Femme Empire

La Couer de la Flamme

"You know that you would look better if you drop that grumpy expression off your face.", my makeup artist told me for the hundredth time this afternoon.

Absolutely wrong thing to say to me today!

"Just do your damned job!", I snapped. Everyone looked up startled. Lola frowned as she came to stand by my side.

"Someone's bitter tonight.", she said softly.

The anger simmered in my veins. I was frustrated.

"You try sitting in this chair all morning being primped and prodded and waxed to every bit of your life. I have had designers, and makeup artists and photographers breathing down my neck all through the week. I had two photoshoots with Vogue, one to record the choosing of my dress and another for an interview of my Met appearance. It's been non-stop hassle.", I said exhausted from the burden of the week.

"It's good PR, Sana. This will only help shut up speculation in the press.", she reminded me.

" I was supposed to make one damn appearance. Now, I have got more media following than a bloody celebrity. You know I am not used to being everyone's Barbie doll. I hate not being able to have a say in all this.", I muttered. "I fucking hate it. "

Great! Now I was losing my composure in front of staff. The entire week had been a test of my limits with the hovering of an entire team of people. Moreover, Emir had very skillfully escaped the media frenzy by flying back to Istanbul for some allegedly 'urgent business'. Without him around, the responsibilities of managing the office fell on me and I had had some highly unsavory confrontations with Clementine, the other partner who was currently in New York here with me getting ready to attend the Met. It was a constant tug of war.

I would skin Emir alive the moment he came back for leaving me in this viper pit with no one to help.

Lola sighed squeezing my shoulders.
She too was going through hell, helping out as my assistant. Managing all the boutiques was way above her qualifications and pay grade but I would have no one else with me.

"When is he coming back?", I asked.

"His flight's supposed to landing in about ten minutes.", she said checking her watch. The hair stylist curled my hair. It had been dyed to a golden blond colour to match the celestial Venus of Botticelli's. My head ached from all the pulling and scratching and heat.

This evening couldn't be just starting! Time was crawling like a snail.

"Oh! God! How much more?", I asked impatiently.

"We just need to touch up your face and your body and then set it all together with a fixer. It will take twenty minutes maximum.", the makeup artist promised nervously.

" In twenty minutes, I want this ordeal to be over. I don't care how I look after this, I am not going to be a minute more in this chair!", I exclaimed.

Taking my phone to see if there were any messages, I saw Georgiana wishing me luck for the night. There was also Bree and Lara's message and a few from my former employees. Then of course, there were various magazines asking for interviews. Nothing from Ethan.

What mattered most to me was not here.

The stylist managed to finish the work in nineteen minutes. I apologized to her for being an absolute ass throughout the whole affair. It was hardly her fault that my life had become so topsy turvy.

It took three assistants to put me into the dress. The entire thing was enormous with a 20 feet crystal blue train. It fit exquisitely now that it had been altered to stick to my body like second skin. The beautiful pearls hung in necklaces all over the bodice and the sleeves. Though the corset was absolutely sheer, two steps away from see through, it was supportive. The hair stylist, had beaded more pearls through my hair in a waterfall cascade of vibrant red. My hair was untamed, blow dried and wild. The makeup had changed me from ordinary mortal to the sultry, dewy goddess of love. The slit revealed a sinous leg thankfully toned from running.