I had received my share of letters disguised as love notes. A clusterfuck of jumbled emotions stapled together, declaring lies in the form of poetry. And after a while, it leaves you wary of even the most honest of things. If you aren't careful, you forget what it feels like when someone reaches out with kindness.
I felt strange as I stared down at the love note with my name attached to it. If I hadn't read my own name written in slick black cursive handwriting I would have assumed it was a mistake. No one saw me this way. And yet... the note was addressed to me. I had grown used to notes talking about my looks, but this noteâ no, it was too long to be a noteâ this letter was different. And that was the reason why I read it for what must have been the fifth time.
Allie,
Something tells me you are not a flower kind of girl. You are too practical for that. Flowers die fast and you have no intention of slowing down. You still have a whole world to conquer and are just getting started. So it didn't feel right to present you with flowers. Instead, I decided to find something strong and durable. Something that doesn't attract attention unless it wants it. That's what I think of when you come to mind. Someone strong who doesn't demand attention but deserves it.
I still have so many things I want to learn about you. I admire your work ethic, your strength of character, and your determination to fight for what you want. So I am taking a page out of Allie Winters' book and doing just that. I am going to fight to be seen in your eyes.
I look forward to getting to know you.
Sincerely,
Your secret admirer.
I stared down at the declaration, feeling betrayed as an old emotion reared her ugly head. Hope.
What if this one is different?
I killed the feeling by ripping the note into tiny pieces before throwing it in the trash. Love was a dangerous weakness. A distraction. One I couldn't afford.
Winters was a company I had built from the ground up with a pair of shoes. A beautiful pair of shoes that shocked the world by proving that high heels could in fact be comfortable AND affordable. So after finding a way to make pretty things affordable, Winters Fashion became a staple in the fashion industry with that as the foundation. Affordable fashion.
I didn't believe in dresses without pockets. High heels that left you bleeding. Or material that left you itching for freedom. NO. I was determined to create clothes that girls could wear all night on a date with ease. Clothes that didn't require a team of experts to put them in. Clothes that didn't leave someone needing dozens of bandaids and ice packs once the date was over. They say beauty is pain, but I didn't believe it had to be.
I believed that people weren't hangers for clothes. The clothes were supposed to highlight the beauty each individual had. Not the other way around. Curves were beautiful. Why pretend otherwise?
I walked to the closet I kept in my officeâ because which fashion office wouldn't be full of clothes?â And quickly changed into a pair of skinny jeans with zippers that ran up to my thigh on each side of the pant legs, a pair of red flats, and a white peasant blouse. After wrestling my wet hair into a side braid, I made my way back to my desk as a tentative knock hit my office door.
"Allie, you wanted Derik Lawson's fileâ," Susan said taking a small step through the door frame. Her eyes moved to the love hedge sitting in the trash can.
I raised a brow. "Are you going to bring it over here, or..." I waved my hand, waiting for her to finish my thought.
"Oh, right! Sorry." She blinked, yanking her eyes away from my love life represented in the garbage can, and dropped the file on my desk. She stood in front of me for a long moment, debating.
"Anything else?" I asked reading her hesitancy.
"I was wondering..." She bit her lip. "If you had a chance to look over the designs I drew up." She rushed through the rest, in a tone of apology. "I mean, if you haven't that's totally fine. And if they are not good, then I'm sorry, but any notes you have would beâ"
"Susan." She stopped talking and stared at the ground. "Do you believe in your work?" I asked.
She nodded as she continued to stare at the wood panel floor. She had been itching to move up at Winters, from my assistant to a role on the creative side. A month ago, she finally managed to work up the courage to ask me to look at her sketches.
"Use words Susan. It's a yes or no."
"Yes," she whispered.
"Look at me and say that," I pressed.
She looked up, a gleam of determination in her eyes. "Yes." The word sounded brittle, uncertain. But it was a start. If she was brave, I believed she could go far. She just needed to stop being so scared.
I nodded. "Then stand behind your work. Don't apologize for it."
I held up the file she had handed me. "I'll get to it. But I have to put out a fire first. Get Derik for me."
Susan couldn't seem to get out of the room fast enough. She looked nervous. Sharing your artwork was a personal thing. It was a sign of trust, a piece of yourself drawn out for others to see. I understood that. It was nerve-wracking asking your boss to look over your heart, offer advice and potentially tear it up while you watched, but even with her request, her jitteriness today was stranger than usual. She looked like I was going to bite her head off. I need to tell her to cut back on the coffee.
I stared down at Derik's file, a heavy groan filling my office with vocal dread. "I hate firing people."
I mentally prepared myself for the conversation. Firing someone on a Wednesday in the middle of the day was a terrible idea but based on what I had learned, he couldn't stay a minute longer.
Susan cleared her throat, pulling me from my thoughts as she reappeared at my door. "He um... he said he's not coming."
I tilted my head, trying to process her words. "I'm sorry?"
She looked away, trying to avoid being shot as the messenger stuck bringing me news I very much didn't want to hear. "He said to tell you he has too much work to have a chat in your office."
"Is he aware it isn't a suggestion?"
Susan nodded. I stood with a sigh, swearing internally. It's going to suck whether I talk to him in my office or at his desk.
I offered Susan a forced, hopefully encouraging smile, trying to work on my nice levels. "Why don't you take your lunch break?" I stopped when I reached the hall. "Oh and call security. I have a feeling we are gonna need them."
Susan's eyes went wide. "Really?"
I nodded. "Things are about to get messy." I'm gonna need a full freaking pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream tonight. No, not a pint. A 2.4 gallon tub.
As I walked towards Derik's desk, I tried to decide if knowing the exact size of the largest ice cream container that Ben & Jerry's carried was sad or impressive. I'll go with sad. Fits the mood.
"Derik," I said as I found the black-haired designer sitting with his feet up on his desk in our open floor plan office. He glanced up from where he sat watching Devil Wears Prada on his computer. He threw a skittle into the air and caught it in his mouth before looking up at me with a cocky smirk.
Other than the ridiculous man bun that he sported, which always tempted me to cut it free with scissors, the cocky smirk was the only other thing about him visually unappealing. He was handsome, but the kind of handsome that tended towards cruelty. A terrifying handsome that made you want to take a step back. To turn and leave a room. But I wasn't a girl who fleed, I stayed far after the welcome had worn off.
"She reminds me of you," Derik said motioning towards the screen where Miranda Priestly, the Editor and Chief of Runway was eyeing her assistant with a look of cold disappointment.
I looked from Derik to the computer, surprised by his lack of embarrassment at being caught watching a movie during work hours. "How so?"
"Miranda Priestly is all scary and shit. She walks around, striking fear into everyone around her." He popped another skittle into his mouth. "She fucks with everyone's minds."
"Analyze movies on your own time. We are going to have a meeting in my office."
He shook his head. "Nah, I'm busy. Thought Susan told you."
"This is busy?" I asked, voice cold.
He stretched, long arms landing behind his head as he leaned back further in his chair. I had the sudden temptation to tilt it a tad further and laugh when he undoubtedly hit the ground in comedic fashion. But I kept the temptation at bay... barely. "It's a mental health break."
"I don't think I made myself clear..." I took a beat to stay composed. I suddenly wanted nothing more than to put my kickboxing lessons to good use. To roundhouse kick him straight in the face. Gosh, I sound like my sister.
But kicking him would be frowned upon by HR even if he was a deserving asshole of a good roundhouse kicking. "It's not a request."
"Just tell me here," he replied, throwing another skittle into his mouth.
I bristled but kept my face emotionless. Just don't kill him. I started slowly. "Derik, you are a very talented employeeâ."
"Thanks, boss!" he said cutting me off and popping another skittle into his stupid mouth.
I paused, forcing my voice to come out even, and not in an angry shout. "BUT your time at Winters has come to an end. You have two minutes to grab your skittles, your jacket and leave."
I didn't wait for a reaction. I turned and walked away doing my best to keep a smirk from invading my lips. I heard his feet slip off the desk and hit the floor with a loud, angry slam. "WHAT THE HELL!?!" He howled. "YOU CAN'T FIRE ME!"
The office went quiet. Although an open floor plan was great for collaboration, it made private conversations outside of my officeâ the only one with a doorâ terrible. There was no privacy here. I turned back to Derik. "One minute and forty-five seconds, Derik."
His face grew splotchy with rage, a sharp contrast to his light blue eyes. "YOU UNFEELING BITCH!" I felt everyone's eyes on me as they all took in a collective breath. I felt the words hit me like a dagger in my chest. But I didn't flinch. I didn't so much as move. He wouldn't get that kind of satisfaction from me. He would never know that his words cut me.
"I'm the best designer you have!" He walked towards me, shoving over a mannequin covered in strips of cloth patterns. It crashed to the ground, the arms flying off and skidding across the ground. "You have no reason to fire me!" I looked from the mannequin up to Derik, unimpressed with his hissy fit.
"I was happy to have this conversation privately but since you insist on making a show, I will humor you..." I raised my voice, playing his game. If he wanted everyone to think he was being done an injustice, I was only too happy to let them all know why he was being let go. "You have been late on deadlines, you show up to work hungover..."
I held up the folder that Susan and brought me filled with HR complaints. My voice took on a dangerous edge. The complaints that HR hadn't bothered to tell me about. They were next on my list. "And you have been treating your fellow employees in an inappropriate manner. If people don't feel safe here then I have failed as a boss. So I have to fix things. You have to go."
"People are terrified of you." Derik countered. "By that logic you should be walking out the door with me."
I shook my head, willing my wild beating heart to stay focused long enough to get the words out. "You mistake respect with fear. Everyone here knows I expect perfection from them and of myself. But none of them are afraid of being left alone with me. None of them are afraid of what I will use my power for. I can't say the same for you. And I am fixing that, now."
I looked down at my watch for dramatic effect. The watch stopped working earlier this morning when doused with gallons of fire hydrant water. But he didn't need to know that. "Your two minutes are up." I spotted several security guards hovering nearby. "Please escort Derik Lawson out." I motioned them forward.
"I'll have your skittles, and jacket shipped to your house."
I turned and began to walk away again. But paused when a familiar noise filled the space between me and Derik. He was on the move. Not towards the exit, but towards me. I heard gasps and several cries of protest from my employees as he sprinted towards me.
Turning, I had just enough time to bring up my arms in a block before he could land a raging punch to my face. Then before he even had time to widen his eyes in shock at my block, I brought up my leg and kicked him in the chest, sending him falling backwards on his butt and sliding five feet across the floor.
He stared up at me stunned. I flashed him a dangerous smile. "Try that again, and I'll kick you with a pair of heels on. And believe me, that kind of cut will mess you up." Then turning, I walked to my office, ignoring my employee's dumbfounded stares. I yanked my office door closed behind me, locked it and I cut out the shocked whispers with it.
Slumping to the ground, I finally allowed myself to feel the words Derik threw at me. Unfeeling bitch... Fucks with everyone's minds... People are terrified of you...
His words became a tiltaworl. Swirling in my mind over and over until I found it hard to breathe. Cutting at my sanity, tattooing the words into my heart until they bled into my veins, making it hard to think of anything else. I wiped my eyes, with shaky hands, trying not to think about how close I came to getting punched. How if I hadn't gone out of my way to learn how to defend myself, he would have hurt me with more than just words.
I leaned my head against the door, allowing myself to finally break for a moment. Being strong in the face of adversity is a tricky thing. But when the fight is over, you have to give yourself room to break. Or else you won't have enough time to build yourself up stronger for the next time you are tested. And I knew this wasn't going to be the last time I broke. I was going to be a beautiful disaster by the time I was done.
Finally, feeling hollow and exhausted, I got to my feet, opened the door to my office, and got back to work, pretending that words didn't have the power to destroy me. Pretending to be stronger than I actually was. I had earned a reputation for it. And I refused to bend to trolls.
It was close to midnight by the time I had done enough work to feel like I could call it a day. The curse of the overachiever.
But when I reached for my car keys, I suddenly remembered I had no car. It had taken a bath of shame and was being fixed. Crap...
Sitting back down, I reluctantly pulled out the card that Convertible Guy gave me. I didn't want to take a Lyft or an Uber. The drivers seemed to always believe that I was desperate to talk. FALSE. I wanted silence after a day of fashion war. And today had been a terrible day of chaos.
I typed the number in on my phone, surprised when someone answered on the first ring at eleven-thirty at night. "Hi, I'd like to hire a driver for the next few weeks."
An elderly man named Brandon quickly quoted me their rates, put my information into their system, and promised to have their best driver at my location in fifteen minutes.
I could get used to this, I thought with a smile as I collected my things, pleased at how easy it had been to get a car service ready. After a small debate, I pulled the ridiculous love hedge out of the trash and took it with me. Better to have it die a slow painful death at home than at the office with Susan staring at it with sadness.
Walking out into the cool night air, I settled onto the curb, enjoying the fall evening breeze. Lone leaves flipped over themselves as they scatted down the sidewalk in tandem with the wind.
I spotted a slick black car pull up to the curb. "Allie Winters?" the driver asked.
"That's me." I moved to open the back door but stopped when the driver got out of the driver's seat to open the door for me. I did a double-take, jaw dropping open when a familiar face came into view. "No way!" I gasped. "CONVERTIBLE GUY?!? What are you doing here?"
Convertible Guy offered me an amused grin. "What does it look like. I'm driving you home."
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Thank you for reading chapter two! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes!
UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!
Is Convertible Guy actually her driver? Or is this some kind of prank?
If he is her driver, will she try to get a new one or settle for him?
What do you think of Derik? Do you think he will try to get revenge? Or will he just be terrible somewhere else?
CHAPTER QUESTION - If someone were being a total jerk to you, would you ignore it, or stand up for yourself?