Chapter 477: The Salesgirl Braced Herself for a Catfight Between Two Women

The salesgirl braced herself for a catfight between two women.

But Lenora Voss walked straight toward Helen Whitmore.

"That dress suits you perfectly," she remarked after careful appraisal.

Lenora had tried the same style before, but it paled in comparison to how it looked on Helen.

It wasn't just about sizing—their auras differed completely.

Lenora naturally exuded sharp intensity, lacking any softness.

Helen was the opposite.

Her gentle features, serene smile, even the warmth in her eyes—all radiated approachability.

Such a face made hostility difficult to muster.

Strangely, Lenora usually disliked tender, feminine types.

Whether it was her sister-in-law Miriam Caldwell or the tea ceremony instructor.

Yet this girl inexplicably drew her in.

Helen noticed the salesgirl's hesitant expression.

She smiled graciously. "Thank you." Gesturing to another dress nearby, she added, "With your hourglass figure, this cut would highlight your waist better..."

Lenora had classic curves—a slender waist paired with ample bust.

She needed designs that accentuated her midsection.

The current dress, though luxurious in fabric, obscured her silhouette.

Helen's suggestion featured a high-waisted mermaid cut.

Black for slimming effect, with a flowing hem to soften the formality.

Lenora tried it on skeptically.

The mirror reflection stunned her.

"Do you study fashion design?"

"Just an avid fashion magazine reader." Helen shook her head shyly.

"You got this precise from magazines alone?"

"Hands-on experience helps too..."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly.

At checkout, Lenora spotted a book in Helen's bag.

The cover of Seven-Day Tales stood out prominently.

"You read this?"

"You're a fan too?" Helen's eyes widened in surprise.

"My son recently obsessed over this author's thrillers." Lenora chuckled. "Bought stacks—The Weapon, The Deserted School."

"Last week when I delivered his lunch, he was reading some campus romance." She wrinkled her nose. "That writing style—so saccharine it gave me goosebumps."

Helen froze.

The mortification of having her cringeworthy past works exposed hit like a tidal wave.

She wished the ground would swallow her whole.

"But the mysteries are genuinely well-crafted." Lenora offered a fair assessment. "Popularity doesn't come without reason."

Helen could only manage a strained smile.

The salesgirl handed over their purchases eagerly.

As Lenora departed, she passed Clara Whitmore at the entrance.

Their eyes met—both choosing silent acknowledgment.

Clara recognized the wealthy socialite.

But she couldn't be certain the recognition was mutual.

To initiate conversation might seem calculated.