A new stylist in town wants to vamp up his website and make it match his clothing, industrial chic—that’s what he calls it—and that’s the vibe we’re going for. Viviana says she has ideas, and I can’t wait to hear them.
One last sip of tea and I’m out the door. My car is parked in a nearby lot; the rain clings to my hair, my ponytail soaking, and it feels like it’s washing all my stress away.
The drive is calm; the radio plays folk songs I’ve never heard before, but they match the day perfectly. The Callaghan mansion looms ahead: tall walls and steel gates, the house itself near the lake. For some reason Declan seems traumatised by it and never likes Viviana walking too close to the place.
I stop at the gate. James, the security guard, already knows me, but he always walks around my car and peeks in the backseat. I get it; there’s a lot of money in this family, and they’ve probably had scares over the years.
“You can go, Autumn,” he says with a rough smile. Like everyone here, polite, but they look like they could invade a small country.
Even Declan and his brothers, always in tailored suits, all tall and massive, with mean faces, are becoming familiar to me. It took a while. I don’t really vibe with grumpiness, but Viviana showed me how real they are, and the way Declan melts whenever he’s near Viviana proved they aren’t as bad as they look.
I park near the front door and grab my bag and laptop to take notes for the next project.
“Autumn!” Viviana chirps, all smiles.
“Vi, hi!” I walk to her, and we hug. We have a close relationship; she’s not only my boss, she’s my friend. Her best friend Selma left a couple of months after the wedding, and we have become closer ever since.
“Mackellan Hugh.”
I stop and look at her. “Mac who?”
She laughs and shakes her head, her black hair loose on her shoulders. She’s gorgeous, almost always in black, but never too much—jeans, a shirt or sweater, no makeup. She’s taller than me, though at five-three, that isn’t difficult. Kian, Declan’s brother, jokes we couldn’t be more opposite: her raven hair against my chocolate brown, her black clothes against my earthy tones. Maybe that’s why we connected so easily. On the outside we’re different, but our minds and principles line up perfectly.
“He’s amazing. His clothes are gorgeous and so different.” Viviana walks into her office, which sits right next to Declan’s.
“Hey, Autumn.” Declan’s voice carries from the hallway and makes me jump.
“Shit, sorry. I forget you’re jumpy.” He smiles, and I laugh it off.
“Hi, Declan.”
Well, being stalked for years makes you jumpy, but they don’t need to know that part of my life. That’s behind me. I just want to live without fear now.
“I’m leaving, firecracker. I’ve got some things to deal with with Flynn.” Declan leans in, kisses Viviana softly, then slaps her backside.
I wish I could find a love like this, the way he looks at her, the way he moves when she’s near. He only has eyes for her. I wonder if it was love at first sight for them both, because Viviana melts into him every single time, and it’s the most adorable thing.
Declan leaves, and I hear his brothers outside as the bikes roar to life and they drive off.
“So Mac—” I stop and look at her. “What’s the name again?”
She laughs. “Jesus, girl, you’ve got the memory of Dory.”
“I know!” I say dramatically as we walk into her office, and I slump on the little couch in the corner.
“Mackellan Hugh.” She settles at her desk and turns her monitor towards me. The designs are mostly in grey, black and white, with hints of red. Long skirts, wide belts, some kind of leather corsets.
“They’re beautiful.” I can’t stop staring. He’s talented, that’s for sure. “But the pictures are awful.” I bite my lip, already imagining how to make those pieces the stars.
“Right? He said we could do whatever we wanted.” Viviana leans back in her chair. “So what do you think?”
I look at the clothes: the black, the leather, the red. There’s a hint of BDSM about them, but fancier. Tilting my head, ideas rush in. I stand, start pacing, close my eyes.
“Dark walls, red lights, big couches, glass, mirrors.” I can’t keep still, and Viviana hums in approval. “A place with a dark, industrial vibe, iron and concrete on display.” I open my eyes; she’s squinting at me.
“Oh!” She snatches up her phone and dials.
“Declan, babe, sorry to bother your…work.” She gives me a sly smile. “I need a favour, please.” Her voice melts into honey. “Can you ask Flynn if I can use his club, Teine, for a photoshoot?”
