This is going to make me look shy!
And so Fleur changed her mind the last minute, and instead flipped her hair over her shoulder. It was one of those things she considered a classic B(old)&A(ssertive) move, but when she turned to face Pippa again, it was to see her friend looking at her like she had been possessed.
Pippa didn't know whether to laugh or do an intervention so she could have Fleur committed. "What was that?"
The shock on her friend's face was near comical, and Fleur had to hastily swallow back a laugh. "I'm not crazy, if that's what you're wondering."
"Then what was that?" To better emphasize her point, Pippa flipped her own strawberry blonde locks over her shoulder...and made a face right after because it had felt an awfully unnatural thing for her to do.
Realizing that the other woman would never let the matter go, Fleur took her phone out and sent her friend a text. She knew she was being paranoid, but she simply didn't want to risk having the wrong person learn about Operation Yuletide.
Pippa's jaw dropped after reading what her friend texted. "Are you crazy? You actually used a feasibility study to determine who you're going to—-"
Seeing that her friend was about to blurt out the forbidden M-word, Fleur hastily cut her off, saying, "—-hire as my personal stylist? Because that's all we're talking about here. My personal stylist." Fleur did another hair flip even as she shot her friend a warning glare. A secret, Pippa! Operation Yuletide is supposed to be a secret!
Pippa finally realized what she had almost let slip when she saw the other guests on their table trying to not-so-subtly listen in to their conversation. Oops. She cleared her throat and tried to salvage the situation the best way she could. "Sorry. I'm just, um, surprised at your, er...selection process? I think you need to be more...careful," Pippa ended lamely.
Fleur was torn between face-palming herself and strangling her friend. Their conversation had officially achieved crazy levels of shallowness, and she could only imagine the avalanche of memes and tweets that was sure to follow if any of their eavesdropping so-called friends chose to spill the beans.
"Can we talk about this another time?" Fleur bargained.
"We don't have to if you don't want to," Pippa clarified. "I just want you to..."
Fleur flashed a sweet smile. "Be more careful?"
Pippa made a face. So she was being redundant. Fine. But she still had a point to make, which was...
"I just want you to consider your gut feel."
Meaning love, Fleur thought with a wrinkle of her nose. Blissfully-married women like Pippa always wanted to share their happy-ever-afters, but what they also always seemed to forget was how not every girl could be so lucky.
"I know you mean well, but let's just say that when it comes to...personal stylists, I've come to realize that I'm at an age where I need to be sensible."
Pippa hadn't any trouble reading between the lines. What Fleur meant was that at thirty-three years old, her friend believed she had waited long enough for Cupid to find her a match and was now taking matters into her own hands.
However...
"Feasibility studies aren't enough," Pippa insisted. "This is your personal stylist we're talking about."
Fleur only shook her head. It was time to cut her losses. Love was clearly not in the cards for her, but that didn't mean she should simply embrace a life of spinsterhood. Her Mr. Right might not exist, but there was always Mr. Almost Right, which her feasibility studies strongly suggested could be none other than Philippe DeRose.
"Just please think this through one more time—-"
"I've thought of nothing else for months," Fleur answered honestly, "and I took everything in consideration, believe me. I know you're only looking out for me, Pip, but I've made up my mind."
That was exactly what Pippa was afraid of. Fleur was usually easygoing...until she made up her mind.
"Have it your way," Pippa said resignedly. "But at least promise me you'll ask for my help if you—-" Pippa stopped speaking at Fleur's calculating look. Bloody hell.
"Now that you've mentioned it..."
Pippa waited for Fleur to speak, but when her friend opted to text what she had to say, it was then Pippa realized just how serious the other woman was about Operation Yuletide.
People who didn't know Fleur would assume the other woman was charming but vapid...or haughty but soulless, depending on which fake persona the heiress wanted to adapt. Those closest to Fleur, however, knew that all of these pretenses were only meant to hide one thing: Fleur was that rare type of woman who could wear the skimpiest bikinis in public but faint at the prospect of flirting. Fleur was very much a prude where the opposite sex was concerned, but considering how much effort her friend was exerting for Operation Yuletide...