Page 25

Over the weekend, I was able to get my car cleaned and get the stain of raw eggs out of my seats. It only took a few hundred dollars to get it done. A few hundred dollars that I would have put into something more productive but unfortunately, it had to be wasted on my car.

I was also able to do some research on Grayson Kane and he was not beating his own drum when he said he has worked with a lot of high profile clients. Francine Beaufort’s bodyguards are from Kane securities and he has a lot of actresses and even politicians on his client list.

Nathan was right; he is the best in the business.

That didb’t mean I wanted a bodyguard but right now, I had no choice.

I made the mistake of telling mum I was going to see someone about a bodyguard and she told my dad.

He called to let me know that he was happy with my decision and couldn’t wait to see the man protecting his daughter.

Translation: you better get that bodyguard.

Speaking of the bodyguard, Grayson emailed me a name yesterday along with a file.

Miles Randall; he is ex marine and has been in the business for three years. He is in his late thirties and Grayson assured me that there is no one better fit to protect me.

Grayson and Miles are supposed to meet me at the office today around noon so I could make my final decision. The thought of it alone made me anxious because it felt so final and I didn’t want to do this but I was not left with a choice.

The names of the judges for Couture Week are being announced later today and if I’m going to get a bodyguard, it has to happen before then because the announcement will come with it's own flurry of hate and love.

I finished my sketch for the event and started with the sewing today. I rarely sew my own clothes but this is a special occasion and I cannot risk someone messing it up especially since most of the stitches have to be done by hand.

I was in the middle of sewing when Marissa walked into my office.

“Your publicist sent an email to you on the statement they’ll release for you once the judges are announced. She wants you to look through it and send any corrections you might have.”

“Thank you.” She nodded and left the room .

I carefully arranged the fabric on the settee where I was working and made my way back to my opened laptop on my desk. Sure enough, when I opened my mails my publicists email was sitting at the top of my inbox.

Her statement was short and straight to the point just the way I liked it but something about it did not settle right with me.

She wrote: Adira is very honored to have been chosen as a judge. It is the highlight of her career so far and she would have never dreamed to have been chosen amongst the sea of great stylists. It feels like a dream that she doesn’t want to wake up from.

It sounded like I didn’t deserve what I was given and I was downplaying myself. I know I’m not the best but I know that what I do is great and I do not do substandard work. Were there better options? Yes but I’m not going to let that be released.

I typed out a simple response: try for more gratitude and less downplaying my achievements. The entire world will think I don’t deserve it; I don’t need to agree with them.

Within five minutes, she had edited the second sentence and edited it to say she cannot wait to work with the other great stylists who have been chosen.

I liked that better and I told her just as much.

I had finished responding to her when Marissa came back to my door, “Mr. Kane is here; should I let him in?”

“Of course,”

She left and returned with Grayson and another man who from the pictures I saw is Miles. He is completely bald but from his pictures I know he has light blond hair and dark brown eyes. He is wearing a simple black shirt, jeans and polished black shoes .

I cannot remember the last time I saw someone so casually dressed in my office. It is both weird and refreshing.

“This is Miles,” Grayson said as they sat down opposite my desk, “I sent you his file and it has everything you need to know about him but if you have any other questions, he will be more than happy to answer them.”

“On a normal day I would be here alone,” Miles spoke, “But Mr. Kane told me that you aren’t fully sold on the idea yet.”

“So you just follow me around all day; regardless if you have things to do or not.”

“Regardless of whether we have other things to do or not, we go to work. It’s the same thing for me. And since you don’t want me around permanently it’ll be like any other 9 to 5. I’ll just need your daily schedule so I know where I need to be at every moment of the day.”

I looked at Grayson and he inclined his head as if to say ‘this is what you wanted’.

Miles does seem like a good enough candidate; he has the right background and from his files he has never had an issue with drugs or alcohol so I don’t have to worry about that, and he seems to be able to adapt to any schedule.

Any other question at this point would just be me trying to be difficult.

“How soon can you start?” the words felt like acid on my tongue.

“He can start today if you want. I hear the judge list is officially releasing today.” Grayson said and I nodded, “You might need all the protection that you can get.”

I turned to Miles, “Marissa will show you around so you can have a mental layout of the place.”

He looked to Grayson for confirmation and after he nodded, Miles stood up and excused himself to find Marissa.

After he left, Grayson and I finalized everything that needed to be done. He had already told me about the price when he sent Miles’ file to me and honestly it wasn’t anything less than what I expected.

Some might argue that six figures is a lot for a bodyguard but some haven’t been egged and flour bombed in the span of one week.

We finished everything in less than half an hour and Grayson left. Marissa sent me a text letting me know that she had finished giving Miles the tour and he was going to be in the lobby which was fine by me. I needed to go back to my stitching.

I spent the next hour and a half holed up in my office working on my stitches when I decided that I was done for the day. I decided to check on the dresses for the fashion show and see how the tailors were doing.

They all ignored me as I walked through their workspace. I think it was partly because they were busy and partly because they didn’t want to draw more of my attention than necessary to what they were doing.

The only person who actually met my eye was Hannah and I gave her a small smile which she returned with equal enthusiasm. I stared longer than I should have at the outfit she was working on but there was nothing to critique- at least, not from where I was standing.

I left after that, mainly because I wanted the others to be able to work freely without me looming over their necks more than I already am with the deadline .

I passed by Marissa who was talking to another employee and she ended her conversation quickly and rushed up to me.

“Mr. Cowe is in your office,” she informed me, “The judge list should be releasing in less than an hour, there was a call from someone from the Times and they left a message. Also, Mr. Winston called and said you should give him a call as soon as possible.”

“Thank you,” I resisted the urge to pinch my forehead because of the oncoming headache, “How’s Miles?”

“He’s good actually. He hasn’t spoken to anyone; he just sits there on his own. I even tried making conversation with him but he just gave me one worded responses. He must be so bored, I kind of feel bad for him.”

“He’ll be fine,” I gave her shoulder a soft tap, “You have a job to do, you should probably get back to it.”

She nodded and went back to her conversation while I went up the stairs to my office. Just as she said, Nathan was already in my office but he wasn’t seating on the chair where he usually sat, he was crouched by the settee looking over the dress I was stitching but he wasn’t touching it.

“It’s rude to snoop.” I said announcing my presence.

He didn’t turn but I knew he heard me, “You’re stitching the entire thing by hand.”

It wasn’t a question because we both knew the answer but it didn’t stop me from giving a sarcastic response, “You’re very observant.”

“That’s amazing.” I was caught off guard by the compliment, “I can’t even sew in a straight line.”

I wasn’t sure what to say but I settled for, “Thank you,” he nodded, “Are we going to start this or not? ”

He finally stood up and took his seat. I waited until he was settled before making my way to my own chair.

“First of all,” he began, “Let’s talk about that dress.”

“It’s what I’m wearing for couture week.” I explained, “Normally, I would have someone else do it but there is so little time and it is such an important event. I would hate for it to be less than perfect. My reputation would never survive it.”

“Can you tell me more about the dress?” he asked, “What you’re using to make it, the fabrics and maybe anything else worth knowing?”

“It’s a surprise,” I said coyly, “If I tell you that, you will have a faint idea what it looks like and that just defeats the whole purpose of the surprise.”

The corner of his lips rose and I knew it wasn’t for the interview, it was a genuine reaction and it made me crack a small smile as well. He held up his hands in mock surrender as if to say ‘you win’ and dropped the topic of the dress.

“Speaking of Couture week,” he started, “I hear the judge list is coming out today.”

“Don’t remind me.” I muttered.

“How do you feel about that?”

My first instinct was to lie; say that I felt confident and I couldn’t wait for the list to be out. I wanted to say that I couldn’t wait to see the people I would be judging alongside and talk about what an honor it was and how excited I am but that would be so far from the truth.