Lucky in Love?

by Briggs, Laura

  Make big moves today. Start making your future goals reality.

  *****

  Today was a green light day. Or so it seemed, since Myri's bus zipped through traffic with a speed she had never before experienced in the morning rush. She balanced her coffee in one hand, the other holding her new beaded handbag. Which had already drawn more than one compliment.

  At work, she checked the messages on her desk and tossed her paisley scarf onto the chair. Her eye caught a glimpse of a psychic calendar given to her as a gag gift last Christmas. Every step you take is a leap ahead today. Her smile grew puzzled, remembering the horoscope from the morning paper. Shaking her head, she lifted her coffee and hurried towards Johann's morning fitting.

  As usual, the designer was in a mood. A bad one, involving a design gone awry after Lis issued new mandates.

  Myri took a long sip of coffee as she fumbled through a pile of lace on a work table. Johann had demanded a waist-length strip, with two fashion assistants busy pinning the skirt according to his specifications.

  "Do we have anything in more of a crimson?" she asked, digging through the layers of color.

  Despite the chaos, her blood seemed like jet fuel racing through her veins, pushing her to the limit. She told herself it was just the coffee. A little extra caffeine zipping through her veins.

  One of the seamstresses snipped it off as she pulled it from the reel. "Will that please him? Or should we find a second color?" The woman's sneering tone implied a recent run-in with the difficult designer.

  "Nope, this is fine." Myri looped it around her arm and hurried off towards the fitting room. Where Johann's voice echoed as he barked last-minute orders at the model Martina whose pouf skirt was suddenly objectionable.

  "Here you go," she said, tossing the length to Johann, who fastened it like a belt above the heavy rutched fabric.

  "Perfect?" hinted one of his assistants.

  "The skirt should be a little higher." Lis was watching the scene from the doorway when Myri turned around. "Is Gema prepped for the shoot?" the boss asked, speaking over her shoulder to her assistant, who had just hurried up with an overstuffed portfolio.

  "Yes, she's waiting in the studio for you and Johann," said the assistant, thumbing through her electronic schedule.

  "This time, Myri takes charge of a shoot," Lis said, with one of her rare smiles as she glanced at Myri before moving on. Feeling a burst of butterflies in her chest, Myri caught a glimpse of Johann's shocked face before she gathered her things and hurried off to the photo shoot.

  Model Gema was posing in a luxurious satin gown against a backdrop of tropical palms and twilight sky. Across from her, Gabe was positioning his camera. He turned towards the entrance at the sound of her heels, his face lighting up with surprise.

  "Good morning," she said. "Mind if I watch?"

  "Not at all." He gestured towards a chair, one she recognized from Johann's previous shoots. She shook her head.

  "I prefer to stand," she answered. Adjusting Gema's shoulder strap so it slipped lower, voluptuously in the pose. She smoothed the wrinkles from the waistline of the dress before stepping back.

  "Now do your magic," she said to Gabe. Arms crossed, a little smile of challenge on her face.

  He laughed. "Do you always order photographers around like that?" he asked.

  "Only if I'm in charge of the shoot," she answered. Enjoying the look on his face as she turned to adjust the train of the dress.

  "Congratulations," he said, with a warm grin. "Sounds like you're moving up the ladder."

  She shrugged as she moved beside him at the camera. "I think that sounds a little bland coming from someone who doesn't need ladders in his life," she said. "Didn't you buck the traditional runway shoot to photograph the stars in the Colorado sky?"

  "True," he said. "Sort of. I think the streets of Paris are a pretty glamorous photo shoot; so maybe I can't claim the uncharted path title yet. But," he added, "just because you make a start in someplace, doesn't mean you'll stay there. Maybe you'll be the fashion designer who breaks the mold. Who knows?"

  "Who knows?" she answered. Hiding a smile as she watched him work.

  Halfway through the shoot, the door opened and a woman peered inside. "Is Lis here?" she asked.

  "No, sorry," said Myri. "She's in a creative design meeting this morning." As she drew closer, she recognized the delicate face framed by smooth hair, the graceful form in the silk dress. Kit Wilsh, one of the top models in the city.

  "Hi," breathed Myri, holding out her hand. "I saw your last photo shoot. The perfume ad was amazing..."

  "Thanks," smiled Kit. "That was the ad that convinced Lis to have me model her latest gown." She glanced towards the ongoing shoot, where Gema and Gabe were wrapping up the final shots.

  "You're one of Lis's designers, right? I've seen you here before," said Kit. "I'm guessing you designed the little off-the-shoulder number I see here," she said, gesturing towards Myri's clinging pink dress.

  "Correct," blushed Myri. "Except I'm an assistant. But I love creating my own designs."

  Kit opened her purse and drew a card from inside. "I'm having a party tonight around eight," she said. "At my agency's building. You're more than welcome to join us," she said. "Come and meet some of the faces in the business, so to speak. I would say your work has potential."

  "Thank you." Myri held the card in her hand as if it were a magic gift from a genie. It was impossible for this moment to be real, but it was.

  "Bring a friend if you want," said Kit, snapping her purse closed.

  "Maybe so," answered Myri. Unable to help the glance that wandered in the direction of Gabe Miller.

  A scarf decorated with four-leaf clovers was draped across Myri's desk when she stopped to retrieve Johann's latest designs. Another sign of good luck, she couldn't help thinking, as she fingered the fabric gently. Was this what Bette called "good karma?" A lucky streak, like sports players experienced?

  Whatever it was, the last thing she expected was to end her day at one of the most prestigious and private cocktail parties in the city. With Gabe waiting for her outside her building when she emerged in the apricot chiffon dress she designed.

  Beneath white orb lights and twinkling strands, Kit's party was an array of finger foods and Oriental rugs, perfectly-manicured plants on display as if guests were mingling in a spacious arboretum.

  "Wow," said Gabe. "Quite a scene, isn't it? I'm beginning to wish I'd brought my camera."

  "You should have," said Myri, slipping through the doorway. "Although you'd have to sign a release if you photographed anyone famous." Giving him a playful smile as she drew him inside behind her. Skin tingling at the first feeling of his hand in hers.

  With a deep breath, she plunged into the group containing the first familiar face. Johann waving a glass of champagne as he shared a story with a group of younger designers.

  "Well, if it isn't Lis's newest toy," he said, greeting Myri. "So you had your first taste of supervising a shoot. I warn you, Lis is an absolute monster if the shots are unflattering."

  "I know," Myri answered. "But I'm prepared to take the good with the bad. For the sake of my fashion future, that is."

  Johann glanced at Gabe. "New photographer, aren't you?" he said. "The one from the great outdoors?"

  "That would be me," Gabe answered. With a smile of amusement for the designer, who was obviously unimpressed.

  "Is Lis here tonight?" asked Myri, glancing around the room. "I wanted to thank her for giving me a chance today."

  "You'll have to fight through the crowds that way," Johann answered, waving his hand towards a cluster of eager conversationalists near the back of the room. "She's holding court with the famous Kit over the fall line."

  "Then I think I'll wait," said Myri. As she slipped past Johann and his friends, moving in the direction of the window open to the city skyline.

  The curtains were parted to reveal the glowing lights of the city as she lingered there, just
outside a group of designers loudly exchanging stories. In the faint reflection of the panels, she caught a glimpse of her dress fabric, glowing in the low light.

  "Do you want me to beat a path through the crowd for you?" asked Gabe. "I'm more than willing." He peered into her face, his eyebrows raised questioningly. Teasingly, she was certain–but she turned aside so he couldn't see the blush on her cheeks.

  "No, I'm good, thanks," she answered. "Just admiring the view outside. Just feeling ... I don't know. A little content. Maybe it's the atmosphere," she laughed. "The lights, the flowers ..."

  "Kind of romantic?" he suggested. Leaning closer, his breath stirring her hair faintly. She turned towards him, meeting the blue eyes mere inches from her own.

  "Maybe a little," she answered. Traces of the same dusky cologne from the cab drifted close to her, making her knees tremble for a moment. Her thoughts flashed to the horoscope's words. Make bold moves today.

  Without thinking about it, she reached up to brush his lips with her own. A brief kiss as his responded, her lips tingling as a bolt of adrenaline raced through her veins. As if their kiss was an electric connection, a spark kindled between them.

  "I'm sorry," she said, pulling away suddenly. "That must seem a little sudden–" she began, her face turning crimson as she stammered.

  "No, it's okay," he said. "Really, it is." A slight tremor in his voice–nervousness? Or attraction? She wasn't sure, but the possibilities made her feel dizzy. As the wave of adrenaline crashed into this surreal moment between them.

  "I guess I should go pay homage to my boss," she said. "Want to come along?" Her eyes remained locked with his, as if afraid the answer would be no.

  "Absolutely," he answered. His fingers interlaced with hers as they moved towards the crowd of admirers around Lis and Kit.

  There was definitely such a thing as good karma, Myri decided. No other way to explain this moment of magic.

  *****

  Myri's hand fumbled as she screwed the cap onto her toothpaste. The plastic lid bounced off the side of the sink and rolled into the drain below.

  "Great," she groaned. Fishing it out, she tossed it in the garbage with a shudder at the thought of its germs. She would seal the tube in a storage bag before she would use that again.

  With a sigh, she glanced into the mirror. Dark circles were slightly visible below her eyes, a sign that her four a.m. return to the apartment provided less sleep than she needed for this morning. But the glamour of having a casual one-on-one conversation with Kit over her design vision was too much to resist. And the feeling of Gabe's mouth against hers had sent adrenaline surging through her to the point that sleep was impossible for hours afterwards.

  She ran a brush through her hair, then slipped on a sweater dress and looping pearl necklace, fishing around for her favorite pair of flip-flops. Only one emerged from the closet, the second one nowhere to be found. Shoving her feet in her sandals, she flipped through the paper for the fashion section, her eye lingering briefly on the Sagittarius entry in the horoscope column. Just out of curiosity, she told herself.

  Don't push towards the future too hard; small things become big things, so read the signs around you.

  She flipped the paper closed and grabbed her coffee thermos as she hurried towards the bus. Slipping through the doors just in time, her eye roving over the crowded bus for a potential seat. Nothing. Clinging to the pole, she balanced herself against the jolts of traffic.

  Someone laughed in one of the seats. "Looks like bad luck ahead," he said to his friend as the bus passed beneath a ladder track swinging towards a power line box, a tangle of tree branches from the city park.

  The bus jolted a second later; the lid popped off Myri's thermos, sending a wave of coffee over her dress. With a shriek, she tried to edge away from the hot liquid now burning through her dress to her skin.

  "Here," said a fellow passenger, shoving a paper napkin into her hand. She daubed at the dress several times before she discovered signs of the smear of jam left inside from the passenger's donut.

  There were stain treatments at work, though. She pulled open the drawer of her desk and fished a packet out as she sat down. Rubbing it into the knit fabric, she glanced up and caught sight of the psychic calendar pinned to the lamppost. Take care that small disasters do not become future catastrophes.

  A coincidence. She sucked in her breath, glancing away from the words. Half-expecting to see a black cat strolling along the windowsill. Instead, she saw Lis’s assistant approaching.

  “There’s a problem with the shoot,” the girl began timidly. But she didn’t need to say anything else. Myri had already sprung from her chair and hurried towards Lis’s office.

  The designer was sitting behind a pile of fabric, leafing through photos. Storm clouds gathering on her face with each one as Myri entered.

  “Did you think it was a good idea to pose Gema like a bodybuilder?” Lis held up a photo of the model, hands on her hips with a wide stance.

  “I was thinking ...” Myri began, “ ... well, of classic advertisements. The long and lean pose for formal gowns.” A sudden timidity crept into her voice as she clasped her hands behind her.

  “Half of these shots are absolute garbage,” Lis answered. “Her seductive pose looks rigid, her neckline is crooked in at least two, and you failed to remind the photographer that it’s the dress we’re interested in flattering the most, not Gema’s profile.” She tossed the photos onto her desk.

  “I’m sorry,” said Myri. Her boss snorted.

  “You’d better be. If you want another opportunity at this kind of thing. Now call Johann and have him fit Gema for a second shoot, pronto. I want that dress in the most flattering light possible and flawless. Is that understood?”

  “Absolutely,” Myri answered. Without asking, she knew who would be in charge of this shoot. Johann, the senior designer on staff, would undoubtedly be the one adjusting Gema’s gown and making certain the majority of her poses flattered its cut.

  Lis’s words burned in her thoughts as she made her way towards Johann’s fitting room. She could have begged for a second chance, but something stopped her–was it common sense, or a sense that today was a step back from her progress? As if there was something true in that horoscope prediction.

  Nonsense. Absolute nonsense. She repeated this to herself mentally as she walked, envisioning this incident as nothing more than one of Lis’s contrary moves. Her shoulder brushed against a leather sleeve, breaking her train of thought as she turned towards the passing figure.

  “For a moment, I thought you weren’t going to say hi.” Gabe grinned, his camera slung over one shoulder. Myri’s face flushed hot at the sight of him standing there, the faint five o’ clock shadow on his jaw reminding her of his late evening before.

  “Hi,” she breathed, willing herself not to think about his arm around her shoulders as he walked her home to her apartment. The way his face lingered so close for a moment, as if to reach for a second kiss before he slipped down the stairs again.

  But reality was far from the romance of that moment, with her scolding from Lis and coffee-stained dress from the morning bus ride.

  “I’m sorry I can’t talk,” she said, “I have to see Johann–fashion emergency.” She held the photos of the unsatisfactory shoot to block the stain on her skirt. “Lis wants to re-shoot some of Gema’s photos from yesterday.”

  He nodded. “I’m available if she wants me to take them,” he said, “as soon as I meet with somebody to drop off these prints.”

  He hesitated, as if to say something more, but she didn’t let him. “See you later,” she said, hurrying towards Johann’s office again before he could stop her. As if she was afraid one more minute’s conversation would destroy the magic of the other evening.

  Small things become big catastrophes. Not if she could help it. Especially not where Gabe was concerned. But since it was all nonsense it didn’t matter. Did it? For once, she felt a fleeting urge to carry a lucky ch
arm in her pocket to ward off disaster. As if a four-leaf clover kept mistakes at bay.

  Johann was pleased with the re-shoot–as his expression made clear as Myri brought him up to speed on Lis’s changes. Almost gleefully, he was on the phone with one of his assistants, arranging a two-hour shoot with a photographer.

  She needed some air; a change of scenery, a moment to herself. Taking the stairs to the lobby, she pushed open the door, thinking about the coffee shop down the street. A little caffeine perk would clear her head of these crazy thoughts.

  Taking a couple of steps in its direction, she hesitated. Didn’t the horoscope say little decisions became big disasters? Maybe this was one of them.

  Nonsense. It wasn’t true, any of it. She took another step forward, then hesitated. Feeling a strange sense of foreboding. She turned towards the lobby door again.

  There was a shout from somewhere, followed by a crash behind her. The gasps and shrieks from passer-bys made her whirl around to see a pool of yellow sprayed across the pavement, a crushed paint can in the middle.

  “Sorry about that!” called a voice from somewhere above. A paint crew touching up the trim on the building’s mural, their bucket landing squarely in the spot where moments before she had been standing.

  “That was a lucky escape for that lady,” one of the watchers murmured as the sidewalk traffic began moving again.

  As for Myri, she remained frozen with her fingers on the door handle.

  *****

  “Are you sure you don’t want to eat at the Italian place on Central?” asked Shawn. “I was really feeling the urge for some pesto.” She lagged several paces behind Myri and Bette, complaining that her feet were killing her from wearing a pair of high heels to perform, instead of her usual boots. Since her car was in shop, they were forced to walk from the bus stop to their lunch destination.