“We went our separate ways,” I admitted, fidgeting in my seat. It was still hard to come to terms with that fact. Every time I thought about it a wave of emotion washed through me. While I knew it had been the right thing to do, she still had a powerful hold on me.
Scarlett didn’t pry further, only nodded. The town car pulled over to the side of the street and the driver exited. He opened the door for me first and I slid out. For a minute I’d forgotten I was in heels and I wobbled. When I’d caught my balance, Scarlett was already taking off towards the nearby building. Another towering high rise. It took every ounce of concentration I had to catch up to her without face-planting on the concrete.
We rode up the elevator quite a length of time. Kylie Andrews was an up-and-coming fashion designer who had approached Scarlett to feature some of his work in an upcoming show sponsored by the blog. Had I gotten more warning of this escapade I would have done more research about him. All I knew was what brief information Andrea had told me. When we reached the doors to his studios, Scarlett turned towards me.
“Wait,” she instructed. I paused, and she drew near me. For a moment I wasn’t sure what would happen. She’d gotten so close I was glad I’d chomped a few breath mints earlier that morning. Her fingers came up to my collar, adjusting it. Before I had a chance to have an opinion about it, her hands moved to my waist, adjusting where I’d tucked in my shirt. She flattened it out carefully. When she’d finished, she looked up at me. I swallowed hard when our eyes met. A set of fingers reached out to brush a strand of stray hair out of my eyes. Then she smoothed a spot of makeup on my face. The touch of her fingers on my skin was electrifying.
“We can’t have you looking like a mongrel,” Scarlett said as she finished. I could feel my entire body trembling from her attention. When she turned away from me, I let out a long breath, trying to calm my beating heart. I followed as she entered the studio.
It was like a forest of clothing and fabric inside. A cluster of employees scattered when Scarlett entered. She was directed to a seat and fetched a coffee just the way she liked it. An Americano. An intern brought me one as well, and I thanked him. Scarlett handed me her portfolio when we sat in our seats. “Take notes,” she said, and I nodded, pulling a pen from my purse.
The way Scarlett behaved when she was in her element was reminiscent of an artist being immersed in a project. While I had no interest in fashion, nor any clue what was happening, it was still fascinating to watch. As Kylie demonstrated his latest line of work, Scarlett took in every detail. She’d let the models work, then inspect the clothes meticulously, running her hand over the fabric, eyeing every stitch. I wasn’t sure what to take notes on, so I scribbled down anything she said.
“This fabric? Chiffon? An interesting choice.” Scarlett ran her fingers down the skirt she was examining. My eyes followed them, imagining how they’d feel running over my cheek again. The thought made me shiver.
“It adds a magical element to the ensemble, I think. Very classic.”
“I’m not sure I approve of the colors you went with,” Scarlett commented, circling around the model. “And the chiffon with the silk. A little much, don’t you think?”
“I was going for a bold statement,” Kylie replied, in a somewhat defensive tone.
Scarlett met eyes with him while I scribbled down her comments. “It is definitely bold.”
Kylie waved in the next model. “Maybe you’d like our new Harem pants.”
The meeting continued into the afternoon. Kylie had prepared an array of pieces for Scarlett, most of which she rejected. While I did my best to keep up with notes, I couldn’t keep my attention from Scarlett for long. Every time I looked at her it seemed to get worse. If it wasn’t her pursed dark red lips, it was the way her long delicate fingers ran over the fabric. Or the sway of her hips as she moved around the room. Somehow I managed to turn my attention back to the notes I had been taking.
Scarlett loomed behind me again and for a moment I didn’t notice. That was until I felt her body pressing into my backside, her head looking over my shoulder. “I trust you’ve been paying excellent attention, Ms. Ross.” The way she spoke with her mouth so close to my ear made me nearly topple forward. Instead, I nodded. I watched as she took the page I’d been writing on from me and scanned it over. “This will have to be typed when we get back. This scribble is atrocious.” When the paper returned to me, I swallowed down a rebuttal, deciding it wasn’t worth the argument.
For the first few minutes of the ride home, Scarlett had me reiterate the products she’d decided upon for the fashion show lineup. There were five pieces total, all of which she seemed to agree with herself on after she’d thought about it again. After we’d gone through the last of the notes, I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. One I regretted.
“Is there a problem, Ms. Ross?”
“No problem,” I cleared my throat, doing my best to regain my composure. My face burned, embarrassed I’d drawn attention to myself in the way I had. Scarlett did not look the least bit amused, so I took a deep breath and explained myself. “I find it funny Kylie went through all this trouble to impress you and you barely liked anything he did.”
It seemed as if, for a moment, that Scarlett was shocked I’d questioned her. She didn’t seem angry, just surprised. Finally, her placid expression returned to her face. “Tell me then, Ms. Ross,” Scarlett said, leaning back into her seat and crossing her legs. The way she stared at me made me feel uncomfortable. “What would you have picked, had you been me?” As if she valued my ‘peasant’ opinion.
I sat for a moment, wondering if this was a test of whether I had been paying attention. Lucky for me, in spite of how distracting Scarlett was, I had focused on doing a good job. “I was rather partial to the Harem pants,” I admitted. When I said it, Scarlett’s mouth broke into a small smirk.
As soon as I’d made it back to my desk that afternoon, I returned six phone calls and sent two emails. After, I typed up the several pages of notes I’d written and printed off a copy for Scarlett. Papers in hand, I knocked on her door. It was nearing time for her to leave for the day. I heard her summon me from the other side of the door and I entered.
“Ms. Ross,” Scarlett said, leaning back in her expensive plush leather chair. “I was wondering if you would ever get me those notes.”
I stood in the doorway for a moment before I walked inside. Excuses flew from my mouth. “There were phone calls and emails—” I started, but I was interrupted by an outstretched hand. Clearly, Scarlett wanted nothing to do with my reasoning. My body moved swiftly to the edge of her desk and I handed the papers over. She looked through them before she nodded. When the room went silent, I rotated, heading back out. Scarlett cleared her throat, and I turned back to look at her. She was eyeing me.
“You’re staying late tonight,” she said. It wasn’t a question. I waited for an explanation. “The team in charge of the fashion show is preparing a proposal document. It won’t arrive until late, and I’ll need it for tomorrow. I’ll be out of the office until Friday, so I’ll have you drop it off at my home. I expect you can handle this.”
She wanted me to go to her house? I’m sure I was the envy of hundreds of girls who could only dream of stepping foot in such a fashion icons home. All I felt was anxiety, not wanting that much responsibility. I dared not to argue with her, however.
I watched as she held out a set of keys. “You’re to leave the proposal on my desk in my study. You’ll enter the condo and go to the second door on the left. Understood?”
Second door on the left. I nodded as I took the keys from her. We met eyes for a moment before she turned her attention back to paperwork on her desk. “That’s all.”
Scarlett left shortly after our brief meeting in her office. I couldn’t help but watch her as she walked by. The way her eyes wandered down me was intoxicating. I couldn’t quite understand why I craved her attention so much, but it thrilled me each time she noticed me.
W
hen I explained to Andrea what I had to do that evening, she looked flabbergasted. “She asked you to go to her house?” I nodded and Andrea scoffed at me. “Do you know how many employees have gotten to go to Scarlett Stones home while I’ve worked here?” I shook my head and Andrea continued. “None. Why on earth would she want you, of all people, to deliver that proposal?”
I honestly didn’t know. “It sounds like busy work.”
“Busy work...” Andrea seemed almost insulted that I’d called it that. “All I can say, is you best not mess it up, Natalia. Scarlett Stone’s house...” I watched as she faded off, thinking about the idea. Part of me wanted to suggest that Andrea could do it instead, but I assumed that Scarlett had wanted me personally to handle it. And the last thing I wanted was to disappoint her.
The proposal wasn’t ready till after eight. I’d fallen asleep at my desk when it came by way of a young intern I didn’t recognize. As soon as I had it in my grasp, I collected my things to go. Andrea, who always prided herself in staying late, had left an hour and a half ago. I was ready to escape the confines of this white prison and have a few hours of peace. Unfortunately, my time off was limited. Scarlett’s home was the complete opposite direction of my apartment. It would take me an hour to get there and back.
The penthouse condo was situated in another rather tall high rise building, in a part of Manhattan I wasn’t familiar with. After I’d checked in at the security desk, I made my way up. It took a good while before I’d gotten to the top floor. When the elevator opened, it was into a short hallway that ended at a living room. The view from the glass windows distracted me so much that for a moment I’d forgotten what I was there to do. Instead I made my way through the quiet, dark house, out into the lavish living space. The glass windows spanned in every direction, offering views of Manhattan everywhere you looked. City lights glowed on the walls. For a moment I was hypnotized.
When I came back to reality, I looked down at the envelope in my hand. The proposal. I was supposed to drop it off in her study. As I walked my way down the hallway, I counted doors until I’d made it near the front. Two doors on the left. I turned, facing the second-most one from the elevator. My hand slid around the doorknob. When it opened, I was surprised to find that it wasn’t a study at all, but a linen closet.
While I stood frozen in the hallway, I looked inside. If I’d been thinking clearly, I would have shut the door and walked away. I wouldn’t have noticed the hooks on the back of the door and the half dozen whips that hung from them. I didn’t know their names, but I recognized most.
Curiosity got the best of me and I pulled a long thin one off the backside of the door. It had a rubber handle on one end and a leather tip on the other. When I studied it for long enough, I recognized it as a jockey whip. I couldn’t recollect the actual name.
After I set the proposal on a table across from the closet, my hand ran down the length of the whip, inspecting it. My mind wondered why Scarlett had such devices tucked away in a closet though I could only draw a limited number of conclusions. Just as I was hanging it up on the hook, the elevator dinged down the hall.
My heart exploded in my chest. The whip clattered to the floor of the closet, but I didn’t care, slamming the door shut frantically and reaching for the proposal. Just as I did, the elevator opened. Scarlett stood a few feet in front of me, studying me.
“You have the proposal?” She asked, and I nodded. Something about her seemed off, like she was in a bad mood. I could feel the beads of sweat rolling down my body. My chest ached in pain, my heart was racing so fast. We stared at each other for a moment as she approached. Every step she made caused my anxiety to be that much worse. Finally, when she reached me, I handed her the document. We exchanged another brief glance before I rushed around her towards the elevator. It opened for me when I reached it.
Once I was inside, I turned back to look at Scarlett once more. She was eyeing me curiously. “Goodnight Ms. Ross,” she called out. I was surprised she acknowledged me further. I could still tell that that something was certainly bothering her. Even still, my anxiety begged me not to stay any longer.
“Goodnight Ms. Stone,” I breathed, as the elevator doors shut in front of me.
Chapter Four
DESPITE SCARLETT’S absence, the next few days blurred around me. There was so much to do, I had little time to think about the events that had occurred at the penthouse. Instead, my mind raced with project deadlines, preparations for the fashion show that was approaching, and every mind-numbing task Andrea could dream up for me to do.
When Friday came, I woke up excessively early. The thoughts that had escaped my mind the entire week had resurfaced. I laid staring up at the ceiling for a long time, not able to accept that I had to go face Scarlett that morning. If she hadn’t been intimidating enough, now it was a hundred times worse.
At six, my phone rang. Andrea, as I’d predicted, with the coffee orders, a dry cleaning pickup, and instructions to pick up a variety of fashion magazines on my way in. I took down the orders and when I’d finished, I scurried from bed to get ready. The entire week I had done my best to try and blend in at the office. Today was no different, but I made a point to look like myself. Impressing Scarlett would only draw unwanted attention and it was the last thing I needed today.
“Let me take those,” Andrea said when she met me at the doors. She relieved me of the coffees, calling out their arrival once we’d entered. When they disappeared, I retrieved mine and Andrea followed me to my desk. The office seemed the busiest it had been all week. With Scarlett having been absent, there was far less tension abound.
“You’ll want to mark the pages in the magazines I have outlined for you here,” Andrea said, handing me a piece of paper. I reached for it, stacking it on top of the pile of periodicals I had in my hands. “Scarlett likes them color coded, so I labeled them accordingly. These need to be finished before she gets here and set on her desk.”
I looked to the clock, realizing I had less than ten minutes. “Andrea, that’s not enough time to do all of this.”
“I suggest you work quickly then,” Andrea replied, turning away from me without another word. I sighed, falling into my seat and setting off to work. I got through it faster than I expected and I managed to label and organize everything with a few seconds to spare. I trotted off into Scarlett’s office, setting out the magazines in their proper order on her desk. Just as I was about to leave, I heard the door open. When I looked up, Scarlett was staring across the room at me.
“Ms. Ross,” she said, her usual expression on her face. I skirted around her desk, making haste towards the door. A wave of heat burned my cheeks when I shot a short glance at her.
“I was just leaving,” I replied. As I made my way around her, I felt a hand wrap onto my shoulder. I froze, a violent chill running through me.
“I’d like your opinion on something,” Scarlett spoke, releasing her grip on me and heading towards her desk. I could sense the blood rushing from my face, but I turned towards her, anyway.
“My opinion?” I echoed, unable to move.
“Sit,” Scarlett instructed me, waving at the seat in front of her desk. “And shut the door.”
My heart raced yet again as I pushed the door closed and made my way towards her. Scarlett must have sensed my hesitation because it sparked a remark.
“I haven’t got all day, Ms. Ross. Chop chop.”
I fell into the seat and sat up straight. While I couldn’t make direct eye contact with her, I managed to observe where her hands moved. They wisped over the magazines I’d been working on, opening to one of the labeled pages.
“These were all marked according to my requests?” Scarlett asked, and I nodded. When I did, she turned a page towards me. It was a news story about a local New York designer, with photos of his work. “I want you to search through these articles and pick the ones you think are best. You’ll have it done before lunch.” Scarlett shut the magazine and handed me the rest in a neat stac
k. I watched as she fidgeted with them until they were all even and concise. As soon as she’d finished, I picked them up off the table. “That’s all.”
The moment I made it out of the office, I could breathe again. I settled back into my seat, setting off to work rooting through the magazines. It was a wonder I got through everything, given how many times I was interrupted by phone calls and emails and chores from Andrea. By a quarter till noon, I’d picked out five articles I’d liked. Scarlett seemed to have an affinity for the number five, so I decided it was a good number to go with. If she wanted more, I had a few backups in mind.
As much as I didn’t want to knock, I found the courage, anyway. It took a moment, but she called out for me to enter. When I’d made it inside, she was on the phone.
“Tell her this is the last I’m going to put up with this nonsense,” Scarlett snapped. “I’m tired. This needs to end. She can have whatever she wants, so long as we can be done with this.” For a moment I had half a mind to leave, but Scarlett motioned for me to hand her the magazines. Our hands touched as they were passed off and it sent my stomach into fits.
“I’ll speak with you tomorrow. Thank you, James.” Scarlett did not appear happy when she hung up the phone. I watched as she took a deep breath sitting back in her chair.
Scarlett’s hands wisped through the pages I’d marked, looking over each article.
“Explain why you picked this,” Scarlett asked, looking at the first marked page.
“It’s a profile on a new designer, famous for her fishtail skirts. If I remember right that’s a design in the fashion show. I assumed it was relevant.” While I spoke, I fidgeted in my seat.
Scarlett looked up at me for a moment. When we met eyes, I looked away, focusing my attention out the window of the high rise. “Is there a problem, Ms. Ross?”
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