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Lavin Fashions has been the darling of the fashion world for the past few years partially because of the media’s fascination with the company’s namesake. Andre Lavin is a descendant of Italian royalty, blindingly photogenic and the closest thing to our generation’s Versace. People aren’t just obsessed with his designs, they’re obsessed with his life.
Landing a client like this would not only put Mirage on the map it would guarantee us all job security.
“The reason I moved our weekly meeting yesterday was because I had a call with the head of design for Lavin Fashions yesterday afternoon.”
He pauses and waits for the excited murmurs to wane before continuing.
“Mr. Lavin has offered to send his private jet to transport us to Vegas where he’s currently meeting with potential investors for his next brand launch. We’ll be taking three junior associates with us. I’ll allow the team leads to choose. It goes without saying this is the biggest deal Mirage has ever lobbied for and I expect all hands on deck this week. I know I can count on you all to continue doing exceptional work.”
My eyes meet Milo’s across the table. In the span of a heartbeat, a message of understanding passes between us. It’s on.
He may have beaten me to the Adler account, but I’m going to be the one who locks in this partnership.
When I get home, my roommate looks up from her perch on the couch. Her face betrays her surprise. I don’t even get my key out of the door before she starts on me.
“Oh my god, Oreo. Call the cops, we have an intruder!” Ariana whispers dramatically to the black and white Pomeranian in her lap. Oreo jumps up when she sees me and gives a single, joyful bark.
“Har, Har,” I ignore her and set my messenger bag by the door and slip my heels off. It feels fantastic to release my toes into the wild after having them crammed into those narrow pointy shoes all day. The price we pay for fashion.
“Seriously, Oreo. There’s no way this can be Mya, our roommate. Because we normally only see her on Sundays. Every other day she gets in so late that any sane person is already in bed watching Netflix.”
I saunter into the kitchen and snag a piece of pizza from the open box on the counter. “Maybe I’m taking your advice, did you ever think of that? I’m trying to live a little, get off work early, hang out. All the normal things I usually don’t have time for.”
Ariana gets up and scrutinizes me before grabbing a piece of pizza for herself. “So you just decided to get off work early? Was it happy hour or something?”
“No, we had the office happy hour a few days ago. I did attend by the way. You know James likes for us to talk to the junior associates. I put in my appearance, had a beer and then went back to the office. But tonight, I decided to take off on time. We’re pitching a major client next week so this might be my last chance to relax for a while.”
Ariana chews thoughtfully. “Happy hour, huh?”
“Is that all you heard?” I finish my slice of pizza and then kneel down to give Oreo a scratch. She gives my chin a lick before continuing to sniff the floor around my feet. Apparently I’m not that interesting since I’ve already finished my pizza.
“Yes. Was he there?”
“The entire office was there.” I ignore her searching look and walk over to the refrigerator for a soda.
When I close the door, she’s standing right behind it. I almost drop the can of soda I’m holding. It’s also the first time I get the full effect of her outfit. She’s wearing a blue T-shirt that says I don’t trust electrons, they never do anything positive coupled with a pair of paint-splattered jeans.
“Redecorating? Again?”
Ari is obsessed with creating the perfect environment and repaints her room at least once per year. Yeah, I’ve kissed any hope of getting our security deposit back good-bye.
“Don’t try to change the subject. Painting my room isn’t nearly as interesting as whether your hot as fuck co-worker was at happy hour.”
She follows me as I walk back around the kitchen cou
nter and take a seat on the couch. I close my eyes and enjoy being off my feet but when I open my eyes again, Ari is standing right next to me with her arms crossed. Ever since she saw Crazy Eyes on the show Orange is the New Black, whenever she wants me to cave, she stares at me. It works every time. Her hazel eyes have the ability to be insanely gorgeous but also really intense. Like serial killer intense.
“Okay fine, he was there! Now can you please stop staring at me with that creepy look?” It’s almost ridiculous how quickly she can break me down when I’m trying to play it cool but we’ve been roommates and friends ever since I came to D.C. Not many people know me as well as she does.
“I’m starting to wish I’d never told you about him,” I grumble, knowing that she won’t take offense.
Sure enough, she just laughs. “Yeah right. Who else would have listened to you gushing about your dreamy new co-worker back when he was first hired? That was all you talked about for months until… well, you know.”
“Yeah. Until I found out he was a backstabbing jerk. Thanks for the reminder.”
Ari grins. “What are friends for?”
Since we’re already on the topic, I might as well unload my latest problems. Most of my old friends from college are already married and the only things they want to talk about these days are babies and when I think I’ll take the plunge and get married, too. I don’t begrudge their happiness at all but it’s difficult to find someone who can relate to the things going on in my life anymore.
