Page 19

It has been five days since the article first dropped. For easier understanding, that is equivalent to one hundred and twenty hours or seven thousand, two hundred minutes or four hundred and thirty two thousand seconds. That is a lot of time for an unfounded rumor to have spent in circulation.

I have been told on more than one occasion that I had a very short patience span but I disagree. I had a short patience span for stupid people and stupid conversations, sure, but I have a very long patience span when it comes to important things. I don’t like to act on impulse and ruin things.

This is why I still haven’t done anything even though Joseph hasn’t gotten back to me yet. I sent him another message and gave him two more missed calls but they were ignored just like the others .

I called my publicist and she told me it would be wiser if I didn’t release a statement.

We argued about it for a good five minutes before I conceded and told her I wouldn’t say anything.

It is so frustrating to have to sit back and do nothing, but I have no other choice.

The wrong move can trigger a butterfly effect that even I wouldn’t be able to bitch my way out of.

She advised that if the backlash gets too much then I should disable my comments but I refused. I’m not going to let a few bad comments stop me from being able to receive positive reviews.

I went back to my usual coffee place today, the same place I got flour bombed. I wanted to go to the bookstore but it was out of my way and I was rushing to complete some work at the office.

When I got there, I was called a home wrecker at least two times before 8 a.m. that has got to be some kind of new record. Thankfully, I got my coffee without having food thrown on me and I had a semi decent start to my day.

Marissa wasn’t by her desk by the time I passed so I put the cup of coffee that I got for her on her table. I was careful to place it in the cup holder and not to spill it.

Marissa is so careful with her things. She liked them to be arranged a certain way and I knew it visibly annoys her when she saw my desk as scattered as it usually was which is why she refrained from stepping into my office unless it was necessary.

She had a breakdown once when she accidentally spilled water on the table. There weren’t any important documents but she still freaked out. I got her the cup holder the next day to avoid such accidents again. It took almost half an hour for her to calm down.

She walked into my office around 9 to thank me for the coffee and also to give me some documents to go over.

I wish I could focus more on the fashion aspects of my job and not the actual business aspects.

But unfortunately, they are a package deal and as much as I want to delegate my work to someone else, no one will do it the way I want it to be done.

I was going through our financial statements for the past month when there was a knock on my door. I glanced at the clock and my eyes widened when I saw that it read 4 p.m. I didn’t realize time had gone by so fast.

I muttered a quick ‘come in’ and Nathan made his way into my office.

“Don’t you own anything casual?” the words slipped out before I could stop them.

He was in his usual slacks and button up. If not that I had seen him in a sweatshirt I would have bet all my money on the fact that his closet was filled with nothing but button up shirts, slacks and shiny black shoes.

“Good evening, Adira, I had nice day, thanks for asking.” His tone was bored but dripping with sarcasm, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Touché,” I closed the document in front of me, “Are you ready for this?”

“Let’s start off easy today, how do you feel as the show draws closer?”

“I’m excited of course; it is going to be an amazing show with such wonderful people. I am also a tad bit nervous as well because this is a huge show and I would not want to mess up.” I explained, “Messing up here would be fashion suicide. The tabloids would never let it go. ”

He was about to say something when a phone rang. It wasn’t my phone obviously, mine is always on vibrate during our sessions and I know it isn’t his either because I’ve heard his ringtone before.

It took me a second to realize that it was the office phone, and I had specifically told Marissa not to transfer any calls that aren’t important while we are doing our sessions, so it must be important.

“I’m so sorry, but I think I have to take this.” Nathan waved me off and I held the receiver to my ear, “Adira speaking.”

“This is Francine Beaufort, I am so sorry to bother you on a fine evening like this.”

I recognized the name. She’s a well known fashion critic in New York and she is well known for hosting the annual ‘New York Couture Week’.

It is very similar to fashion week, only more cut throat and for small scale fashion brands.

She invites them all to showcase their best pieces in a high scale competition.

And although it has New York in the title; it very rarely holds in New York.

There are usually about five judges and the audience is packed with everyone from A-list celebrities, to potential investors, other massive fashion brands and the meanest fashion critics ever.

It is starting in a little over two weeks and tickets don’t go out until a week prior to the event.

I think she does that to create a buzz and a sort of frenzy for the people who do want to attend.

Even for celebrities, you have to send an email to her month prior and it still isn’t confirmed that you will get a ticket.

Sometimes she sends tickets to people who don’t even send emails or make plans to attend.

I wasn’t able to get a ticket last year which really sucked but I have plans to make it there this year. I sent an email the moment she announced the theme for this year and I am praying that she is calling to tell me that I got a ticket .

“It’s not a problem,” I tried to keep my voice even although I was inwardly freaking out, “How can I help you?”

“I was wondering if you would like to be a judge at Couture Week.”

“I’m sorry.” I seem to be in the habit of blurting out words today.

“I’ve seen your work, Adira, and you stand out. It would be my greatest pleasure to have you. If you’re too busy, then I understand.”

“No, I’m not,” I said too quickly then I cleared my throat, “I was just not expecting that. I would be honored to be a judge. I am- thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I could hear the smile in her voice, “I hear you’re doing some sort of documentary, you have my full permission to film on set, but don’t release any clips until I have. You can also bring a plus one. I’ll send your assistant everything you need.”

She hung up and I still couldn’t form any sentences. That was an absolute shock that I was not expecting. Did the Francine Beaufort just call me and ask me to be a judge? Not just that, but she also said she had seen my work. Hearing that from her is as good as her saying she is in love.

She is one of my role models and inspiration; she is also why I tend to lean towards tough love. If you get a ‘nice job’ from her, then it is as good as having your work on the front cover of every single vogue magazine for ten years straight.

“Are you going to let me in on what just happened?” Nathan’s voice snapped me back to reality and I couldn’t even bring myself to get mad at him for ruining my daydream .

“So that was Francine Beaufort and she asked me to be a judge this year.” I relayed the entire conversation to him.

His eyes widened in shock and admiration, “That’s amazing actually; I was at last year’s Couture Week. This is an amazing feat, congratulations. It also means you don’t have to go through the trouble of trying to secure a ticket.”

“Neither do you,” he looked genuinely confused now, “She heard about this and she asked that you come on the condition that you don’t release any clips until she does.”

We spent the rest of the session talking about Couture Week and my expectations going in. To be honest, I don’t have any expectations, I am just super excited and struggling not to pinch myself to see if this is real or a dream.

The only thing I’m not looking forward to is the ridiculous amount of emails and calls I will get the moment I am announced as a judge.

Judges will be announced right before the tickets go up and brands will be fighting to get your attention so you can display them on that grand stage.

Obviously I am going to rep my own brand, everyone with half a brain knows that, but it won’t stop people from trying to get me to change my mind.

Either way, I am super excited and cannot wait for the event. This will serve as one of the highlights of my career.

We finished on a high note and Nathan was packing up his things when his phone started buzzing like crazy in his pocket. Around the same time, so did mine.

We looked at each other with identical gazes of concern. I know why mine is buzzing, it’s probably a bunch of new articles about me, but I didn’t realize he had his notifications on for articles on me .

“Are you stalking me, Mr. Cowe?” I asked with a teasing smile.

“I just want to know what questions to ask you.” He put his camera down and took out his phone, “Besides, there is no logical reason to stalk you considering that I see you every day.”

I took out my phone and pulled up the first article from Buzz feed and all my earlier excitement and joy evaporated from my body.

Joseph had finally made his statement to the press via his twitter and he didn’t even think to let me know that he was doing so. I tried to pull up his twitter but I realized I couldn’t find it. The bastard must have blocked me.

I tried checking via my finsta account but he had also blocked me there. Of course he would, he knew my finsta username.

“Give me your phone, Nathan.” His normally stoic face held concern.

“Are you sure about that?”