Skip to content Changing sleeves.
Changing how she thought we should look.
Then I heard Clara scream from somewhere outside.
“Those are mine!”
I rushed out of the restroom.
The private dining room had erupted into chaos.
A server hurried toward the entrance.
Beside the wall was a rolling clothing rack holding three garment bags.
Standing beside it was a woman I didn’t recognize, dressed in a sleek black suit with a boutique badge clipped near her shoulder.
Apparently, Clara had arranged for several women’s dresses to be delivered directly to the restaurant for final fittings before the family photographs.
Simon stood nearby.
Dave looked deeply uncomfortable.
Clara had one hand tightly wrapped around the handle of a garment bag.
The boutique employee spoke calmly.
“Ma’am, please release the garment.”
“I paid for these dresses!”
“You paid deposits.”
“Don’t play games with me.”
Dave frowned.
“Clara, let the woman do her job.”
Clara spun toward him.
“This is our property!”
The boutique coordinator shook her head.
“No. The garments remain boutique property until the clients accept them and the remaining balances are paid.”
Then she added,
“You also disputed the remaining charges after demanding that we deliver the dresses here tonight.”
Dave stared at his wife.
“You did what?”
Clara hesitated.
“There were problems with the orders.”
“Problems you requested,” the woman replied. “We have records of every size change and alteration authorized by you.”