'Dress to Impress' (Ruby Version)

[Alternate Text: An image of organized ties in multiple, square cubbies to create an almost tile-like background of rolled silk; there are an array of colors. 'Dress to Impress' acts as the title in a strong font, while 'Ruby' is beneath it in elegant script.]

"…Is it to your liking, Miss Verner?"

Ruby continues to scrutinize the suit jacket nestled within a garment bag. She runs the tips of her fingers along one of its pressed lapels, still feeling a faint warmth left from the steaming process that the dry cleaner promises to perform by hand. Each seam, panel of fabric, and accent line of detailing lays exactly as it should to convey a perfectly put together look; it's runway ready.

She only wants the very best for today.

A limited edition, Armani suit is superlative in most every regard, and yet, Ruby is searching for a flaw while lingering in the shop. Mr. Roy's anxious fidgeting alludes to how this extended visit is going over; the Verners are one of his most valuable clients. "It is brilliant as always," she distractedly reassures the man. "My ties?"

"Oh, right! I still need to sort them, one second."

Organizing the medley of fabric will definitely take longer than a single second, but she can respect how Mr. Roy tries to create a color gradient or rainbow out of the silken strips. It's thoughtful, even if Ruby eventually redoes the order for her closet. She further unzips the garment bag once done with her assessment, slipping on the tailored suit jacket with practiced ease to check just how wrinkle-resistant it truly is.

While time, distance, and circumstances are all beyond her control, this outfit certainly isn't, but would a former, childhood rival care about such things? It's about making an impression when arriving at galas; this isn't that. She is unsure how to categorize it aside from the fact that she cleared most of her morning schedule to free up time for a lengthy drive around town.

It's a little pathetic, really…

What if you don't care to remember her?

"Is there a full length mirror anywhere?" Ruby poses the question a touch sharply, growing irritated at no one except herself. Mr. Roy isn't back yet, which leaves a far less pleasant alternative. She settles on fastening a tasteful amount of buttons before turning to fix the dry cleaner's son with a pointed look; he is too focused on a handheld game. "Kyle?" The teenager pops in an earbud with blatant disregard, fishing out the other end from his pocket while Ruby simply stares him down. "I wouldn't."

Her warning is heeded, though she could have done without the eye roll and muttered curse.

"You look the exact same; it's fifty shades of black as usual. Why's it matter?"

"A long overdue meeting," Ruby crisply answers with the hint of a cool smile. "Now, the mirror?" She glances at where Kyle gestures, spotting a sliver of the reflective glass that is hidden behind a clothing rack. She moves it to once again perform a self-inspection that is more intensive than the typical one before leaving her room. No stray hairs, strings, or lint would be a much easier checklist than looking for anything flawed or unsatisfactory; it's too open-ended and can invite negative thoughts.

But it's safer to be your own worst critic.

Ruby adopts a dazzling smile that most of Fernweh's citizens would eat up, but will it stay intact when faced with you? Your absence isn't something she ever smiled over. Her eyes flick away from her routine expression, averting to the clock on the wall when her pager beeps out a noisy reminder that this free time is quite limited.

"Miss Verner? I promise I have them now."

"Thank you," Ruby replies, stepping away from the mirror to collect her ties. She politely nods at Mr. Roy's farewell about seeing her again next week; they have a long-standing order. Her sunglasses are slipped on before she bothers to retrieve her car keys, marginally relaxing when they are in place and she is once again in Angelique.

Always riding with the convertible's top down doesn't afford a great sense of privacy, but it's her space. Circling the town square for a third time would attract attention, which leaves her with cruising around elsewhere until time runs out. Ruby wants to see you for herself without a pre-planned meeting or advanced notice that would only mask true reactions.

She needs to see that realization—that honest recognition—if there is any to be had. It has been years, but your return dredges up events from around the time of your departure that should stay in the past. Ruby almost tried to leave you there as well, but here she is looking.

Searching for something best left forgotten…

…A rival because friends were too hard for her.

A vibrant blot of orange draws her attention away from the frozen stoplight she is currently suffering through, even though there are hardly any cars out. That's a bold choice. She observes the person in the hoodie, noting how the few citizens going about their day seem to be doing the same thing in a much more obvious way. It takes a second for her to realize what could merit attention from Fernweh's community.

A visitor…?

The half-formed thought dissipates when she sees that the sentient orange juice box isn't alone.

It's you.

It must be.

The light charitably changes to green just as the front end of the convertible edges over the line. She treats the empty parallel parking spaces as an extra lane, modulating her curiosity into a charm that would turn most heads, except yours isn't. "…Hey Stranger!"

When you look at Ruby, she can't bring herself to perform an assessment or to gauge what that expression means; instead, she smiles. "You have kept me waiting." There is more truth to that than she would like to admit. "I was wondering when I would finally run into you, [Surname]."