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Chapter One
Mia
A phone beeped again, and Catherine looked up from the paper she had been reviewing for the past hour to read the message. She was still working because I was a workaholic, and to me, it made no difference that it was Friday. Or that the clock on the wall read well past six. I realized it should, especially since I was taking up someone else’s time with my inability to shut my brain off and leave my office.
I’d always been this way; a hard worker. But it had gotten worse since I started my own company in Los Angeles. It was a tough city to make it in. But the old saying is true: it’s a dog-eat-dog world. There were millions of people with ideas and businesses just ready to take the place I’d carved out for myself on the ladder of achievement.
“Is that your husband again?” I asked her, the guilt seeping into my words.
“It is,” Catherine confirmed. “Asking what time I’ll be home.”
“I’m so sorry. We can continue going over all of this another time.” I saw hope in Catherine’s eyes. I could tell she was ready to get home to her husband, Jackson. “Really, it’s fine. You can drop in before the shoot.”
“How are you feeling about that, by the way?” Catherine asked me as she rose and gathered her things.
Scared, petrified, nervous. Pick any way to say shitting my pants in fear, and that was me. “Feeling okay, I guess.”
Catherine laughed. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“Yeah, well,” I said, as if that explained it. I gathered up my things, indicating we were done for the night.
“It’ll be fine, really.” Catherine leaned down across the table, her long brown hair spilling over her shoulders. “Look at me, Mia. You will be amazing. I know this is a big step for you and your company, but you have to trust me. This is what we need to do to kick Shoegasm into high gear.”
“You’re right; I know you are,” I began, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “I just don’t like having my face out there. I prefer the shoes.” The last comment came out flippant, and I hoped she wouldn’t see through it. But she wouldn’t be Catherine if she ignored it.
“Mia,” she said, lowering herself back into the chair she’d recently vacated. “I know you’re nervous and I know you’re scared, but this is why you hired me—to steer you and Shoegasm in the right direction. Trust me on this one, I’ve got you and I will not let you fall.”
I looked over into her brown eyes and saw so much warmth there. How could I not trust her? She was one of the best publicists in the business. When I began searching for one, she was my first choice. Her firm, CJJ Public Relations, drew me in first. But after meeting with her, I knew she would understand my vision and what I had been trying to do. She would see this as more than a little shoe company. She would see that I was making these high-end designs and styles more affordable for women who didn’t have the extra three hundred dollars to spend on a pair of heels. I used to scrimp and save to make that possible—sometimes going without dinner—and I didn’t want that for other women.
That was how Shoegasm came to be: needing to make it a success. Needing to make sure that I didn’t piss away my savings on my dream that had brought me to Catherine. I was thankful every day for her. She was going to make sure I made it—that Shoegasm made it.
“I can’t thank you enough for all that you’ve done for me, really. Having you on board has been amazing.”
“Well, that’s what you pay me for,” she quipped.
I laughed, hoping from her tone of voice that she was kidding. But she saw right through me. She knew I was wondering if she was only here because I paid her to be.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe in this company, and you. I don’t just take on any old client who pays the bills. I take on clients whose company I believe in. And yours is definitely one that I believe in. You’re an amazing woman who started an amazing company, and you do wonderful things for charity. There aren’t many twenty-seven-year-old women like you.”
I blushed at the barrage of compliments she spewed out. They were genuine, I could tell. But I had never really been comfortable receiving them. It always made me feel unworthy.
“Thank you for the pep talk. You are a true Godsend,” I told her. “But you have to get home to that husband of yours before he comes bursting through the doors of my office looking for you.”
She laughed. “That actually does sound like something Jackson would do.”
I laughed along with her. “I’ve kept you long enough. Get on out of here.” I gave her hand a squeeze before getting up to gather my own things.
“Are you actually leaving the office?” Catherine asked as she packed up. “Ally tells me you haven’t been leaving the office until seven or eight o’clock.”
Ally was my assistant. She was the only person I trusted to not only help me manage Shoegasm but also to keep me under control. We’ve known each other since college, when she was my roommate. She’s the blonde bombshell who has always kept me sane and caffeinated, and the only woman I could trust with all my secrets.
“I gotta remind her to stop telling you these types of things,” I teased.
“I know this place is your baby, but make sure you’re getting out of here and having some form of a life. It’s important to have a life outside of work. It keeps you from burning out,” she reminded me for what felt like the hundredth time. But I smiled warmly at her each time she said it. She meant well, and so did everyone else who shared the same sentiment with me over and over again.
“I will. This Saturday, I’m going to do something just for me. Take a walk through the city, visit a favorite old bookstore of mine. Who knows, maybe I’ll even stop in for a mani-pedi,” I told her, examining my bare nails. It had been a long time since I’d had a manicure.
“Good, because self-care is important. We don’t want you closing the doors. You’re way too talented for that.”
