30

Chapter 30
Arin
The second I sign my contract with Miriam, things move at break-neck speeds. Most of the time, I’m as lost as a dinghy caught in a massive monsoon. Thank God Miriam has my back.
“Okay, babe. I’m gonna go quick, so stop me if you need me to repeat myself,” she says as we walk and talk.
I feel like we’re always walking and talking whenever I visit her at her downtown office location. Poor Johnny has to chase us around at all times, surprisingly inept at keeping pace with us despite the fact that we’re wearing stiletto heels.
“I’m going to get your website set up by tonight, along with various social media accounts. It’s important that we set up your internet presence as soon as possible to give your brand an even greater air of legitimacy.”
I nod along, mentally keeping notes. We’re on our way to a go-see in a rented studio a few blocks away from Central Park. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to remind myself I’m not dreaming. I’m going to a go-see as a client. Models are going to be wearing my designs, walking up and down in a straight line to show off their walks to try and impress me.
I better be careful not to let this all go to my head.
“I’m in the process of renting a venue,” Miriam says. “It’s on the smaller side, but I wanted to see what you thought about putting a massive mirror behind the runway?”
“It’ll give the illusion that the runway is twice as long,” I realize aloud, excitement filling me.
“Precisely. Like a Palais De Versailles situation.” “Love it. I’m on board.”
“Now, how many models do you think you’ll need?”
“Well, I’ve got a collection of a hundred pieces,” I inform her. “I don’t think we have the budget nor the space to hire a hundred individual models.”
Miriam shakes her head, chuckling. “We don’t.”
“Okay, then how about we hire twenty-five. They can do quick changes in the back four times and that’ll rotate through my collection.”
“Love, love, love it,” she says, her thumbs speedily taking notes on her phone.
We finally arrive at the studio in question. On the outside, the building appears unsuspecting and plain. It’s nothing but grey concrete and frosted windows, making it hard to see inside. Once inside, however, it’s a different story. It’s incredibly well-lit with tall ceilings and polished hardwood floors. The large room is sectioned off into two spaces, a holding area for the models and an actual work area just past a row of moveable clothing racks full of my dresses.
The moment I walk into the room, the air shifts. All eyes are on me. At least two hundred different women are here, all gorgeous and tall and… thin.
There’s nothing wrong with being a skinny model, but I expressly told Miriam that my line is intended for people of all shapes and body sizes and skin tones. Unfortunately, it looks like New York’s finest modeling agencies have only sent me their tallest, thinnest, and fairest.
“Um, I think we have a problem,” I whisper to Miriam as we take our seats behind a fold out table. My look book has already been laid out for me, several pens and papers for taking notes at the ready.
“What’s wrong?” she asks me, quickly settling into her own chair.
“I was hoping for a little more diversity when it came to the models,” I say, making sure to keep my voice low. “Don’t get me wrong, they’re all very pretty, but…”
“I totally get your meaning,” Miriam says, nibbling on the endcap of her pen. “I was very specific in my casting call, but many models have already been booked out in advance to prepare for Fashion Week. These are the ones who could come on such short notice.”
I grimace. “I was afraid of that.”
“Don’t worry, Arin. We’ve got plenty of time. I’ll send another note to casting and tell them to broaden their search substantially. For now, though, let’s see how many of these models will work for your vision.”
“Okay, I can work with that.” I turn a little to look at Johnny. He’s been standing this entire time. “Do you want to take a seat?”
“I’m alright, Ms. Wilson. Gotta stay, uh… alert and stuff. Boss’s orders.” “Alert and stuff? Johnny, just take a seat, okay? This might take a while.
If a model tries to stab me with her heel or something, then you can do what you gotta do.”
Johnny shifts his weight from foot to foot, pausing for a moment to consider. It doesn’t take him very long to relent, occupying the seat behind us.
“I’ll call the first girl in,” Miriam says with a smile.
There’s a method to all the madness. Every woman that comes in has roughly seven minutes allotted to them. They come in wearing big smiles and offering polite greetings. They give their name, their height, and the agency they’re with. Then Miriam asks them to show us their walk.
It takes a moment for me to get used to it. The walking. Because it’s not really walking. Nobody in their right mind would be caught in the streets of New York strutting their stuff like this, yet in the world of high fashion, it makes so much sense.
Some girls are absolutely mesmerizing, the easy sway of their hips and their relaxed posture and their expressions that scream ‘Yeah, I’m real fucking gorgeous so keep your eyes on me.’ The pose at the end of the walk before smoothly turning to sashay away fascinate me.
And then there are the trainwrecks. Most of them are newbies and doing their darndest not to snap their ankles in six-inch heels. Some flail, some trip. One poor woman falls flat on her ass. I feel downright awful for her, but she has enough grace to laugh it off. She’s got a lovely personality, and while she isn’t quite what I’m looking for, I genuinely hope she has a successful career. By the end of the day, I’ve selected ten of the twenty-five models I’m looking to hire. Deep down, I’m anxious. Hopefully I can hire everyone I need well before the actual show. I need to account for fittings and adjustments, not to mention rehearsal time. All in all, we’re making good
progress.
And one of the loudest thoughts in my brain is how excited I am to tell Dominic all about it.
By the time I get home, Lana is in the middle of cleaning Felicia up after dinner. I swoop in to give my daughter a big kiss before giving my best friend a hug.
“Thank you for agreeing to watch her,” I say.
“Are you kidding? I’d rather be her full-time babysitter than wait on tables all day for chump change. Your man’s already paid me for the entire
month.” She bumps her hip against mine. “You’re one lucky duck, Arin.” “I feel lucky.”
“How’d it go today?”
I can feel myself on the edge of word-vomiting, but I don’t care. “It was amazing. I had some of the models try on my dresses and it was probably the most magical thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
Lana laughs as she wipes Felicia’s hands with a washcloth. “You see your dresses all the time.”
“I know, but it’s different getting to see them actually on someone. Like how an author feels seeing their books in a store, or a director seeing their movie up on the silver screen. It’s just more… Tangible? Real?”
“I’m glad, babe,” Lana says with a genuine smile. “Seriously, I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks. Do you need someone to give you a ride home?”
She glances at Johnny, who’s stationed himself at the front door. He never enters farther than the main hallway, as per Dominic’s instructions. I’m glad he’s taking the work/personal life separation so seriously.
Lana shakes her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. I can tell she has a lot of questions, but she doesn’t ask anything. She gives me one final hug before heading out. “I’ll see you both tomorrow, okay? Take care of yourselves.”
I don’t know why it feels like a warning, but it does. “See you tomorrow,” I say softly as she leaves.
“Mommy!” Felicia giggles as I pick her up. “When’s Daddy home?
Wanna story.”
I look at Johnny. “You mean he isn’t back yet?”
“Apologies, Ms. Wilson,” he says, hands clasped before him respectfully. “It seems that Signore Costello is stuck in a meeting. Would you like me to relay a message?”
I shake my head despite the sting of disappointment in my chest. “No, I’m… I’m sure he’s got a lot on his plate right now.”
Johnny nods politely. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
Despite how tired I am, I go through the usual process of getting Felicia ready for bed. I help her take a bath, brush her teeth, and change her into her cute cat-themed pajamas. The story she chooses tonight is a classic: Goldilocks and the Three Bears.
“They’re like us,” she comments, pointing at the illustrated picture of the
bear family going for their walk. “Papa Bear, Mama Bear, and Baby Bear.”
I smile gently, noticing how right she is, except… Except our Papa Bear isn’t here right now, too busy with work. I’m not going to lie, it’s upsetting. I thought Dominic would be around to spend a little more time with us. I yearn for us to be together as a whole family, but I have a weird sinking feeling that I might be asking for too much. Am I being selfish? I know I can’t have one hundred percent of his attention, but surely, he could at least be home for dinner, right?
After Felicia falls asleep, I head into my bedroom and browse through my closet. I’m feeling restless tonight. As I sift through all the outfits Dominic so graciously purchased for me, my thoughts begin to drift. I wonder what he’d say if he saw me in the pink Chanel day dress on my hanger, or maybe the tight Versace number next to it. Or maybe…
If I wore next to nothing at all.
An idea pops into my head. Maybe Dominic not getting home until later is a blessing in disguise. At least this way, I’ll be able to surprise him when he returns.
Slipping quietly into my studio, I browse through the private collection of lingerie that I’ve been working on in my free time. They’re considerably faster to make compared to dresses—there’s a lot less fabric to deal with— but no less complicated. There’s something incredibly enjoyable about experimenting with cuts and different types of accents.
Obviously, putting them on is what makes them super fun.
When I spot one particular barely-there number made of red velvet, I let out a wicked little giggle. Dominic will lose his damn mind when he sees me in this. I pick it off the rack and skip off to my bedroom, quickly changing. It’s soft against my skin, but awfully drafty. Sometimes you have to brave being a little cold if you want to reach a level of peak sexy.
I throw on my bathrobe before sneaking out, tiptoeing down the hall to Dominic’s bedroom. I lay down on his bed, squeezing my knees together at the thought of him coming home to find me like this—a meal ready to be devoured.
Now all I have to do is wait for my man to come home and make him regret taking so long.