The Seamstress Of New Orleans の小説・ストーリー

But as for me, I'll do what I need to do until I'm satisfied with what I see. After a week of preparation, before I went out of my car wearing the black with golden, gliterry sequins gown, I stared at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a red lipstick and my make-up blends appropriately from my skin. My mission is still the same. To break Tessa's heart, ruin William's reputation, and pull the Mendozas down. This time, they will meet the more daring, seductive, and wise Vienna Alonzo.

Some of the waitresses flirted with the customers. Roxanne's eyes scanned the clubhouse for Madam Loo. She soon saw the lady sashaying towards her. Madam Loo wore her silky black hair in spring curls and was wearing a leopard print gown that had slit up to her thighs. The lady was voluptuous and had very bold makeup going on. "Good evening, Madam Loo." Roxanne greeted the lady. Madam Loo looked at her dressing, obviously disgusted by her appearance. "You are right on time, Roxanne. Come I'll take you to go get dressed." Madam Loo led her down to the dressing area. Other girls were getting dressed up.

I said as tears rolled down my face. “Don't cry Clara….we can be lucky and sold to a nice master.” She said. The ladies who came into the room helped us out of our clothes and wore us something so revealing and eye-catching like we were tramps. “Please help us.” I pleaded to them but they kept mute and started doing our makeup. Aurora seemed to have accepted her fate but as for me, I still had the tiniest glimpse of hope that I could still get out of this situation.

It was easier for her to do that though since Dominic had the head security guard check the seamstress’s things when she arrived. The seamstress arrived there early after breakfast to make clothing for me had been hired by Dominic. He had everything set up in his office, watching me the whole time as I was measured and fitted from head to toe. It didn’t pass my attention that some of the color samples held against my skin were satins and laces in various shades of white.

I watched her walk in front of us, a little sway in her steps. " I think she likes you" I joked. He hummed, not staring at me, his phone somehow carrying more excitement than I was. "Everyone likes me chica" he said. Maybe I was just being insecure because I just made the biggest move on a man that I have never made on anyone and this man turned out to be my step brother, but I hated how nonchalant his reply felt. " We have new arrivals from Paris, made from the finest materials and hand sewn by lady Therese the fashion wizard herself. Each dress is available in just two piece and if you want something that no one else has, I have the vidou rouge that she designed, fine material too."

The corner of her mouth curved into a smile, showing off her gorgeous white teeth. It was like she had no flaws, and I was suddenly feeling less than. “I’m Jewel,” she said, her voice velvety. “The seamstress.” “It’s an honor to meet you.” I curtsy to her, and she lets out a low chuckle. “No need for formalities. I’m only here to do a job, and then I’ll be out of your hair,” she told me. “A dress had already been picked out for you. I’m just here to make sure it fits right and make any necessary alterations.”

Apparently, the seamstress was the best in town and as a result, came from a long distance making me have to wait for her. I didn't mind though as I got to my room, sat by the dresser, and began to mentally anticipate her arrival. I passed the time waiting for her to toy with my hair. I loosened it from the French braids they were bonded in, combed it, and styled it all over again, repeating the routine a couple of times. By the time I was done trying to invent a new hairstyle, I immediately heard a knock on my door. "Come in." The door gave a squeaking sound as Sisu opened it to reveal her face. As usual, she came with her warm smile and gave me a light bow.

I would frame a copy of my degree so that she can hang it up on her wall and be reminded of her good works, ' Christine thought to herself. After rubbing her skin with a moisturizer, she donned her favorite nightie– a combo of her faded Louis Vuitton shirt which was a hand-me-down from Ruth along with her blue booty shorts that had stood the test of time. Unlike Ruth, she did not change her clothes after just one wear. She wore hers till they were practically unwearable. It was a habit that had unconsciously been imbibed in her since her orphanage days when your clothes were still good to wear no matter how old they were as long as they still covered your body.

Today is such a beautiful day in Salem, I can already tell by the early dawn sun shining through my window. What does today have in store for me? Work! I work at The Jonathan Corwin House which is known locally as The Witch House. It's famous as the original owner of the same namesake was one of the judges who presided over the notorious trials and it's now a museum and I'm lucky enough to run it. What's even better is, I live opposite so it's simply a short walk to work every day.

The seamstress’s carriage rolled through the gates of the Crescent Moon Pack under the early glow of the morning sun. Guards bowed low in greeting, their movements measured, respectful. The seamstress nodded through her veil, concealing her expression as her driver halted the carriage at the familiar courtyard. Her driver climbed down and began unloading the boxes one by one onto the long wooden table that had been prepared for her. This table was always hers, her small kingdom of fabrics and threads. She set to work at once, unfolding the gowns with steady hands, arranging them in neat, elegant rows.