Chapter 12 #3
A smile tugged at my lips as I turned my car off. “Jazz…” I dragged her name out curiously. “Are you sleeping with someone?”
“I didn’t say that,” she replied quickly.
I climbed out of my car. “You didn’t have to say it.”
“Your meeting is at noon, right? Because you only have seven minutes to get in there.”
“I’m crossing the street now. But back to you—”
“Back to you,” she countered in a rush. “You stopped talking to The Romantic One because things were changing, but it sounds like things are changing with The Fun One, too. Are you planning on ending things with him?”
“No.” I lifted my hand in a wave toward the person who waited until I was on the sidewalk before proceeding through the light.
“Are you planning on making it official with Russ ?”
“Oop! Not you using his real name to deflect from this mystery man you’ve been getting busy with in your hometown,” I said as I opened the door to the building.
“I’m getting off the phone,” Jazz announced, amusement hinting at the truth.
“Well, while you sit in denial, I’m going to give you some real talk. It’s about time you got them cobwebs cleared out. And don’t be more worried about hurting someone else’s feelings than you are about hurting your own. If it needs to end, end it. But don’t end it just because you’re scared.”
She was quiet.
“Jazz?” I headed toward the elevator.
“I’m here,” she replied softly.
“Don’t be scared,” I repeated.
“You don’t be scared either.”
I swallowed hard.
The elevator door opened, and I walked into it with a handful of people. “I’m feeling really good and confident about today,” I declared. “Now that I’m here, I’m excited.” The doors started to close. “Oh, I might lose you in the elevator.”
“I didn’t mean about the job.”
My mouth was agape. Before I could even respond, she continued. “Have a great first day! You got this! Bye, girl!”
Even though she’d already hung up, I still had the phone to my ear. “Bye.”
I shook off what she said because I didn’t have time to analyze it. The doors opened and I got out with a man with a large portfolio.
“Welcome!” a woman greeted us.
I looked around, marveling at the change that had taken place in a couple days.
The office looked completely different than it did on Friday.
It went from a blank canvas to an actual fashion house.
The décor was simple, yet sleek, with chrome-and-black furniture, interesting art in black frames, and enlarged black-and-white photos of models in RLF designs.
The RLF logo emblazoned on the floor just off the elevator was the flashiest thing about it.
“You’re early,” she remarked to the man. “You can go back.” Then she looked at me. “How can I help you?”
I flashed a big smile. “I have a twelve o’clock meeting with Sasha.”
She picked up a phone and then directed me down the hall to the right. I followed her directions and Sasha met me in the hallway.
“Welcome, Nina!”
For the next half hour, we reviewed and went over paperwork. I signed all the necessary documents. Then I was given my schedule for September and input the dates in my calendar. I kept a straight face, but I was so excited I could burst.
“Now, let’s get you over to the showroom,” she directed. “Angelica is the head stylist and the person who will be critiquing your social media posts.” Noticing the look on my face, she explained further. “Think of her as quality control.”
Before I could even respond, Sasha flung the door open, and we entered a space twice as big as the conference room.
“Oh!” I mumbled in surprise.
The showroom was an extremely large open room lined with racks upon racks of clothing. My eyes widened as I took in the impressive display. I didn’t know RLF had so many designs. After introducing me to Angelica, Sasha left to prepare for a meeting.
“I’ll have a packet for you to take with you and your parking pass,” Sasha said. “But right now, I need to get ready for a meeting so I’m leaving you in Angelica’s hands.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Nina.” Angelica shook my hand. With a stern expression, she pushed her red frames up the bridge of her nose. “I need to get your measurements.”
She directed me behind a partition to get undressed.
A few minutes later, she pulled the yellow tape measure from around her neck and got to work.
Quietly, she jotted down numbers and continued to make notes until she was finished.
The silence wasn’t stony, but it wasn’t comfortable.
Small talk didn’t seem welcome, so I followed her lead.
She told me to get dressed and to meet her back at her desk.
And without a word, I did.
She eyed me as I walked across the room toward her.
“You carry your weight well,” she said to me. “You would be good on a runway.”
Without another word, she turned and headed toward the first rack of clothing.
I didn’t know what to say so I just silently followed her.
She pulled fourteen pieces—a combination of shirts, dresses, pants, skirts, and jumpsuits.
I suppressed my enthusiasm and internally oohed and aahed over the clothes.
When we returned to her desk, Angelica broke the silence. “The fashion show is the marquee event to launch. But everything that is posted to drum up the anticipation for this line is just as important.” She looked at me over the top of her glasses. “For you as a model and for the company.”
Does that mean if she doesn’t like what I post, I’m out? Does that mean—?
“Good afternoon, Angelica,” one of the two female models I’d met over the weekend called out. “Oh, hey, Nina!”
The other models filed in and spoke as well.
The brisk hello from Angelica put me at ease. Seeing her interact with the other models with the same firmness and lack of warmth made me feel better.
That’s just who she is, I guess.
“As I was telling Nina, this launch is important. Your roles are important. Your different personalities showcase how RLF is for everybody. I’ve pulled looks for you all.
I’ll be monitoring to see what you do with what I’ve given you.
” She pointed at us. “You are the tastemakers. You are the influencers. Let me see what you’ve got. ”
She handed us each a tote full of clothes and then she dismissed us.
Confused, I walked out into the hall.
“Is that it? Do I go home?” I covered my face bashfully. “I don’t know what’s next.”
All six feet, four inches of Jonah came up beside me and draped his arm around my shoulder. “Stick with me. I’ll lead you—”
“Astray,” Taisha interrupted humorously. “Jonah will lead your ass astray.”
The five of us laughed as we made our way up the hall. The noise seemed to alert Sasha we were done. She hurried out of her office and down the hall.
“Leave your stuff behind this desk. I have some people I want you to meet,” the HR manager said before beckoning for us to follow her. “RLF executives are here. I know a couple of you haven’t met everyone so this will be a good opportunity.”
I didn’t feel nervous at all. I’d already met Remedy and I knew she liked me. I’d made it through Angelica’s silence. I’d already signed the paperwork to bind our contract. Maybe it was the dick I’d gotten last night and this morning.
My smile grew.
She knocked on the conference room door before sticking her head in.
“Hi, I have the models here.” She nodded and then smiled.
“They have their own clothing on.” She took a step back and allowed us to walk in.
“I’m pleased to introduce you to the face of the company, Chief Creative Officer Remedy Rose… ”
She introduced us to seven men and women who held executive position with the company. Everyone appeared to be between the ages of thirty and fifty, which was exciting to see. After shaking hands and making light small talk for a few minutes, Remedy took her place at the head of the table.
“Have a seat,” Remedy instructed. “This won’t take long.”
The five of us sat at the far end of the conference table. I clasped my hands in front of me and waited.
Turning to the other executives, Remedy gestured to us.
“Our marketing budget has been restructured to add these key pieces to our marketing strategies. Social media is the new commercial, but with more reach, opportunity, and effectiveness. Our marketing team is great and will go through all the traditional channels. But this modeling team”—she pointed to us—“will be key in positioning RLF as a leader in the fashion marketplace.” She turned to us.
“The more valuable content you are sharing on social media, the higher your chances to be featured in our national campaign and commercial.” She turned back to the execs.
“These five models have a significant social media following. They have the look, they have the style, and they have the opportunity to grow with us. Not only will they show people the versatility of what we offer, they will build the grassroots type of following for our pieces. So, models, we are the waymakers. We can pave the way in this industry to catapult your already-rising stars. And fellow executives, these are the tastemakers. They can make RLF into a household name. And together, we can all make a lot of money.”
The room filled with laughter and applause.
“Thank you for stopping in,” she thanked us before politely indicating for us to leave. “We’ll see you soon. I’ll see you at your in-person appearances. We—oh, perfect timing! Models, there’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.” She gestured to the back of the room. “Russell Long…”
Confused, my head jerked in the direction she pointed and my breathing hitched.
“The president and CEO of Real Life Fashions.”