and Grace brushed her hand over a few of the fabrics, amazed at their richness and quality. “And how often do you actually wear your dresses?” she asked.
“Pretty often. Being the wife of Mr Woods we always have some kind of event or ball to attend. The hardest part is choosing a gown to match the occasion.”
Grace nodded, but she was sure there were at least several hundred gowns in the room that had never been worn and probably never would be.
Half an hour later, they had emerged from the warehouse and Grace was frantically jotting down her final notes, preparing herself to spend the rest of the day writing her article. Standing in the sitting room again, she extended her hand to shake Bethany’s. “It was a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Woods. I appreciate you taking the time to interview.”
“Of course, I’m happy to…” Bethany trailed off, looking over Grace’s shoulder. “Hi honey!”
Grace turned around, and instantly felt her jaw dropping. Standing in the doorway, was a tall man, who was obviously the infamous ‘Mr. Woods’. He had dark hair combed back carefully from his forehead, a distinctive nose, and piercing grey eyes looking directly into hers with an expression she would have recognized anywhere she saw it. She watched his mouth form the shape of her name, a quizzical expression coming over his face that she knew mirrored her own. “Oh my gosh.” she said aloud. “Graham, is that really you?”
“Grace Archer.” he spoke wonderingly, the deep timbre of his voice causing a warm nostalgia to fill her soul. “How long has it been, eight years?”
Grace nodded, suddenly unable to speak, as he stepped forward and took her hand.