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“Yes. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you do have this eclectic style, very… um… what’s the word I’m looking for?” She brings her finger to her lip, tapping while she’s thinking. Her eyes light up the moment it comes to her. “Retro.”
“Um… thanks, I guess.” I smile politely, unsure if she’s complimenting or ridiculing me. “What were you thinking?”
Aurora’s iPad is her life. She carries it around like a priest carries a bible. It’s even covered in a Louis Vuitton case which is specially designed for her.
On the screen are some sketches and designs of dresses, different from the ones she showed me earlier for Emerson. I really like what she has planned for me to wear. I just can’t justify or afford to splurge on anything right now.
“It’s really nice of you, Aurora. It’s just that I can’t afford to spend money right now. Part of me working this job is to pay for my mom’s care.”
She laughs, slapping my shoulder gently. “Don’t be silly. It’s part of your package. Didn’t Emerson tell you that?”
I shake my head, distracted by my cell ringing. “Speak of the devil—”
“Milana!” Emerson’s high-pitched voice barrels through the speaker, forcing me to distance my cell until the echoing stops. “I need your help!”
“Is everything okay?” I ask, worried.
“Yes… no. I don’t know. Can you meet me in the office in twenty minutes?”
“Of course. I’m only a few blocks away.”
Emerson says goodbye, giving me no inkling as to what’s happening. When Aurora asks what’s going on, I shrug, unsure of why Emerson sounded panicked. We part ways, Aurora heading to a fabric meeting and me to the office.
It takes me only around ten minutes to get there, and thankfully, I don’t trip during my sprint to get to the office on time. I’m wearing my black pumps, the pointy ones that go with every outfit but aren’t designed for
running, along with my A-line charcoal dress, coupled with a black patent belt. The dress—also not designed for running—bunches up around my waist which I fix in the elevator.
My hair is braided back and away from my face. I thought long and hard about cutting it since the heat and long hair don’t particularly mix, but I’ve erred on the side of caution wondering what Mama will think. It’s always been her thing, and I’m not sure why it never bothered me so much until now.
Jana, Emerson’s receptionist, tells me to head to the boardroom where Charlie is sitting, laptop in front of her and a stack of papers. She lifts her head to greet me, brushing her hair away from her face in annoyance. “Hi, Milana. Glad you’re here early. We’ve got a lot to work on.”
“Emerson told me to come straight away, but I have no clue what’s—”
Behind me, the sound of feet tapping against the tiles cuts me off. Charlie looks up, smiles quickly, though forced, and then stands to extend her hand. The hand reaches past me—manly, slight hair on the knuckles and fingers—the same ones that have traced all over my body.
Breathe.
Repeat.
Shit.
“Charlie, always a pleasure.”
Charlie ignores his comment, gesturing to me. “Milana, have you met Wesley, Emerson’s business partner? Oh, wait a minute, you mentioned you have.”
I stand, only having just sat down, and take the deepest of breaths as if I’m preparing to sing at the opera, and finally turn around.
His eyes are dancing sinfully, and he’s sporting a small smile that plays on his lips intending to make me quiver beneath my dress. The crisp white business shirt that sits beneath his navy suit is unbuttoned more so than usual, exposing his tanned chest.
Honestly, I could eat him whole.
Stop, you need to act professionally here.
I extend my hand while keeping my eye contact simple. “Yes, we’ve met. Pleased to see you again, Mr. Rich.”
There’s amusement in his eyes as I call him Mr. Rich, and I nervously pull my sweaty palm away and sit back down. Wesley walks around the table, positioning himself in front of me, placing his cell on the table.
My notebook, sitting on the table, now becomes my sole focus. I find myself doodling on the page knowing he’s watching me, then quickly write down some words to pretend that the way he’s staring at me isn’t affecting me whatsoever.
