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“I get her chair!”
“Not IT on coffee duty!”
Okay, so some people are more pragmatic, but I can’t blame them. I know how cutthroat fashion is. I’ve worked my way to my position too, and my being gone for a month means the fight will be on to fill my shoes.
“Nora! I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can. And I’ll make sure Clay is caught up on everything before I leave,” I rush to tell her, knowing that the interns can handle the professional stuff. But Clay, as Nora’s personal assistant, will need some calendar information too. I work hand-in-hand with him most days to keep Nora on track and able to focus on the creative aspects of her work.
“No, you won’t. You’re going to get out of here. Go home, pack, prepare.” She pauses, looking at the crowd around us. “And when you get back, you’ll step right back into being my right hand. Unless you win the whole damn thing and go off on your own. Then I’ll stand back like a proud mama and clap louder than anyone else for you.”
I really hit the jackpot with Nora. She’s the best mentor anyone could ever wish for.
My head spins, the room whirling wildly, but it’s because everyone is hugging me and then passing me on to the next person for a hug. “Is this real?”
“Oh, it’s real, alright,” Nora says. “Go show those Frenchie-Frenches what us NYC bitches can do. It’s about damn time.” She claps as she says it, and I can’t help but grin.
I, Autumn Fisher, a NYC designer from small-town Massachusetts, am going to Paris, France to design for House Corbin.
It’s a bigger dream than I could’ve ever dreamed. And it’s coming true.
