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Throughout high school and university, I worked the sales’ floor at Anton’s and dreamed of the day I’d be the one choosing the merchandise. A diploma in fashion design. A degree in design. Courses in business administration. Slowly, I moved up through the ranks, adding several industry certifications to my repertoire on the way. Sales, visual merchandising, assistant buyer, and finally, I landed the job working with Maeve.
She took me under her wing and taught me everything she knew and the importance of upholding the image of the brand. We worked closely with the merchandising team and graphic design teams. Met with designers, visited supply houses, and attended fashion shows. I had a special knack for matching outfits to the best models which came in handy because Maeve also supervised the photoshoots to ensure brand ideals were being met.
These photoshoots used to be quarterly. Then Anton’s began distributing a monthly fashion magazine which required monthly photoshoots. There were two a month during each quarter, plus a few additional throughout the year to maintain the website, advertise for upcoming sales, produce specialized marketing materials, and design invitations for the Christmas fashion show Anton’s hosted for the community.
Thankfully, that had nothing to do with me.
Was I excited?
I barely registered the bustle of the airport as I made my way through the various checkpoints.
I’d dreamed about this job.
I just never imagined it would come this soon.
Other than the few trips I’d filled in for Maeve over the past six weeks, I’d never taken on the responsibility of overseeing a photo shoot myself. Now I had my own assistant. Temporary assistant, I mentally corrected myself.
For some reason, Eloise irritated me. In any case, she wasn’t set to arrive until tomorrow. Perhaps a male assistant. Might be nice to thwart Ratcliffe’s dreams of younger, impressionable, female employees.
I settled into my seat, in first class no less, with the full intention of reading, uninterrupted, for the entirety of the four-hour flight to the west coast.
While I’d cracked the spine, I could brag of little else.
The way Lucky looked at Minty ripped the shades off my eyes. No one ever looked at me like that. As much as I’d professed happiness and contentment partnering with my best friend to raise our daughter, not so deep down I desperately wanted someone to look at me the way he looked at her.
I feared it would never happen.
I sighed and doodled in the borders of my book. I retraced the L and M I’d intertwined in the margin. Not all the recent changes thrilled me, but Lucky’s happiness made them easier to swallow.
Minty gave me hope.
But experience told me otherwise.
I determined to focus on the excitement of my first trip in my new position, things that remained within my control.
What I’d worked for all these years.
What I’d wanted.
What I still wanted.
In the quiet of my mind, I admitted I wanted my own Lucky more than anything.
It irked me that this promotion suddenly felt like a consolation prize.
I wasn’t feeling awfully consoled.
“Re-focus on your work,” I murmured to myself. “You have your daughter. You have Lucky. You have Minty. You have Ava. It’s enough.”
The hollow in my chest disagreed.
Ares
If I turned my head slightly to the right, I could see the barest sliver of Hope’s profile. I’d never colored inside the lines, so it made sense that I refused to keep my eyes front and centre no matter how many times I told myself she was not a good idea.
Why did you have to be such an asshole when you met her?
I’d asked myself the same damn question at least a dozen times.
