Mysterious Personal Shopper Novels & Stories

Tila, my personal shopper at the luxury department store greets us with hugs. She has been Mom’s go to personal shopper for years. Mom always said having a woman like Tila in your corner is clutch. A good relationship with someone like her can help you look like a million bucks on any budget or blend seamlessly into a crowd if you’re trying to stay incognito. Tila has so many high end clients that she’s learned the art of keeping secrets. The things women must have told her in confidence over the years could probably make front page news a hundred times over. “Tila! Good to see you!” I kiss her cheek. “Can we get some water and maybe a cheese plate? We’re going to be here a while?”

I ask. "My personal shopper is an older retired lady that I pay very well for only doing a few hours of work a week. Turns out she loves this stuff and when I gave her an unlimited budget, she went buck wild." he says, adjusting the chair slightly so it points towards the windows more. "I hope you let her get a few things for herself." I say and Pierce gives me a reproachful look.

I asked. I didn't exactly have this part of the impromptu client on his schedule. “A personal shopper,” he said casually and began to walk forward I frowned in confusion. “What?” I ran after him. “You dragged me here to get a personal shopper? What happened to Bethany?” As far as I knew, he already had a personal shopper and she was pretty good at what she did. “She's my shopper. We are here for you.” He said, walking into an expensive looking clothing store.

I instructed suddenly. My driver pulled to the curb without comment. The store was closed, of course, but the side entrance for personal shopping appointments had a discreet buzzer. I had an account so they'd open for me. I stepped out into the cold, coat unbuttoned, breath fogging and stepped Inside, the night security recognized me immediately, called up to the personal shopping manager on duty. Within minutes, a woman in a sleek black dress appeared, her hair perfect despite the hour, smile professional and warm.

“For you to shop.” I looked at the face of the card, seeing my name emblazoned in silver. “How did . . . ? Never mind.” I sighed. It was obvious, whatever Richard wanted, he got. He sat down, reaching for the card. “Sign it and use it. I called Amanda Kelly—she’s the personal shopper I told you about. She’s expecting you in an hour.” “Fine.” “What’s the matter?” “Couldn’t she send me a dress for tomorrow? I’m sure you’ve already informed her exactly what you want me to wear.”

Mama left shortly after we finished talking and eating as she got a call from her office. After lunch I decide to go shopping, because last time I checked my closet it does not have clothes fit for a personal assistant. I also have a lot of time to spare before going home so I take a taxi and go to the mall. I visit about ten different stores or more, looking for the best outfits that say ‘sophisticated’. I won’t lie, it was hard but worth it. I am visiting the last store for the day when a strange number appears on my phone screen. I answer, wondering if maybe it is Enzo wanting to remind me of something.

How did you get my number? His response came almost immediately. Be smarter than that. And that’s not an answer. I exhaled sharply. Of course. My file. I typed back: Yes, I saw it. Good. Another message followed. This is my stylist’s number. Then another. Follow instructions regarding my suit. Then… An address. Bring it there. I typed furiously. I’m not your personal shopper. That’s not in my job description. Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Then one final message:

One such individual, Designer K, was already eager to join forces with me for the project. Upon arriving at the mall, I promptly made my way to Designer Ray's boutique. This designer's brand held immense influence both domestically and internationally, with a clientele spanning the globe. To afford her clothing would require a fortune, making you a billionaire rather than a mere millionaire. Upon crossing the threshold of her boutique, her employees erupted in boisterous laughter. Instinctively, I looked behind me but found nothing to warrant their amusement. It soon dawned on me that I was the subject of their jests.

The warm smiled on her face told Anais that Atlas was familiar to her and that she might be more interested than just being a personal shopper. She smelled faintly of lemon, a neutral beta scent that usually calmed Anais. Today though, she was on edge. She tried to keep herself still and control her own scent while Atlas smiled back. “Hannah,” Atlas greeted her. “This is Anais. Ana, this is Hannah. She is a personal shopper here that has helped dress me very well for many years.” He turned back to face her. “We need a new wardrobe for her today.”

Chloe read it out to me. I rolled my eyes. "I can't believe that people are actually interested in all of this. What are they trying to make out of it? How does it have anything to do with them who he dates?" I asked Chloe. "Oh please Chloe. I just searched him up and he's a really popular media personality. He's rich. He's good looking. He's a CEO. And he has an art gallery, of course people are going to be interested in his life. He's really that amazing! But this article is weird....how can they call you Cinderella? And they are really quick! You just went out today. How were they able to get news of it so quickly?" Chloe asked me.