Mending Us

Lucy Hart had always imagined success would arrive with noise and celebration. Fireworks bursting across the sky, champagne corks flying, the kind of moment where the world seemed to pause long enough for her to bask in the joy of the moment.

It did, but internally. And it's been three months.

Almost giddy with happiness, she did a vlog on it, showing her happiness as she took in the soft scent of fresh fabric and newly painted walls drifting through a boutique not much larger than the tiny apartment she had once lived in. It shimmered in the warm lights reflecting across carefully arranged displays and the steady hum of life moving through the mall outside.

She finished the video and squealed. This little store, every rack, every folded piece of clothing, every detail she had chosen herself, was hers and her best friend, Mala.

Racks of dresses lined the walls, carefully color-coordinated. Soft music hummed from hidden speakers. Decorative mirrors reflected the movement of customers trying on jackets, skirts, and statement pieces Lucy had personally selected.

Everything in the store carried their taste, their aesthetic, and their stubborn determination. Both at twenty-six, Lucy and Mala had built this place from scratch, pinching and saving every cent they could which became easier with their lives.

Mala, closing off her phone herself, stood behind the polished white counter of the store, Velvet Thread, watching customers browse the racks with curiosity and excitement, with the sole girl they had hired. The boutique sat in one of the busiest malls in Las Vegas, right between a cosmetics store and a luxury sneaker shop. Not bad placement for a small but thriving business.

Near closing time, Mala dismissed the sales girl, standing to admire the golden letters of the store name gleaming above the entrance, catching the bright mall lights. A customer was holding several bags in front of a mirror, admiring them and possibly figuring out which one she wanted.

Lucy tucked a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear, sizing up a customer who just walked in. She has a familiar face.

Seeing Mala heading towards her, Lucy decided to begin closing the sales when her phone buzzed on the counter. Lucy flipped it over and saw the notification: TikTok- 62,000 likes.

She laughed softly. “We did it, Evi.”

Her TikTok account had started as a joke a few years ago with quick outfit transitions, styling tips, and “mall-girl fashion hacks.” Somehow, it had exploded. Almost two million followers later, the attention had turned into real money, sponsorships, and finally the dream she’d whispered about for years.

A store of her own.

“Excuse me?”

Lucy looked up. It was the same girl who had been admiring the bags and purses, holding three dresses, and holding an uncertain smile.

“Can I try these on?”

“Of course,” Lucy said warmly, stepping around the counter. “Fitting rooms are right this way.”

The girl hurried off, clearly excited.

Lucy returned to the counter feeling that familiar warmth bloom in her chest. She loved this part, helping people find things that made them feel confident. Mala was still with the same woman, answering questions.

Outside the store, the mall buzzed with weekend energy. Tourists walked past carrying shopping bags, teenagers clustered around smoothie stands, and the distant sound of slot machines drifted faintly from the nearby casino entrance.

Vegas never really slept and this is good for business.

The bell above the boutique door chimed, and Lucy glanced up casually, then immediately sensed trouble. The woman who entered had the unmistakable air of someone who believed the world existed purely for her convenience.

Tall stilettos clicked sharply across the floor. Her platinum-blonde hair was pulled into a severe ponytail, and her oversized sunglasses remained perched on her face despite the indoor lighting.

She scanned the store like a critic inspecting a mediocre art exhibit.

Lucy gave her usual friendly smile. “Welcome to Velvet Thread.”

The woman didn’t respond. Instead, she wandered toward a display table where Lucy had arranged several designer handbags imported from a small brand she’d discovered online. The girl from the changing room returned, and Lucy cashed her out, thanked her with a brilliant smile, handing over a 20% off card for her next purchase.

The blonde woman stopped cold. “I’ll take that one.”

Lucy blinked. “I’m sorry?” The bag she pointed to had a sold card placed on it. So Lucy stepped out to examine better. Maybe from this angle, it only seemed that way, as there were many other bags as well.

“That bag.” The woman pointed a perfectly manicured finger at the very one. “Wrap it up.”

Lucy hesitated for half a second. “I’m afraid that bag has already been purchased.” It had been ordered online earlier at a 40% off opening offer.

The woman slowly lowered her sunglasses. Her eyes narrowed like someone who had just been personally insulted. “I don’t think you understand,” she said coolly. “I want that bag.”

Lucy kept her smile polite but firm, eyeing Mala, who was now looking over at them as she went to the cash register with the other woman.

“And I understand that,” she said. “But it’s already been sold to-”

Lucy turned to her fully. “That won’t be necessary,” she said calmly. “The purchase has already been completed.”

The woman folded her arms. “Triple.”

Lucy almost laughed. “Ma’am, I’m sorry but-.”

The much taller blonde woman’s lips twisted in disbelief. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

Lucy sighed internally. Since she was gorgeous and had a pompous air to her, but seemed familiar, she was guessing a Hollywood star of some sort.

Oh boy. “No,” she said pleasantly. “But I do know how a receipt works.”

The blonde woman’s expression darkened. “This is ridiculous,” she snapped. “My husband owns this mall.”

Lucy blinked. Is this how rich wives behaved? Owning the mall does not mean her husband owns her business.

Suddenly, she yanked her phone from her purse and held it up. The camera pointed directly at Lucy. “Oh my god, you guys,” the woman said loudly, slipping into the exaggerated tone of someone addressing an online audience. “I’m literally being harassed by a store employee right now.”

Lucy stared at her. “You’re… filming?”

Mala’s eyes were wide as she bagged the customer's items. The customer herself looked amused as she took in the scene.

“Obviously.” The woman stepped closer, angling the phone for dramatic effect. “This is the little clerk refusing to sell me an item even though my husband owns the entire mall.”

Lucy blinked again. That wasn’t even close to what happened. Lucy could feel the situation spiraling toward something messy, exactly the kind of viral drama that spread across social media within minutes.

Unfortunately for the woman… Lucy knew social media better than most. She straightened and gave the camera a bright smile. “Which platform?”

The woman froze.

Lucy casually leaned toward the phone. “Quick correction,” she said cheerfully. “This alleged customer here wants a bag I already sold to one of my dear followers, and I’m simply refusing to take it away from her because someone else demanded it.”

The blonde woman’s confidence faltered slightly.

“A customer here is a witness to that,” she guided the blonde woman’s phone to the customer, and Mala and the girls waved awkwardly. Lucy then pointed her pistol fingers towards the camera, “We also have footage here.” She made a display of her hands. “But hey,” she added lightly, “if your husband owns the mall, I’m sure he can build you another handbag store right next door.”

The woman’s eyes widened in fury, and she put down her phone. “You’re going to regret this.”

Lucy tilted her head. “Probably not.”

For a moment, the two women stared at each other.

“This place won’t last six months.”

Lucy gave a sweet smile. “We’re on a three-year contract, so I’m feeling optimistic. Sue me, or rather… I’ll sue you.”

A.N.

Hii guys- Note that is story has 35 chapters only. Written for the contest- ECHOS OF US.