The Last Spark

Chapter 13

Emelia was swamped. She looked over from her desk to where Emily was sitting with her head in her hands. They were both on the brink of collapse.

With that, she picked up her phone and ordered them some caffeine.

"This won't do!" Emily shrugged. "We have the collection ready, but how are we to compete with all this social media nonsense and still hold our creativity safe from copycats???

"Look, I'm positive I can work with Gabrielle! We need someone with a small following within this circle! I'm sure there's a better way of getting media attention, but I do feel we don't need unwanted publicity. I honestly feel better with a smaller and more niche clientele rather than mass producing heartless products." Emelia reasoned with her.

"That actually makes more sense. Are you positive you can get the deal?" Emily looked at Emelia with a silent plea.

"Of course," Emelia said reassuringly. "Also, look at it this way: we get to keep our creative direction and aren't burdened with unreasonable pressures and demands." She continued "And honestly, we're making great profits! Sure, we can expand in some time, but let's not dip our hands in too many bowls just yet. We can incorporate more categories if we desire next year. How does that sound?"

Emily sighed out in relief as she trusted Emelia with her whole heart.

It was the day of the gallery opening. She said bye to Emily and made her way to her hair appointment. She had been contemplating changing her style and had settled on voluminous curls with a shorter cut. Her mother would be upset, but Emelia decided to go with it.

She was satisfied with how her hair looked. The cut had reduced the weight of her long hair and framed her face better. She went home and got ready.

Dressed in a red midi-length dress with lace-capped sleeves and dainty heels, she threw on her Schiaparelli cashmere coat. She picked up the keys to her Porsche and made her way to Claire's apartment.

xxxxx

Claire looked stunning in Emelia's creation. Her delicate features were enhanced by the expert cut of her dress. The sweetheart off-shoulder dress was one of her favorite designs. It always alleviated the wearer's beauty.

They walked together to the car, and Emelia drove to their destination. She rarely got the opportunity to drive while living in New York. She mostly walked, took the train, or hauled a taxi.

They made their way to the lower east side and soon pulled up to the gallery parking lot. Grabbing all her things, they walked out to the newly opened building. It looked incredible. The sculptures outside and shape of the building made her gasp as she carefully inspected them.

She then pulled out her phone and called her parents, who informed her that they were already inside. Emelia wound her arm through Claire's and went inside.

The space was filled with people she knew. Most of them were the parents of the friends she had grown up with. She quickly located her parents, who were chatting with an elderly gentleman, and walked over to them. Claire had already left her side when she spotted Paul looking around for her. He was cute, she admitted to herself.

"Hi everyone!" She interrupted the ongoing conversation and quickly introduced herself to the gentleman.

"Ah, please meet you, Emelia! I am Louie Pierre, the owner of this gallery! I am very grateful to your parents for donating their cherished art pieces. He beamed at her happily.

"Oh, I'm glad that you liked them. Some of them were my selection!" She replied and laughed at his pleasant expression.

"So, my dear daughter, how are the kids?" Her dad asked her, wiggling his eyebrows, and she laughed.

It was their inside joke. Betty and Archie were his grandkids through and through.

"They miss you!! You should come over soon," she smiled at him mischievously.

"These kids must be pretty young, right?" Louie asked her enthusiastically, and she laughed, then responded, "Yes, well, Betty is 2 and Archie is almost 9 months!"

"Goodness gracious, that sounds wonderful," he exclaimed, which caused her father to break character and guffaw with laughter.

Her father stopped laughing suddenly and turned towards her, and with his eyes going wide, he spoke loudly.

"Oh, my boy, Arron! What are you doing here?!"

And with that, Emelia's heart froze.