Chapter 59
Lucy
Horoscope Pisces
Going through your Saturn return is like walking through an endless tunnel. There’s pain in that darkness, but sometimes the most worthwhile things in life require disintegration before they can be rebuilt on solid ground. Keep going.
King’s hand didn’t leave my thigh the entire drive to New York, even once we got into Manhattan traffic. Something about his one-handed driving turned me on, which would have been a bit embarrassing, but at least it distracted me from my inner turmoil.
My guys had chalked up my mood the past few days to my pre-interview anxiety, and that was definitely part of it.
The only interview I’d done was for a part-time job at La Dolce Vita’s seasonal gelato stand on the beach when I was fifteen.
Somehow I thought this interview might serve up harder-hitting questions than, “What’s your favorite ice-cream flavor? ”
But my uneasiness ran deeper than interview jitters.
This was the opportunity I’d dreamed of since I made collages of my favorite outfits from Mormor’s fashion magazines.
This internship would be an affirmation of all the hard work I’d put in through the years, and maybe it would finally make me feel worthy of calling myself a designer, artist, and seamstress.
I’d wanted to prove to myself that I could do something meaningful with my life…
but I wasn’t sure that’s what I needed anymore.
Maybe the life I’d created, and the work I did, was already worthwhile.
“You ready?” Leo opened my car door and I blinked. I’d been so out of it I hadn’t realized we’d arrived.
I glanced at King and he leaned over the console for a kiss. “I’m going to park the car. You’ll do amazing. I love you, baby. No matter what.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I love you, too.”
I took Leo’s hand and smoothed my skirt before we walked into the lobby, Wilder flanking my other side. He’d been quiet the entire drive, too, saying he was tired from his long shift, but his scent gave him away. Something more was going on, and it was not helping soothe my anxiety.
The lobby was gorgeous—huge vaulted ceilings, plush furniture, marble floors, and a cafe off to the side.
Everyone here was scurrying around in designer clothes, laptop and coffee in hand.
I tugged on my dress again. Should I have worn something different?
I’d made it last summer—a fitted number with long sleeves and a short skirt covered in bright floral appliqué that stood out painfully in the sea of black pencil skirts.
My guys half propelled me to the front desk, where I checked in and was told my interviewer, Fran, would be down soon. We took a seat on the lobby couch.
“Do you want coffee?” Leo stroked the back of my hand. “Or a snack? It looks like the cafe has pastries.”
I shook my head. My stomach was churning too much to eat and I was too wired for caffeine.
“You’ll do great, azizam. I have no doubt.” Leo pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.
Wilder stared straight ahead with a blank expression. I leaned into his side and was about to demand he tell me what was going on when a woman with sleek black hair and an impeccably tailored black pin-striped suit got off the elevator and walked straight for us.
“Hi, Lucy.” She held out a confident hand and I stood to shake it. “I’m Fran Soto, director of our internship program. If you’re ready, we’ll head upstairs.”
Wilder seemed to snap out of his haze and pulled me into a quick hug. “You’ve got this, sweetheart. We’ll be here when you’re done.”
I felt lighter as I followed Fran into the elevator.
“Thanks for making the time to come with such short notice,” she said as she led me into her office—a window-lined room with sketches and magazines covering the walls and a haphazard stack of fabric samples on her desk.
I grinned. It was exactly what I’d imagined a fashion designer’s office to look like, and not too far removed from the chaos of my shop.
“I really appreciate you inviting me to interview. It means a lot to me.”
Fran smiled as she sat down across from me and jumped right in. Her sharp wit and sense of humor shone through during the interview. She seemed genuinely interested in my store and even asked questions about my grandma from the artist’s statement I’d finally written.
I held my breath while she flipped through my portfolio.
“You have a fun sense of style, and it’s great that you have experience designing for diverse bodies. We’ve been focusing on expanding our line of plus-sized clothing. If that’s something you’re interested in, you could develop that as a focus during your internship.”
“Does everyone pick a focus?”
Fran hummed. “Our program is designed to give our interns broad exposure to different career opportunities within fashion, with a focus on design. You would assist with sketches and sewing, creating mood boards, researching trends for our winter line, and assisting during fittings and shows. But there’s some room within our program to develop an area of focus. What are your career goals?”
Shit. This was quite possibly the most straightforward question she could ask, and I’d practiced my answer in the mirror last night. But now that I was sitting here, my rehearsed answer felt trite.
“To be honest, I didn’t think working in a big fashion house would ever be in the cards for me since I didn’t go to college, so the past week has definitely been a bit of a whirlwind.
” I took a deep breath to steady myself.
“I guess what I really want is to expand my skills and confidence in designing and sewing couture. I love working individually with clients to design something unique to them.” I clenched my hands on my lap to keep myself from fidgeting, but Fran just nodded thoughtfully.
She asked a few more specific questions about my portfolio pieces before ushering me out of her office for a building tour.
Fran led me through the maze of hallways, introducing me to anyone we came across. “You’ll love what’s on the next floor.” We took a turn out of the elevator and she swept her arm out in front of her. “This is our sewing room.”
I peeked through the door. An enormous cutting table sat against the back wall, corkboards displayed fabric samples, and lining the tables in the middle of the room were a dozen different sewing machines.
This was heaven.
“Is sewing a big part of this internship?” I asked.
“Not a big part, no. Mainly you’d hand-sew to make small repairs or adjustments on shoots or behind the scenes at shows.
The focus of this internship is more heavily weighted on designing clothes for larger-scale manufacturing versus couture, but you would still gain invaluable experience to reach your goals. ”
My heart twisted. The internship would require me to work long hours. I doubted it would leave me much time to sew for myself.
I reluctantly left the sewing room behind, and we emerged into a small coworking space where two beta women my age were working on their laptops.
“Oh, good. I was hoping you’d be here. Lucy, this is Brooklyn and Ellie. Brooklyn was actually an intern in the design program a couple of years ago. Lucy is interviewing for the internship today.”
I gave the two women a wave as a man in a dark purple suit jogged into the room.
“Fran, sorry to interrupt, but Patrick is on the phone for you.”
“Ah, okay. Can you girls hang out with Lucy while I take this call? You can convince her to come work with us.”
“Sure. Come in, Lucy. We’ll spill all of Fran’s secrets,” Ellie said.
I grinned and sat down at the table. It would be nice to have coworkers my age to collaborate with.
Brooklyn stared intently at my face. “You look so familiar to me, but I’m not sure why.”
I cocked my head. “I don’t know. I rarely come to the city so…”
She snapped her fingers. “I got it! You sew for Mayor Felix, right?”
Oh shit.
My mouth gaped like an unattractive fish as Brooklyn continued.
“This is so embarrassing—for me, not you! I’m obviously obsessed. I took a screenshot of the selfie you posted on your birthday because your dress was really pretty and I was trying to figure out how you made it.”
I’d broken my rule to remain faceless on Felix’s account when I posted our birthday selfie. It was one thing to know intellectually that I had over half a million followers, but it was another to actually meet a stranger in the wild who followed me.
“Your work is incredible. And Blossom? I am obsessed. I can’t wait to see their outfits for Midsummer! I was even thinking about going to Starlight Grove for the festival.”
“Okay,” Ellie interjected. “Now you sound like a stalker who wants to wear Lucy’s skin like a suit.”
Brooklyn wrinkled her nose. “Well, that’s a disgusting image. I promise I don’t want to wear your skin. Mostly, I just wish I was as cool and talented as you.”
My stunned fish face continued. This woman worked in a huge fashion house in New York and she thought I was cool and talented?
“You’re considering taking the design internship here?” Ellie asked.
I shrugged, my cheeks pink. “I’m just interviewing today. I don’t know if I’ll even get the offer.”
“Of course you’ll get it,” Brooklyn said. “They’d be stupid not to snap you up.”
My face was seconds from going up in flames. “Do you like working here?”
“Yeah,” Brooklyn said. “The fashion world can be brutal. After my internship here, I got an entry-level position at another fashion house and hated it. My manager was awful. But Fran is a really solid boss, and I’ve definitely learned a lot.”
“The hours can be rough,” Ellie added. “Lots of weekends and stuff. But I think it’s worth the sacrifice if you’re working toward your goals.”
“Do you want to transition away from sewing to design?” Brooklyn asked.
I chewed my lip. “I’m not sure.”
“Of course, you already are a designer. Ellie, she’s the one who made that strawberry dress I was telling you about.”
“That was you? I swear we studied that outfit for ages trying to figure out the pattern!”
“Really? I could send it to you.”
“Lucy, you can’t just be handing out your patterns for free!” Brooklyn said. “Besides, the most I’ve ever sewn was curtains for my house, and by the end of it, I was ready to throw the machine out the window.”
“If you ever ran a sewing class, I would take it in a heartbeat,” Ellie added.
“Yes! There’s this seamstress I love who has this whole online program with her patterns and tutorials and stuff.
You would kill at that! You could do a whole separate class on pet clothing.
I made my cat a bandana and I swear she looked at me like This is the best you can do?
” She shook her hand. “I never should have shown Princess Whiskers your Instagram.”
Had I entered an alternate reality? My friends and family had been complimenting my sewing for years, but they had to say nice things. These were two strangers. “I really just do it for fun.”
“Well, if you ever want to set up an education site, my girlfriend could totally help. She’s a computer person,” Brooklyn said.
“A computer person? For the love of god. You live together and you still can’t remember her job title?”
She shrugged. “I mean, I moved in with her after three dates, so I’m not sure that’s saying much. When you know, you know.”
Ellie looked at me, shaking her head, but I grinned. It wasn’t like I could say anything. My guys were practically living in my nest already.
“Let’s exchange numbers so we can keep in touch,” Brooklyn said.
Ellie muttered that her friend was a stalker under her breath, but they both put their numbers into my phone.
“You’d be welcome to come to Midsummer, by the way,” I said. “Although my guys might not approve of your whole skin-suit plot.”
Brooklyn gasped. “Your guys? I didn’t realize you were bonded.”
My cheeks heated at my slip. “Not yet. We’re still courting.”
“I don’t know who I’m more excited to meet—Felix or your pack.” She tapped her pencil against her lips. “Let’s be real, it’s Felix. Unless you’re also making costumes for your pack?”
“Oh, I’m definitely going to sew something for them.”
“I can’t wait to see.”