by Mia Wolf
I reach the restaurant for my dinner date with Ashley twenty minutes ahead of time. I’m pleased to find that she isn’t there yet. She shows up eight minutes later; twelve minutes earlier than she’s supposed to.
“I beat you to it,” I say when her eyes brighten with surprise upon seeing me.
“So you did.” She hangs her sling bag on the chair and kisses me.
She’s wearing a white jumpsuit that makes her breasts look far hotter than my body is comfortable sitting across from. I clear my throat and focus on her face instead.
“I’m glad you finally found where my eyes are,” Ashley says, flipping through the pages of the menu. “How’d the meeting go?”
“In my opinion, it went pretty well.”
We order dinner, and I’m surprised by how peaceful I feel. I’m so used to life twisting and turning, to hurricanes and tornadoes, that the word tranquility had disappeared from my vocabulary.
“This is nice,” I tell Ashley.
“What is?”
“This,” I gesture towards us. “The light, the food, you.”
“You’re still bad at poetry,” she says, but she smiles at me.
“Rose told me about the designs. How are you holding up?” I ask with a bit of worry in my voice.
“I’m holding up just fine. Let’s not talk about it,” she replies, looking through the window. “Let’s talk about something nice.”
We talk about food, the weather, and New York. About standup comedy and theater, about fashion and cars. And just when we’re satiated, Ashley brings up a new topic.
“Will you move to New York for your new job?”
“I don’t think so. I mean, I can do most of the work from home. It’s only the meetings that I’ll need to be in New York for. They mentioned they might try to find me a place.” I look at her to see her response.
“You can stay at my place if you want. For the meetings, I mean,” she says shyly, looking at her empty plate.
I take her hand and squeeze it, warmth filling my heart. “That would be wonderful.”
I’m enjoying the slow, sullen pace of life. The easy ebb and flow. I had forgotten that life doesn’t have to always keep hurting you, that it doesn’t always keep the hardest battles in store for you. Sometimes, your battle is to leave your warm and cozy bed in the morning, or to choose which loved one you spend time with. And sometimes, when it’s about choosing between love and work, life lets you choose both at the same time.
I realize a funny thing as my head hits the pillow and sleep wants to carry me away immediately. I don’t remember the last time my brain was quiet enough to fall asleep so quickly. The realization makes me laugh as if tickling my insides. It’s not just that I was the shadow; I was and in many ways still am. But a bigger problem is that I am also the prisoner in the cave who never left the darkness to see the real world. I am the shadow and the captive. How long will it take for me to realize that shadows are not what makes the world go round? It’s something else entirely, something tangible, something very real.
Chapter 30 – Ashley
Rose and I are in A3 again, working away at the designs, hunched over the large white table in the center. With some of the designs having been stolen, I need to be extra careful working on them. After coming back from the village, I ended up changing all of them—modifying existing parts that I loved and changing complete looks which didn’t fit the idea as much. I removed all parts of the designs that did get stolen, on the off chance that someone actually decides to use them. All of the designs are compromised, but I can’t just throw them all away and lose months of work like that. I need to find out who did it.
“Hey, Ashley. I can’t read these dimensions here,” Rose asks while pointing at the iPad screen with the design that she’s cutting.
“Five thirty-two,” I tell her.
Rose nods and goes back to work. But I can tell that something’s the matter, that there’s something that she’s not telling me. She’s been awfully quiet today and only gives brief responses when I ask her something.
“How’s Andrew?” I ask her as she almost buries her head into the white fabric in front of her.
“He’s good.”
I wonder if her mood has something to do with Warren and me. Is it possible that she’s not okay with us being together? Perhaps Warren or I should’ve at least asked her opinion.
“Is something the matter, Rose?” I ask, deftly carving out the neck of one of the designs. It folds at the base of the neck and the fabric I chose for it sits just firmly enough to give an air of confidence.
Rose shakes her head in response. I step away from the table, put a hand on my waist, and lean on one leg. I stare at Rose until she realizes that I’m staring.
She stops what she’s doing and tries her best to avoid eye-contact.
“If it’s something personal, I suggest you don’t bring it to work, Rose,” I say in a voice that I instantly regret using.
She looks like she’s about to cry. With her head bent down in shame, she doesn’t speak. I can see that her hands are trembling.
“Did something happen?” I ask in a more motherly tone.
“It’s—it’s just that I overheard a couple of people talking about me. They said you only chose me to work with because I’m Warren’s sister.”
I’m infuriated at the thought; disgust follows soon after. But I know neither is what I need right now.
“Take a seat,” I say a little too curtly, walking to my own chair and resting my back against it. We’ve been standing for hours to get the designs to completion as soon as possible. Even though I’ve been doing it for ages, my body doesn’t handle it as well as a few years ago. I can feel the stiffness in my neck and back.
“Listen up because I’ll only say this once,” I begin. “Yes, I found you through Warren. I was googling his name to find out where he might be, and that’s how I landed on your website, because you said on your personal page that you had a brother called Warren. That is correct, I found you through him, and I won’t lie about that. But from that point on, it has never once occurred to me that you’re Warren Maibach’s sister. It has also not once occurred to me that you’re not fit to do the job either. You’re not here because of your brother, you’re here because you’re good. And even if you think I could be lying, have you forgotten the night of your debut fashion show? Those screams and cheers, that applause? It was all for you. You’re damn good at your job, Maibach. The people you overheard are probably just jealous of you. If you didn’t have the talent or the skill, there’s nothing that being Warren’s sister could’ve done to get you to where you are.”
I twist my neck from one side to the other, hearing it crack a little. All that running isn’t making me age backward.
I look up to see a thin stream of tears on Rose’s cheek. I’m not sure whether she wants me to comfort her, or if she’d prefer more distance, so I pass her a pack of tissues from my purse.
“What are you thinking, hon?”
She takes a tissue and dabs her cheek with it. I have never seen her look so out of her element. She reminds me so much of myself, except that she knows how to be human whereas I used to just run around, behaving like a robot. I wish I had people who loved me and told me that I didn’t need to be perfect when I was her age.
“I’m thinking that I should probably believe you,” Rose says.
I instinctively respond with, “you should.”
“Do you really think I deserve to be here?” she asks like a little kitten. I realize that I’m starting to care about her, and not just because she’s Warren’s little sister.
“You deserve to be here, Rose. Do you know why I chose you? When I saw your website, even before I had really seen any of your designs, I had already decided that I would never work with you because of your connection to Warren, because I might be biased. But then I saw your work, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. That night, in your first Regal fashion week, trust me, half the peopl
e in that room wanted you on board. You didn’t get those offers because I chose you. You are really that good at what you do,” I pause and notice her relax. “You remind me of myself. You remind me of myself so much that it would’ve been foolish of me to pass up the opportunity of working with you just because you’re Warren’s sister. Trust me, your connection with him would’ve only hurt your chances.”
A small smile is slowly appearing on Rose’s face, and I give her another tissue. At that moment, Violet storms into the office but hesitates to walk up to us when she sees Rose crying.
“I can come back later,” she says, taking a step back.
I look at Rose, but she shrugs. “It’s OK, just tell me what it is,” I say to Violet.
“I just wanted to remind you that your meeting with the owner of the warehouse is in fifteen minutes,” she says, while she shoots another glance at Rose, then quietly leaves.
“Sorry about that,” I say to Rose. “Are you feeling better?”
She nods. “It’s hard being here,” she says. “I’m working myself to exhaustion every day. I’ve been doing that since the day I set foot in New York but all that everyone talks about is how I got where. You know they call me Ashley’s pet?”
“They used to call me Reuben’s second wife back when I started out,” I say. “Forget about what they say, they’re never going to stop. Focus on yourself and your work. And give it long enough, and your work will shut them up for good. Unlike them, you’ve actually got what it takes.”
I take my leave since I have a meeting, but I really hope I managed to placate some of Rose’s worries. It’s a tough world. I used to cry myself to sleep most nights; it happened so many times that I didn’t think it would ever stop. But it did, and I haven’t cried over the stupid rumors since. Rose will learn her lesson, too. Unlike her, I didn’t have anyone to tell me not to cry. I hope she’ll be fine because I know I am.
Chapter 31 – Warren
Ashley and I walk out of the restaurant where we had dinner. I’m still in New York, because ReVolt has announced another meeting. Ashley has been extremely busy during the day because she’s been working on her new fashion line, so dinner is the only time we get to see each other. I don’t know how things have turned out to be this way, but we both want to be in each other’s company.
We’re just making our way to Ashley’s car when we run into someone I wasn’t expecting to see. When the man shows up in front of me, my first animal instinct is to beat him to a pulp.
“Ashley, call your driver,” I say to her as Sebastian eyes her from head to toe. I step in between them to stop him, and he looks at me with an expression I haven’t seen on his face in a long time.
Luckily, Ashley’s driver shows up in no-time, and I tell Ashley to go home and that I have to take care of something. She looks at me in confusion, but does what I ask her to.
After she’s gone, I turn to Sebastian. I’m furious at his guts. My blood is boiling and anything that I can think of doing to him right now wouldn’t be considered appropriate.
“What do you want?” I ask him, feigning calm when there’s a hurricane sitting right under the surface.
“Let’s go drink,” he says stupidly as if we’re long lost friends meeting for the first time in decades.
“Are you out of your mind? I thought I made it clear last time: I want nothing to do with you anymore.” I spit fire and I realize that I should have been clear to him a long time ago.
“Please,” Sebastian pleads, and I shut up for a moment. That’s not what I was expecting from him. I was expecting curses and jabs and taunts to provoke me or something of that nature. Sebastian doesn’t plead. He’s not being himself right now.
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask a little quieter with a look of disgust on my face. He averts his gaze as though he feels ashamed.
“Just one last drink for old time’s sake,” he says. “It’s not a setup or anything. I feel alone, and I don’t have anyone else.”
For some reason, I find myself accepting the offer. Sebastian has never requested anything. He doesn’t request, he doesn’t beg, he doesn’t ask for things. He never gives you a choice and takes what he needs. This vulnerability is unlike him.
I text Ashley that it’ll take me an hour or so to come back home, and I promise not to be late. It gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling that someone is waiting for me at home. It’s been a long time since I felt that. I’m glad to find out that the novelty of it doesn’t wear off.
Sebastian and I walk to Harvey’s bar along the busy New York streets. I’m imagining starting a new life again in this city. This time, hopefully I won’t be broken. This time, I also hope I won’t make the same mistakes. I look at Sebastian from the corner of my eyes and see that his face is screaming of despair. It’s funny, I think, what else does he expect to find at the bottom of beer bottles? What else was I hoping to find at the bottom of beer bottles?
It’s going to be a tough journey for Sebastian, like it was for me. I wonder if he’s too far gone already.
When we arrive at the bar, Alex waves at me then looks away when he notices Sebastian next to me. We slip onto two adjacent seats at the bar, and I gesture Alex to pour us two glasses of scotch. I make a mental note to drink only one glass.
“I’m only going to have this one,” I tell Sebastian after Alex serves the drinks. I raise my glass in cheers, and Sebastian tilts his head slightly to reciprocate even though he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for celebration.
“What’s eating at you?” I ask him. It’s the first time we are having a conversation. Well, technically he hasn’t replied yet.
Sebastian doesn’t speak for a long time. When he does, there’s a low cry in his voice. “I don’t know how to get out of this, Warren. I don’t know how to stop.”
It would be a lie if I said my heart didn’t break at that statement. I never thought that Sebastian felt any remorse for his behavior. He’s a liar, a cheat, a drunk, and an awful friend. He’s a bad person by all standards, yet he’s only human. He makes the same mistakes that we all do. Actually, I wouldn’t go as far as to say that he makes the same mistakes as many people do. He has crossed lines he shouldn’t have, and he continues to do so even today without an ounce of regret. It’s so hard to trust him right now even if I feel bad for him. Most probably, he’ll wake up tomorrow, forget that tonight ever happened, then go back to his twisted ways again. If he’s anything like I’ve known him to be for all these years, he will probably be back to drowning himself in alcohol right after I leave. I suddenly regret coming here with him. But I have his attention right now so I give him my two cents.
“Stop looking at the world to fix your problems. You can do it all by yourself,” I say. I am almost expecting a cynical laugh from Sebastian, but it doesn’t come. He seems to be contemplating the thought.
I’m almost done with my drink, ready to leave the broken man to his own devices. I need to pick myself up before I can do it for him. Sebastian has a long way ahead of him before he can look himself in the eyes. Who am I to judge though?
“There is no hope for me, is there?” Sebastian asks.
An exaggerated sigh leaves my chest, my fault for trying. I grab my glass of scotch, down the rest of its contents, and drop a fifty dollar bill on the counter.
Then I look Sebastian in the eyes; he still looks upset and broken. Well, he is broken and it’s hardly surprising that he’s upset. He’s probably going to drown himself in more alcohol then forget everything that we talked about.
“Talk to your bear. Run with it. It can be healing, it was for me,” I tell him. He drops his head low, and I walk out on him, leaving him alone again.
This was exactly where we first met; the same two seats at the same bar. I’m glad my fate looks different from his. I hope he’ll find his way back, too.
Chapter 32 – Ashley
Life has not been better. I cannot describe how good it feels to know that Warren is waiting for me at home. I might
be getting used to the feeling.
Warren’s still in New York. He tells me he’s staying for another meeting, but I secretly think that he might be enjoying it here. I don’t mind at all. There’s a voice in my head that’s scared, though. What if he leaves?
Rose and I are done with work at about 7 p.m. I tell her to go home before me because I am yet to go through some new CCTV footage. The people from the security team told me that they found some new “unusual movements” from the day one of the designs got stolen and they’ve cut out the parts where they think I might notice something unusual.
I text Warren and tell him that I’ll be late. He insists on coming to the office to help me out, but I reassure him that I can handle this.
“I never question whether you can handle something, Ashley,” he texts back. And I feel both guilty for implying that and warm because he’s just as nice as I remember him to be.
“I got this, wait for me,” I text back to him then head back to my personal office. Most of the team has gone home for the day.
“Bye, Ashley,” Pearl, one my team members, says as she walks out of the office. I wave at her and smile.
I pull the blinds and open the zip file with the new footage. I decide to watch it on my TV as its screen is much larger than my computer’s. Watching CCTV footage is so incredibly boring that my brain cells drop dead like flies. I’m looking at an endless string of people coming in and out of the building. Occasionally, people talk to members of the security team, and some people sit or stand in one place for a long time. It’s immensely mind-numbing, and I’m starting to lose hope, too. But I force myself to focus. The key to the missing designs might just be on here.
Violet walks into the office, and I pause the video to hear what she has to say. She updates me on the day and briefly explains tomorrow’s schedule.
“Do you want me to get you a coffee from Starbucks or something before I leave?” she asks me. I lift my tired eyes and contemplate the offer. She seems to be ready to head home and if I ask her for a coffee right now, that’ll add an extra ten minutes to her day.