Skinny Dipping (9 page)

Someone saw her drowned in the pool, and she was luckily resuscitated and taken to hospital. Her body healed, but the memory stayed, etched. She never got in the water again.

“Your hotty instructor should help reduce your fears, Soph. You’ve got a one-track mind when you want. You’ll do this and be fine. ”

“This is a trauma. Not just a swimming lesson.”

Carol looked at Sophie sceptically. “You do have a one-track mind. You can do this. So many people in this world can swim. Besides, why do you think we’re out looking for a swimsuit when there’s no stock left?”

Sophie blushed and directed her eyes to the women’s clothing racks. “So, what’s the story with Matthew, is he single?” Carol inquired as they wandered through the women’s racks. “You never mentioned to me after the gala what his story was.”

Sophie ran her hand over a coat as they wandered past racks of winter garments. “Matthew Silver is a client of mine and that’s all. There’s a client and consultant professional relationship, and we shouldn’t even try to go there. Not that he’s remotely interested.” Sophie felt her cheeks begin to heat.

“He seems really nice, being worried about your future safety and everything.”

“I don’t know if he’s worried about me. Someone he loved died in the water, so I think he’s trying to save the world from drowning. ”

“He’s a client of yours and now, you’re a client of his. How the tables have turned,” Carol said raising her eyebrow at Sophie. “How will you handle that?”

Sophie frowned. “Handle what? Matthew telling me his advertising ideas….”

“Matthew telling you what to do in the water?”

“Oh but he won’t. He said all I had to do was get in the water to start with. Then we’ll see.”

Carol howled. “I knew it. You’re a complete control freak.”

“I’m not.”

Carol raised her eyebrows. “You’re going to have to let him do his thing so you don’t drown. Take his advice. Let him help you. I know me coming here with you, is a big deal for you, Miss Independent.”

Sophie scowled. “I’m a capable woman. I can do most things on my own and I don’t need help – most of the time.” She swivelled abruptly, picking up a scarf and draping it around her neck, trying to hide her expression as she did so.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a woman with orange wrinkled skin, fake tan, holding a glittering piece of lycra. A swimsuit. Sophie squealed in delight and ran over to the rack. The woman flattened a floral print full piece swimsuit against her body.

The rack was bursting with clearance summer items, sarongs, towels and bikinis. Sophie eyed a bikini and picked it up. She touched the flimsy material and shuddered. She might as well wear her underwear in the pool. She would be practically naked in a bikini. But bikini’s were fashionable, and Sophie liked to make an impact with clothing.

She looked down at her short legs, hoping they were in proportion. Everyone would notice her knobbly knees. They would stick out just below her jiggly thighs, although now with her super knowledge of squats and thigh lifts, she could at least get into shape. She ran her hands through her hair, what a nightmare, Matthew Silver seeing her creamy white thighs that hadn’t seen light in years. She would probably blind people with the whiteness of her body. Embarrassing. No one she worked with got to see that.

“Now since you’re a dancer and you know everything about leotards and skimpy things. I need your help. I need to make my legs look longer.”

“Let’s think this through logically.”

“Should I get something high cut?”

“It’s a swimming lesson not a hot bod contest. Maybe something practical, that you’ll feel comfortable in? Have you got a wax yet?”

Sophie felt her cheeks go hot as the other shopper’s head darted up and her eyes settled on both of them. “Of course.”
No.
Carol didn’t need to know about the state of her pubes that was for sure. Some things just didn’t need to be said or spoken about. Besides, there was no real reason to get a wax since the split with Derek. Although, she mentally decided she better get a Brazilian, didn’t need any hair sticking out in the wrong places and she shouldn’t give up on the possibility of getting back together with Derek. He wouldn’t be overly excited if she looked like an orang-utan down there.

“Should I get a spray tan, too? Would that help my wobbly bits look better?” she said and faced the rack of swimsuits. “Maybe something padded will look good? Black’s slimming.”

Carol scowled at Sophie. “Let’s just focus.” She pulled a red swimsuit from the rack and Sophie wrinkled her nose.

“It’s a once piece,” Sophie commented, she swore she read something on Oprah about getting different colours to emphasise the good parts of your body, she could do that with two pieces.

“It’s a swimming lesson and it’s practical.”

“It’s red. I’m not sure whether red goes well with my hair?” Sophie’s eyes fell onto a black number and she reached for it. “Now black is slimming.” Her fingers tightened onto the garment to show it to Carol, but she felt a pull in the opposite direction.

Sophie’s eyes narrowed. The other woman held the bottom piece of the swimsuit. The woman tugged at the garment but Sophie’s grip tightened. “I’ve got this, and you’ve already got three pieces tucked under your arm,” Sophie said, trying to sound reasonable.

“I don’t have black,” the woman said through clenched teeth. “Besides, you’re too fat to wear a size eight.”

Sophie’s heart constricted at the words, and her palms felt suddenly sweaty. “I’m not fat. I’m a size eight, a relatively normal size.”

The woman let out a large cackle, and her eyes scanned haughtily over Sophie’s frame. “Whatever you think.” How the hell did she know what size she was? It wasn’t as if she was the person who did her washing. Okay, so she was pushing size eight, more of a size ten, but that was Sophie’s decision. She believed that once you bought the larger size, you gave up, and Sophie did not give up. Not on anything.

“Let’s work this out rationally. Flip a coin or something or we’ll tear it,” Sophie suggested, trying to use words, charm to resolve the situation.

The woman shrugged. “Sure,” she said. Sophie’s eye darted at Carol and then back at the woman and she felt her grip relax. The fabric was yanked out of her fingertips. The woman snatched the swimsuit away.

“In your dreams darling,” the woman snarled holding her prize. “I told you it was mine.” She dashed through the racks.

“Bitch,” Sophie breathed, wanting desperately to chase after the woman running toward the counter. A security guard stood by watching the scene. Sophie threw her hands up in the air, hating the feeling of being taken. Carol reached over and rubbed Sophie’s shoulder.

“Did you see that?” Sophie gasped.

“Remember, you’re the more mature person. The bigger person and we can get you something else online but you’re just getting something for your first lesson and not for eternity.”

Sophie gulped. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

“It’s all they have in a one piece that will fit you. For the record, you look like a size eight to me.” Carol lifted up a swimsuit.

Sophie felt her eyes smarting. “It’s not black. It’s bright, bloody red. I don’t want to take these bloody swimming lessons.”

“I know darling. Your boss though, he didn’t really give you a choice.”

“If I do this, I suspect he won’t fire me or make me redundant. Can you believe it? Swim for my supper.”

“Keep your chin up.”

“And, what law says I can’t get into shopping wars?”

“It’s a temporary solution,” Carol continued.

Sophie snatched the swimsuit from Carol. “Okay, this will do.”

Sophie stopped with a gasp. She saw someone familiar.

“Sophie?” Carol responded.

Sophie felt the colour drain from her face, her mind whirring into action. She manoeuvred through the racks, weaving through them to get a closer look. The man appeared to be the same height and the same slim build. He stepped onto the escalators, descending down to the next level. She could only see his back, his dark hair – looking like none other than Derek.

She took a deep breath. Sophie ran a hand through her hair. They hadn’t spoken since she moved out, a few days ago.

She headed trance-like to the escalator, her feet jumping on. She stood five people behind the black head and tried to compose her thoughts as they descended. She opened and closed her mouth, then firmly shut her mouth. She didn’t dare call out.

“Sophie,” Carol hissed on the escalator step behind her.

She pointed to the man walking off the bottom and disappearing into the perfume section. By the time Sophie reached the ground floor, Derek stood at a perfume counter. “Derek’s here. Should I say hi…or should I pretend to run into him? I haven’t seen him since we broke up – which was to be honest only a few days ago.”

Carol took the swimsuit from Sophie. “Go on; you don’t want to look like a stalker, though.”

“If I run into him, I won’t have to call him. I can just talk to him. See what happens, if he misses me.”
If he wants me back.
That would mean no more Friday nights alone.

Derek spoke to the assistant and Sophie froze on the spot, wondering her next move. “It’s the Chanel counter,” Sophie said. A hand came to her chest, a smile to her lips. Holy hell. She loved Chanel. Her favourite. This was good news. The best news she’d heard all week. Chanel was the first perfume Derek ever gave her

“He looks good.” He was cute with his taut jaw line, perfect nose and enquiring eyes. Derek paid for the perfume and slipped the package in his suit pocket. Sophie hovered by the makeup counter, picking up a lip gloss, gazing at him. Should she just let him give her the Chanel, pretend she didn’t know he wanted to get back together. Or, face the music, see him. The sooner she got back together with him, the better, she supposed.

“Go on, speak to him,” Carol urged.

She brushed down her skirt, and lifted her head high. “Wish me luck.”

A broad smile spread across his face, the one where his lips twitched and moved into a perfect smile. She swallowed lowering her lashes, not wanting to get lost looking into his handsome face, how she loved his coal eyes. Her chest tightened, constricted and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She lifted her lashes, took a step forward.

“Derek,” she said, giving him a slight wave.

He looked up, his eyes growing wide like a deer caught in the headlights when he saw her. He froze. “What are you doing here?” he said.

“Just shopping.”

“Since when aren’t you working on the weekend?”

She frowned. “I don’t work all the time.”

He laughed bitterly. “Yeah, you only work when I want to see you; typical.”

She swallowed. “Did you get my emails?”

“Maybe,” he said. A woman waltzed up next to him.

Sophie froze, her eyes narrowed at the girl.

“Hello,” the blonde said, beautiful, tall and she stood comfortably next to Derek. Sophie had never seen this girl in her life. Racking her brain – no, she wasn’t one of their mutual friends. Who was she?

Her gaze darted between Derek and the blonde. “Hello,” Sophie said, unable to think of anything witty or clever to say. Surely, this wasn’t his new girlfriend? Already? Had he been seeing someone on the side? Or was this simply a female friend?

“I’m Georgina. Nice to meet you.” She smiled down at Sophie from atop of her incredibly long legs. No wonder Derek liked her, she probably had wonderful, glorious thighs. Sophie didn’t have amazing thighs but she was definitely trying.

Sophie felt her breath quicken, a hand flying to her face. How was she going to remember a name like Georgina? But how could she forget it? She could be Derek’s new woman, and what if she was? Sophie could already hear herself cursing the name Georgina, and could feel herself screaming the name countless times in her sleep.

“Um..., hi, I’m Sophie,” she said tearing her gaze away from the girl’s beautiful face, her clear skin, her green eyes.

“Georgina.” The name rhymed with arena, ballerina. Carol was the ballerina, so if she used an image of a ballerina, she’d surely get confused. The girl wasn’t particularly memorable, other than of course, her awe-striking beauty. Hyena. Yes. What a great rhyming word, perfect with a disgusting, dirty, house-wrecking name like Georgina. Narrowing her eyes at her, Sophie couldn’t even match the word ‘hyena’ to any aspect of her physical appearance. Pity. Semolina. The image of the girl’s face mashed into a bowl filled with thick semolina was almost enough to make her smile. Almost.

“Well. It was very nice to see you,” Sophie continued, as both Derek and Georgina seemed stand awkwardly in front of her, both wearing odd expressions on their faces. “Gosh, I better go,” Sophie said, and she fled.

Her feet flew in the opposite direction, past Carol who stood with a lipstick tightly in her fingers. “Let’s get out of here,” she hissed as she passed her.

It had been days.
Days!
He’d gotten over her pretty quickly that was for sure. Or had he been cheating on her? Her chest constricted. He’d been cheating on her. There was no other explanation. You don’t just go shopping, and buy Chanel perfume for a new girlfriend. You buy Chanel for someone you know, someone you love.

Cheating. Cheating. Cheating. Cheating. Cheating. Cheating. Lying bastard.

Her pulse was racing, her breathing was fast.

“Is that a friend or his new squeeze? She’s f’ugly.”

“F’ugly,” Sophie agreed, feeling her heart beat quickly, knowing the girl had been drop dead beautiful.

“She’s just shopping with him, she could be anyone, a friend, anyone,” Carol murmured, although Sophie could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

Sophie dared a look over her shoulder, of course they were together. The pair remained huddled over the Chanel counter. Her favourite brand. The least Derek could do was go out with someone who was a little bit different than her?

“If he felt anything for me, he should have explained what was going on there.” But why did she deserve that right? They had broken up. She just thought he might care, might respect her enough, to explain, to try and reduce the pain throbbing in her chest.