The Cages You Build

Chapter sixteen~Making Plans

In the weeks leading up to Fashion Week, Mia found herself so busy, she couldn't speak to Mary as David had suggested. The Rauthbourne building thrummed with constant activity, dozens of people moving about in a calm but hurried fashion.

The design rooms were abuzz and Mia often found herself peeking in, even though she had no business in that part of the building. All she wanted was to get a look at the designers putting finishing touches on the dresses for the show. A pang of longing would hit her until she had to turn away. Some day, she told herself.

It was tough work. One haute couture gown alone could take about eight hundred hours or more to create-roughly three and a half months if a person worked on an eight-hours-a-day basis. Such tedious work deserved every cent it cost and Mia was no longer shocked to see dresses costing several hundred thousand dollars. She wondered how Dennis Savage was doing, given the tremendous workload he was carrying.

Though she hadn't spoken to Mary, she worked on more designs. It was exhilarating to pick up a pencil and sketch pad again. When she began working in Rauthbourne, she'd lacked the zeal to design. But ever since David encouraged her, she'd taken it up again. Bottled-up inspiration seemed to flow from her fingers and she used up every spare moment at home to make the images in her head materialize on paper.

She'd scoured the internet for tutorials on how to make her drawings look more "sophisticated", to give it a professional edge. She wanted them to be so good, no one-not even Mary-would be able to find fault.

She'd spent the past hour under Jasper's leery gaze, strangely grateful for Taraji's presence. Out of all the Cupids, only her and Taraji had been selected to participate in Fashion Week. The extra time together gave Mia a few glimpses of the enigma called Taraji Gidey.

She'd been a Cupid since the inception of the elite group, making her the oldest member. Cupids had come and gone but she'd remained. She was respected and Mia guessed that was the reason she was allowed to get away with a lot of things. Everyone knew smoking was a no-go area for models. Smoking is bad for the skin and a model's skin is her career, as well as her health. It would definitely take a toll on her, sooner or later. Yet no one corrected or dismissed her. Other models had been let go for lesser offenses. She spoke to Mary and other higher-ups with a casual insolence that would have gotten a lesser person fired.

Why she wasn't the queen could be chalked up to racial prejudice. They wouldn't let a black girl be their face. Gasp. The horror.

Mia shook her head as she strode down the corridor, folder in hand. Even after spending countless hours with her, she still didn't understand the woman. Climbing the stairs, she dodged a man descending with headless mannequins on his shoulders. She kept to the right wall, avoiding the flow of people going up and down the stairs. When she reached Mary's office, she knocked once before entering the outer office. The receptionist's corner was empty and she wondered if Mary was around, after all. Risking it, she knocked on the second door before pushing it open.

She was a little startled to find Anthony standing before Mary's desk, maybe because she'd rarely seen the man up close. Chagrined, she took a step back.

"I'm sorry to interrupt."

"Stay," Anthony said. "I was just leaving."

Mary looked like she begged to differ. For a rare moment, Mary looked embarrassed. Her hand lay fisted atop her desk and Mia thought she saw a dusting of pink on her usually pale cheeks. Must be the lighting playing tricks.

"So?" Anthony asked.

"I said i'll think about it," Mary said.

Mia tried to look like she wasn't paying attention to the stilted conversation but in reality, her ears were attuned to every nuance in their voices. Anthony said something inaudible and Mary's voice was barely a whisper as she responded.