All Bad

39. Close To You

Nothing but a tear, that's all for breakfast
Watching you pretend you're unaffected
You're pulling our connections, expecting me to let you go
But I won't....
- Rihanna

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Brie's POV

I grabbed my Chanel purse and exited the room that housed the garments that we kept at Mariel's showroom. Locking the door behind me, I started down the hallway in search of the woman herself. My shift was over and I was under no obligation to check in with my boss before leaving for the day, but I wanted to confirm the location of the shoot with Lily Collins for her Elle cover we had scheduled for the next morning.

After looking in every place I could imagine to find Mariel, I stopped by the front desk and asked our main receptionist Abby where she was.

"Uhh, I think she's in a meeting," Abby answered me slowly as she looked through the day's planner. She ran her perfectly manicured index finger down the page as she searched for Mariel's location. It seemed like she was really straining her tiny brain with the task. "Yeah, she's out at a meeting."

"Ugh." I complained. "Can you please ask her to email the details of tomorrows Elle shoot?" I asked as I began heading for the door, "And get her to look over the final pieces in the closet when she gets back please."

I squinted in the sunlight once I stepped outside. I scanned the street, in search of one of Justin's car – it was unlike him to be late to pick me up.

I clicked my tongue impatiently. I was irritable today, more irritable than I usually was when there was a big shoot coming up.

Just as I got fed up of waiting under the glare of the piping hot Los Angeles sunshine and pulled out my Iphone to call Justin, Fredo pulled up.

"Hop in," Fredo called out to me, "Justin sent me to get you."

"Where is he?" I asked as I sat my purse on my lap and strapped myself into the passenger side.

"I don't know. When I talked to him he didn't say where he was at, he just said he was handling some things and would meet you back at the hotel."

I raised my brows, wondering what "handling some things" was supposed to mean. Communication between Justin and I still wasn't fluid so he hadn't informed me of any plans he had for the day. Instead of questioning Fredo further, I sank back into the seat and enjoyed the ride back to the hotel, all the while my mind tick-tocking. I wasn't sure how much more of this shit I could handle.

As soon as I got back to my temporary "home" I stripped off and made my way to the bathroom, in hope that a soak in the tub would relieve some of the days stress.

Once the large, white bathtub was full, I pulled my hair up into a bun atop my head and sank down into the warm, bubbly water. The sweet smell of the bubble bath was soothing to me; it reminded me of Sunday evenings as a kid, back when my things like bubble baths were luxuries, and if we were good my Mom would allow us to pour the strawberry-scented liquid in with the water and play in the bubbles it produced. I smiled at the memory.

When I was younger I had so badly wanted to be older, to be grown, to have a boyfriend that adored me like in those movies my Mom watched, and work in fashion... Now my dreams had come true and I felt like I was in hell. It was never supposed to be this way.

Thoughts of my Mom were tinged with guilt. I hadn't spoken to her for a while. I just didn't know what to say. I couldn't tell her about how things were going, she'd be so disappointed in me and the last thing I wanted to do was let my Mom down. It felt like I wasn't close to anyone that was important to me anymore and I didn't know how to mend it.