"Oh, I'm so happy to see you, honey," Kiara said as she hugged Cassandra tightly.
"How can you not be? You were out wining and dining with Jordan Powell without me," Cass replied with a pout.
"Sorry, Cass. You know it's rude to keep a client waiting—even for you. How are you feeling now?" Kiara asked as they walked toward her office.
Cassandra, Kiara's PA at Royal K&Q, had been sick for a week.
"I've been better. But I know I'll feel much better after speaking to Jordan Powell." She smirked when Kiara nodded. "Shit! It was my doctor's fault. He told me to rest the entire day."
"That's good. I need you hale and hearty. Work's been tedious without you," Kiara said with a small smile.
"Awwn. Then let's get right to it." Cass's tone shifted from playful to brisk as she powered on her tablet. "You have a meeting with the mayor's wife about her birthday gown."
Kiara groaned. "That woman is as indecisive as a three-year-old. Can we skip to the important part?"
Cass scrolled through. "Well… you also have a hysterical bride. Her dress turned out looking exactly like her late aunt's, and now she doesn't want it."
"Now you're talking. Lead the way," Kiara said.
Cass guided her into one of the fitting rooms. The space was bright and elegant, with gowns lined neatly on racks. The bride sat on a raised platform in front of a wide mirror, her beautiful white ball gown making her look every inch a princess. But her face told another story—makeup streaked, tears pouring, her mother's attempts at comfort failing.
Hysterical was the only word for her.
Kiara braced herself and stepped forward. "Excuse me, ma'am," she said gently to the mother, who stepped aside.
Kiara crouched slightly, taking the bride's trembling hands. "Hello, dear. I'm Kay. May I know your name?"
"I'm Mary Jane, but you can call me MJ. Can I call you Kay?" she asked through her sobs.
"Of course, honey. You look absolutely splendid in this dress. Why don't you want it?" Kiara asked, handing her a tissue.
MJ dabbed at her swollen eyes and blew her nose. "I chose it myself, but… I hadn't seen my aunt's wedding pictures then. Now, I can't stop thinking about her."
"Her aunt died on her wedding day. They were very close," her mother added softly.
Kiara's heart tightened. "Then you are justified, my darling. But are you sure you don't want this dress? It might be a sweet reminder of her."
MJ shook her head firmly. "No. It would be a bad reminder… and maybe bad luck too."
"Okay. Let me draw you something new," Kiara said gently.
Cass quickly handed her a sketchpad and pencil. Kiara studied MJ's figure, her skin tone, her posture—then her hand moved swiftly across the page. Within minutes, she had outlined a fresh design. Cass passed her the laptop, and Kiara transformed the sketch into a computerized version.
When MJ saw it, her eyes widened. "Oh my gosh!" she gasped, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. "This is… amazing."
Even her mother nodded in approval.
"Can I really get this?" MJ asked, her voice trembling with hope.
"Of course. It will be ready by next week," Kiara said with confidence.
"In that short time? Will there be extra charges? And the rejected dress… do we still pay for it?" her mother asked, clearly worried.
"No extra cost, ma'am. Consider it taken care of." Kiara turned back to MJ. "Your wedding is one of the most important days of your life. A memory you should cherish forever. Any mistake is costly. This day should be done once—with the right person, and all the perfect things. You deserve nothing less than happiness."
MJ's lips trembled. She leaned forward and hugged Kiara. "Thank you so much."
"Don't thank me, honey. Thank your mother. Not every bride has a mom willing to go this far for her happiness. You're one of the lucky ones."
MJ hugged her mother, who smiled through her own tears. "Thank you, Ms. Kay. We really appreciate you."
Kiara smiled softly. "It's alright. I'll see you both later, okay?"
As she stepped out, she quickly brushed away the single tear that betrayed her composure.
"You're a complete professional," Cass whispered, awe in her tone. "But it almost felt like you were talking from experience."
Kiara only shrugged, though her silence said more than she wanted. No one knew about her past—and she intended to keep it that way.
Her phone vibrated. Caller ID: JoJo.
"Hello, Kay! How are you?"
"I'm good. You?"
"Managing, as always. So, guess what?" JoJo's voice brimmed with excitement.
"What?" Kiara asked flatly, knowing JoJo would spill anyway.
"Do you know Jordan Powell?"
Kiara's jaw tightened. That name again.
"Yeah. So?" she muttered, trying not to sound annoyed.
"Great. Well, he's in trouble—and he needs our help. You in?"