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Chapter One
Bria
Maximillia Jeffries paces up and down the large warehouse-like area. It’s a building off to the side of the movie set, a magical place filled with rows and rows and rows of clothes. They hang everywhere, stacked to the ceiling, and there are more – hats and coats and pants and accessories – lying in piles all over the room.
Sunlight filters in through the horizontal slit windows set high up in the exposed ceiling, shafting through the rafters.
Maximillia stops and studies the motes of dust shimmering in the light for a moment, her upper lip curling as though she finds the very presence of uncleanliness disturbing. She’s a tall, thin, sharp woman, and it’s difficult not to let my heart hammer in my chest as she slowly turns to me.
She’s one of the most renowned costume designers in the industry. She’s worked in Hollywood for over forty years.
And I’m…
The eighteen year old who only got this job because of a work-for-orphans program my youth manager arranged for me. It’s a scheme to get us out of the orphanage and into the working world.
And heck, yeah, this job really suits me.
A steampunk movie with Victorian costumes, acting as an intern and general do-whatever-she-says person for Maximillia freaking Jeffries.
I’ve always loved the Victorian era. And I’ve always loved dressing up.
Plus, the star of the movie?
My belly tingles just thinking about him, Braden Braxten, with his hulking body, gleaming silver hair, and alpha wolf eyes. He’s forty-three, richer than God, and famous all over the world.
He’d never want me.
Focus.
I can’t let my mind flutter away like that, not when Maximillia is staring at me with a sour twist to her lips. She’s wearing a black business suit, stylish shiny shoes, making me feel frumpy in my chain store pants and my second-hand jacket.
“We need six burly Steampunk Victorian style assassins to stand behind Braden as he gives his speech. All of these men need to look tough, my dear. They need to look capable. They need to look like the sort of men who have been serving under the illustrious Commander Griffiths for a long time, you see. His most seasoned men.”
I nod, making sure she knows I’m listening, even as the size of the task looms large in my mind. There are so, so, so many clothes in here.
Sorting through them all is going to be a mammoth effort.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes, I think so.”
She paces across the room, her steps going clip-clip-clip. “I don’t need you to think, Bria. I need you to feel. I need you to trust your instincts. You’ve got this job because of an interest in costume, an interest in the Victorian era. But I don’t need interest. I need ability. I need talent. Can you do that for me?”
I swallow, nerves causing me to shiver. Part of me almost tells her no, no freaking way. I don’t know what I’m doing. This is my first day onset and I expected to be shadowing her or one of the other costume designers, getting to know the job before I was given anything like this.
But Maximillia has a reputation for being tough and uncompromising, so all I can do is nod.
“Words, dear girl. Words.”
“Yes, I can do it. You can count on me.”
She steps back and claps her hands together, the sound echoing in the large ceiling. “Excellent. Then I shall leave you to it. You have until the end of the day.”
Turning away, she begins to stride toward the door.
I take a quick step forward, panic coursing through me. I don’t want to tell her to wait. I don’t want to possibly trigger her legendary temper.
But if I don’t ask her now and I go to her later, she’s going to get even angrier. I just know it.
“Um, Miss Jeffries?”
She spins toward me, a glint in her eyes. It’s like she’s trying to decide if she’s going to launch herself at me or not. “Hmm?”
“I’ll need to know their dimensions, you know, for the clothes. If they’re seasoned men, they’ll have well-fitting clothes.”
She bares her teeth. “Very good, dear girl. Very nicely done. That was your first test. Here you are.”
She reaches into her jacket pocket and takes out a folded-up piece of paper, placing it on the nearest pile of clothes.
“Have fun.”
I take a big breath when she finally leaves me, feeling as though I need to suck extra oxygen into my lungs. Nerves are crackling all through my body.
This is the first real job I’ve ever had.
Before this, I delivered papers in my early teens, but this feels so grown-up, so important. I know some people would say, oh, it’s just a stupid movie about Steampunk pirates, or whatever. But this is my passion, a dream situation, and I want to get it right.
So I better stop standing around here thinking about it. And do it.
