Tiffany was in her element. Surrounded by dresses of the latest fashion designed by renowned fashion houses, Tiffany felt like she was in a corner of heaven. She had always loved fashion, ever since she was a child, and shopping was one of life’s most enjoyable things to do, in her opinion. But dresses. Dresses were special. She loved wearing dresses and she loved dressing her dolls up in dresses so it was only natural for her to become a stylist and continue doing it in adulthood. It pleased her that her father had tasked her to dress up the bodyguard. Her father seldom gave her anything important to do so this was a responsibility she relished.

Taeyeon on the other hand, looked as though she had been asked to step into a torture chamber. In fact, a torture chamber would probably have been less painful for her, judging from the way the bodyguard walked to the boutique. She could have rivalled the speed of a slug on a sleeping pill and she looked poised to run away at the drop of a hat.

“I know just the dress for someone short like you,” said Tiffany, eager to get the bodyguard into the boutique. “Come on.”

The staff inside gave her a friendly smile as she entered but cast strange looks at the bodyguard behind her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Hwang. What are you looking for today?”

“I’d like to have a look at the gowns and cocktail dresses. Black tie optional.”

“Just for you?”

“No, the two of us.”

“Certainly, Miss Hwang. This way, please.”

Tiffany turned back and caught sight of the bodyguard’s stoic yet pained expression and suppressed the urge to laugh. The sales attendant led them to an inner room lined with dresses hung on the racks along the perimeter. This was where the most expensive dresses were, hailing from top fashion houses from all over the world. Tiffany stood in the middle and inhaled deeply. Oh yea, this was invigorating.

“Taeyeon, do you have any preferences? Material? Cut? Colour? Length?”

The bodyguard lifted her eyes from the ground and met hers. “Is there anything comfortable?”

Tiffany raised a brow. In all her years as a stylist, no one has ever stated comfort as their only preference. But just looking at the bodyguard made her realise how true this was for the woman. She was often in a baggy top and loose-fitting sweatpants on her off days and in ordinary office wear with pants on her work days with Tiffany at studio. When she didn’t have to follow Tiffany to the studio, she would be decked out in casual shorts and plaid shirts or hooded tops, even though it was a work day for her. And her footwear of choice was always a pair of sneakers or running shoes.

In the bodyguard’s defence, her wardrobe choices definitely allowed her more room for running and moving about more easily. This was probably related to the nature of her work. And with the kind of stealthy protection the bodyguard seemed to be into, dressing the way she did would allow her to blend into the crowd easily. But not when it came to this job assignment. Not when she had to attend a black tie optional gala.

“Comfort isn’t a top priority when it comes to black tie optional,” she replied after a pause.

“I need something I can run in.”

Tiffany bent over and laughed. The image of the bodyguard running in a gown and heels was too funny to reel in. “Oh my God, Taeyeon. “Why would you need to run at the gala?”

“We have to be prepared to run at any time.”

“This can’t be your first gala bodyguard job, can it?”

The bodyguard shook her head with a frown. “I’ve done security work at galas before but we wore black and white suits and patrolled the perimeter. I didn’t have to pose as the guest’s friend.”

Tiffany stopped laughing, not liking the bodyguard said. “Are you saying we’re not friends?”

The bodyguard stared at her. “Are we?”

“After all the breakfasts and dinners and talks and chilling together, you’re telling me we’re not even friends? What must a person do with beco