Page 525 of Manhattan Bossholes

“You’re here!” a voice rang out as I walked into the room.

Lavonte, also in early and raring to go. He rushed over to me, clutching his tablet.

“Good morning,” I said warily, because Lavonte liked to talk and while I loved that about him, I currently had way too much to do.

“My dear, all I need is a tiny little baby signature on this here design,” he said, handing me his tablet. “Once you approve it, we’re off to patterning.”

“I’ve told you, my signature doesn’t matter.” I sighed. “I haven’t been promoted, I’m just a designer, like you.”

He was shaking his head before I finished. “Nope, you’re so much more than that and you know it. James believes in you, and we all do too. And someone has to sign off on our stuff, or nothing will get made. It’s not like Herb in billing can do it, am I right? So, you’re the chosen one, baby!” He tapped the screen. “Signature, please.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d been asked to sign off on a new design. I felt like a fraud every time. But the more people came to me the clearer it became that I was the one shaping the vision for Branson’s next launch, by proxy. I’d almost thrown up when I realized the power I’d accidentally been given. My decisions were going to end up on hangers across the country.

It was a responsibility I had never wanted. And what was worse, it was pulling me away from the stuff I really loved: designing. I felt like I hadn’t picked up my pencils in weeks. My fingers ached to sketch, not just because design was everything to me, but also because it kept my mind from wandering. When I was getting lost in a design, I didn’t have the bandwidth to think about my fractured heart.

“You don’t like it?” Lavonte pouted, glancing from his tablet to my face.

“I’m sorry, it’s great,” I said quickly and scrawled my name on the bottom of the screen. “You never miss.”

I could feel someone watching us, so I glanced up.

“Gotcha,” Calliope said, staring at her phone. “This photo is going to be part of a Reel that teases what’s coming up.” She frowned, still staring at her phone. “Natalie, it might help if you smiled. Can we take it again?”

Smiling for real required too much work, but I managed to plaster on a fake one for her until she got the spontaneous-but-posed shot she needed. My face had been showing up on the Branson social media feeds more and more, but there was no need to keep trying to connect me to the brand.

I was leaving as soon as I found a place to land. Calliope needed to stop featuring me, because I was getting the hell out as fast as I could.

Not that I’d told anyone yet. But I’d started assembling my new and improved resume and doing research on other design houses that might be a fit for me. I needed to be long gone by the time James came back. I’d tried envisioning how things would go once his leave of absence ended, and being civil to him didn’t feel possible.

For now, I had to focus on the present. My day kicked into overdrive, and I felt pulled in a million different directions. The sad fact was none of them fulfilled me the way designing always had.

“Look at that frown! Is something wrong? What can I help you with?”

Rhea had shown up by my desk and was staring at me with a worried expression.

“Hey there. Thanks, but there’s nothing I can delegate right now.” I rolled my neck in a circle and stretched my arms out in front of me. “How is it already lunchtime?”

“You’ve had your head down for hours.” Rhea moved closer. “I hate seeing you so tense.”

“The work needs to get done, and we’re down three people, so…” I gestured to the piles on my desk.

“Not having James around is tough.” Rhea gave me a pointed look, but I refused to take the bait.

People probably had a million theories about what had gone on between me and James, but no one dared to ask about it directly, which I appreciated. We were there to do a job, not speculate on my love life.

Not that it was ever really love.

“Oh my,” Rhea muttered, staring past me. “What is she doing here?”

I looked over my shoulder and spotted none other than Bernie gliding through the room towards us, hair in a perfect updo and wearing one of our not-yet-released deconstructed designs. A few people clapped as she walked by.

“Rhea, darling,” Bernie said, wrapping her in a quick hug. “The rock of Branson.”

“If you’re suggesting that I’ve been around since the Stone Age, you’re right.” She laughed as they pulled apart.

“And Natalie.” Bernie reached out to squeeze my hand, giving me a warm smile. “Just the person I need to see.”

A worried feeling rolled around my stomach. Why had Bernie come to the office to see me? She never came to the office. What had blown up now?