The gleam in his eyes when he asked me to wait for him didn’t look playful at all. But he is an actor. An extremely talented actor according to critics.
I take a beat to check-in with how I’m feeling, as Dr. King recommends whenever I’m feeling especially conflicted.
That hopeful part of me wants to stay, to wait.
But I just started this job and I do not want to piss off my boss any further than she already is.
Taking all of that into account, I decide it’s definitely best that I leave.
Right now.
CHAPTER 8
Ivy
“Looks like it’s just me and you tonight,” I tell Ms. Shelby as I finish cleaning up the kitchen after dinner.
Her meow urges me to pick her up and stroke underneath her chin, making her purr in delight. I carry her over to my desk and settle in to log in for at least two hours at Style Box.
Once I receive my first paycheck from my full-time job, and the extra income from my part-time role,I’ll have enough to put a little bit of money in savings after my monthly expenses, which unfortunately include a sizable student loan payment.
A loan for the degree I never got the chance to complete.
The thought about the sad state of my finances pushes a sigh through my lips. “It could be worse, right?” I ask Ms. Shelby, petting the top of her head.
Her mewling sounds are the reassurance I need.
Indeed it could be worse. The student loans I have are only from the two-year degree I attempted to get. The degree in fashion design I never finished, and not the five-year undergraduate and MBA that I managed to complete.
My parents covered the cost of those degrees.
“You’re such a disappointment.”
The shocked meowing from my lap snatches me out of my thoughts and back into the present.
I must’ve squeezed her too tight while recalling the way my mother lashed out at me when she found out I dared defy her and pursue the degree that actually interested me.
“Sorry,” I mumble to Ms. Shelby before putting her down.
I refocus on my laptop and begin working to build a winning new wardrobe for my next client. As a design associate who’s a contract worker, we’re not always privy to the clients’ details, but on occasion we’ll get someone who adds additional information like why they’re looking for a wardrobe upgrade.
That’s the case tonight, and I become enraptured in reading Gabrielle’s story of being a recent divorcée and mom of two teenagers. She’s looking to get back into dating after sixteen years of marriage.
The attached picture of herself gives me a number of ideas of what colors and cuts would look great on her.
I fall into the task of sorting through a range of dresses and skirts that would show off her legs in the tasteful way she’s looking for. It takes about an hour to put together three complete outfits that she can also mix and match to make at least three more outfits that are perfect for a range of outings.
Satisfaction washes over me when I hit send for Gabrielle’s box to be created.
I start to open a new profile to complete at least one more order before logging out for the night, but my phone buzzes.
Rose:
Mom says you haven’t called her in months.
My stomach drops from my older sister’s text. Not even a hello or how are you doing. Just straight to the point.
I stop to ask myself if I have the energy to remind my sister that I’ve told our parents it’s best that I remain low contact with them for the time being.
