Styling Wellywood: A fashionable romantic comedy (Wellywood Series Book 2) Read Free Page A

of reminding me, she was married with a child by the time she was my age. What exactly I’d been doing with my time was simply a mystery to her, it would seem.
    “ Shame the fat American was married then.”
    “ I know. Such a shame. Speaking of married, how’s Darling Dave?”
    Dave is Morgan’s live-in boyfriend of some years. We call him Darling Dave because there really is no other word to describe him, and he’s head over heels in love with Morgs. She met him at the bank she used to work for and then one day some years back she decided he was the man for her and gave up her string of suitors for him and him alone.
    We didn’t quite understand it at the time because Dave was not her type at all. She went for wealthy, successful go-getters with expensive hobbies (because she could), and Dave was your archetypal accountant - reliable, prudent, sweet, but altogether a bit geeky and dull.
    Don’t get me wrong, geeky guys can have their appeal, but sadly for Dave he certainly didn’t fall into the ‘geeky but hot’ camp. He must have thought every day was Christmas Day when Morgan decided to go out with him, and they moved in together within about a month.
    “ Oh he’s great!” she responds a little too enthusiastically, making me wonder momentarily just how great he really is.
    “ He says to say ‘hi’. He’s got into a new hobby actually, which is really pretty embarrassing,” Morgan laughs as she sugars her coffee. “He’s really into Dungeons and Dragons. He gets dressed up in weird costumes and goes away for weekends to play it. Apparently it’s retro-geek cool these days. Or something like that. Anyway, I don’t get it, but he loves it.” She smiles, shaking her head.
    Dungeons and Dragons ? Could this guy be any more of a bad match for my gorgeous, intelligent and vivacious friend? But of course he’s her choice so I can’t say what I think.
    “ Dungeons and Dragons?” I reply. “Wow, that is embarrassing. I guess you’re right though, as long as he’s happy.”
    “ Right, let’s get down to it,” she exclaims.
    I think we’ re both relieved we've moved off shaky ground and onto something we’re both happy to discuss. Sadly there are no rules stating ‘thou shalt approve of one’s friend’s partner’, but it sure makes it a hell of a lot easier when you do.
    “ I’m so psyched about setting this thing up with you! We’re going to have such a great time!”
    “ I know! I have so many ideas!” I say excitedly.
    I’ d collected designers’ lookbooks and colour charts in London, and of course had my exposure to the fabulousness of London style – infinitely better than any Wellington designer can muster, I’m quite certain.
    Suddenly all those make over programmes on TV have taken on major significance for me.
    “ And of course I’ve done my evening classes and graduated with my diploma,” I add, proudly.
    “ Of course, I forgot you’d done that,” she replies. “What was it, the Michael Bolton School of Tragic Fashion or something? Where you learned to style to sad Nineties ballads and tease your frizzy perm?” She laughs hard at her joke.
    “ Oh ha ha,” I reply, slightly wounded. “No, it was really great and I learnt lots. And it was the Boulton School of Fashion, nothing to do with ballads and perms, thank you very much.”
    “ Well, you’re going to have to put that diploma of yours to good use as we’ve got a meeting with a new client tomorrow. She’s a referral from a woman I styled in Seatoun a few months back, and apparently she’s in major need of a revamp. She’s about forty or so. Got dumped for a younger woman a while ago. Apparently she wants to get out there and meet someone new but totally lacks the confidence.” She has a big grin on her face.  “I know, bread and butter, right?”
    It seems quite a lot of her clients find themselves in this predicament. Still if it’s good for business who am I to question it?
    I nod, lis tening