MidReal Story
Trina Anderson,
Scenario: Trina Anderson, a personal shopper for cancer patients, helps her client Samantha feel beautiful after a year of battling cancer, and considers expanding her business by hiring a full-time employee; meanwhile, Jackson Reed, an architect and heir to a billionaire, faces criticism from his family about a failed investment and clashes with his aunt over his capabilities in the business.
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Clad in a white robe, Samantha twirled in front of the mirror, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“I can’t believe my hair’s growing so fast!”
She smoothed her hand over her brown locks, which now grazed the tops of her shoulders.
In the year since we’d met, she’d gone from having hair down to her waist to sporting a pixie cut, and it was finally long enough to style.
I’d been helping Samantha—a personal shopping client who also happened to be fighting cancer—find a dress to wear to a party.
This particular event would mark the end of her chemotherapy.
Samantha had undergone treatments over the past year and, while they were effective and she was on the road to recovery, she was still exhausted.
The poor thing… But I couldn’t wait for the day when she’d kick cancer’s ass and be able to reclaim her life.
I whipped out my phone and snapped a picture of her and her new ’do.
“You look great.” I smiled at her reflection in the mirror.
“I’m so glad this is almost over.”
“Me too.” We’d spent countless hours at my shop on Michigan Avenue, sifting through racks of clothing—everything from formal dresses to everyday wear—and I loved every minute of it.
I loved giving people makeovers and helping them find the confidence they sometimes lost when they were sick.
When I saw what a difference it had made for my mother when she was fighting her battle with cancer, I knew I wanted to be able to do it for others.
My mother passed away nearly three years ago, but I could still remember how beautiful she looked when I convinced her to let me help her cut off her long hair before it fell out in clumps.
She’d been so worried about losing it, but after it was gone, she told me it was like shedding a layer of her old self and giving rise to a new one—the one who would fight like hell to get better.
In that moment, I’d realized that helping people look good on the outside might not be as important as getting them healthy on the inside, but it could still make a significant difference in their lives.
I’d been working as a personal shopper for years, but about six months before my mother passed, I’d started taking clients who were fighting cancer.
My business had taken off, and now I spent most of my days using the money I’d made from my traditional clients to help those who needed me most.
I only charged them for what I paid for the clothes, not my time, but it made me happy knowing that what I was doing could help make such a big difference.
My phone dinged, and I glanced down at the screen to see a text from Samantha.
She’d found a new dress, and she needed me to come into her dressing room and zip it up for her.
“Hold on, honey,” I said.
I made my way into her dressing room and zipped up her dress, then took a step back to look at her.
It was a red, knee-length number that showed off her curves perfectly.
She spun around to face me, and I was hit by the sadness in her hazel eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just… This is what I looked like before.
