Chapter Six.
Alicia
I wasn’t shocked when I received a message from Winona asking me to meet with the club, but I was unsure what to do.
Oliver was at work, and I didn’t want to disturb him, but I also couldn’t just disappear.
He’d worry if I disappeared without telling him where I was.
Biting my nails, I dialled Oliver’s number.
“Alicia, I’m busy right now,” Oliver stated, answering the call.
“Oliver, I know, I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have called—” “Honey, whatever this is, I’m sure it can wait.”
A woman laughed in the background, and I frowned. Damn, Oliver was in a meeting.
“Oliver, I was invited to the club again to meet with those women,” I blurted. There was a pause.
“What?”
“Winona and the others want me to meet them.”
“Go, make friends, and remember my instructions. Alicia, we need the funding,” Oliver stated and cut the call. Instantly, I felt guilty; Lord knows what his employees thought of me ringing.
I looked down at my clothes before heading upstairs.
No doubt Winona and the others would hate them.
Worried, I scoured my wardrobe before picking a sundress.
Hopefully, this would be acceptable. I paired it with a cardigan and walked downstairs to call an Uber.
I could drive, but was uncomfortable doing so.
Oliver used to tense up when I was behind the wheel—for a sweet reason, too.
He said he hated the fact that he couldn’t protect me from other drivers if they made a mistake.
As I waited for the Uber, I grabbed the rest of the sketchbooks. After last night, I surmised they wished to see the others. The number I owned shocked me. Several boxes worth. How many designs had I sketched?
The Uber driver was sweet and helped me load the car before driving to Chambers. Today I noticed the gold writing over the sign; it was elegant and scrolling. Even the lettering spoke of wealth. To hold a membership here was a businessperson’s dream, and I’d been here twice.
The doorman frowned disapprovingly as I got out and the boxes were unloaded.
“Supplies around the back!” he growled.
“Oh, no. Sorry, I’m a guest of Winona Sinclair. Alicia Kensington. Winona requested me to bring these,” I said.
“Wait here.” The doorman headed inside. Unsure, I chewed my bottom lip. Had I made a mistake? Nervously, I took my phone out and checked Winona’s message.
“Hey. Why are you waiting outside?” Rebel demanded as she approached. Rebel wore jeans and a tee that made me smile. It stated, ‘If you can read this, I was forced to put my controller down and enter society. God save the Matrix.’
“Winona asked me to come, but I don’t think I’m on the guest list this time.”
Rebel looked around and spotted the boxes.
“Those yours?”
“Yes, the rest of the sketchbooks. I guessed you wanted them. Crap, you didn’t, did you? Damn, I overstepped—” “Shut up, Alicia. I’m glad you did; Winona probably forgot to tell you. Hey Thomas, get some waitstaff to bring these to the penthouse,” Rebel said as the doorman appeared.
“She’s not on the list,” Thomas replied.
Rebel’s eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon? Alicia’s my guest unless you wish to make an issue of that?”
“No, ma’am,” Thomas muttered resentfully.
Rebel smirked and linked her arm through mine. “Nice to see you removed that stick from your ass today. The dress is better. Not thoroughly modern, but a definite improvement. Let’s go in.”
“Rebel, I don’t want to leave the boxes. They’re precious,” I argued, and Rebel shrugged.
“No probs, we’ll wait for the staff,” she replied.
“Dibs!” Winona said an hour later, holding up a design.
Slowly, I ambled back over and sat down. Today, I’d wandered about while the women looked through sketches. This really was a penthouse. Kitchen, four bathrooms, three large offices, four huge bedrooms, dining room, library, entertainment/games room, and the lounge, which was the centre of it all.
“That’s the one you first saw.” Oceane rolled her eyes.
“Yet it’s still mine,” Winona snapped.
I hid a laugh as Oceane looked disgruntled.
“Well, I’m having this pantsuit,” Rebel announced, holding out another sketchbook. “Actually, I want at least half the items in this book.”
“Honey, you don’t have the butt,” Zinnia said, and I gasped while Rebel clutched her chest as if in pain.
“You wound me, bitch!” Rebel shot back.
I laughed, a real belly giggle with the others. Strangely, it felt weird, out of place. I couldn’t remember the last time I full-on laughed. Early on, I’d mastered the polite laugh, and that sucked, honestly.
“Okay, I’ll get these taken home,” I said.
“Actually, we’ve got a proposition.” Winona reached out and stayed my hand.
“Oh?”
“Yes. But first, you need to sign this NDA.” Oceane slid a folder across the table.
“Why?” I was instantly on guard.
“Because you’re going to want this,” Saska stated obliquely. Well, that wasn’t helpful.
Quickly, I read the NDA, and thankfully, it was simple and easy to understand. I signed and handed it back. Perhaps I should have had Oliver check it first. Who knew what these women were about to offer?
“You’ve got talent, Alicia, a lot of skill and creativity.
The dress wowed those yesterday, and quite a few wanted your contact details.
I played coy, which made you even more mysterious and gave you a name: Mystique.
Those bitches are now scouring the web for any trace of you,” Saska stated, leaning back on the sofa.
“Okay? They won’t find anything,” I said, and Saska nodded.
“No. But Mystique is out there. When Winona and Rebel wear your dresses, there will be a clamour for your designs. Alicia, we’re proposing to help you get started in business.” Oceane shocked me.
“Oliver wants investors, not me!”
“Oliver will get funding from our husbands. But we want to invest in you,” Zinnia said patiently.
“Why?”
“We’ve told you why. God knows why you won’t accept our word. And we’re not going to keep repeating ourselves. Either believe us or not. If you don’t, leave and don’t return,” Winona ordered.
“Will Oliver get your endorsement?”
“Do you do anything without thinking about precious Oliver? Girl, you’re brainwashed or obsessed, I’m not sure which. Girls, this is a mistake, and our initial impressions were correct,” Oceane said brusquely.
“Hey, I’m neither! Just because I adore my husband and want what’s best…” I began to get irate.
“Alicia, we all love our husbands, but don’t put them at the front of everything we do. Oceane may have been blunt, but she’s right. You’re acting like you’re brainwashed or have Stockholm Syndrome,” Winona said gently.
“Jesus, I don’t! I have my own life!” I exclaimed. But my gut sank. Did I? I stayed at home most days and rarely went out. If I did, Oliver usually accompanied me, and I was happy with that status quo. Clearly, although Winona and the others were loved, they didn’t have the love Oliver and I had.
“You do? Prove it.” Oceane’s eyes contained a challenge.
I held them, not willing to back down.
“Fine. We want to invest in Mystique, which means you. You can’t tell Oliver because of the NDA. Alicia, you claim you aren’t under his control, then this is an offer nobody would refuse,” Winona stated calmly.
“What we’re offering is simple. We’ll fund a floor in a building and hire staff.
You’ll require skilled seamstresses and tailors, as well as other employees.
Alicia, your task is to create several one-offs for us, and we’ll get you noticed.
These sketchbooks need organising into categories.
Some of your ideas need a little updating.
However, you’ve enough valid designs here that you don’t have to design for a few years,” Zinnia said.
“Then, when we’ve got Mystique some attention, we’ll upload a website.
And probably also hire a social media expert to tout your up-and-coming range.
This won’t be easy, and you’ll work hard.
Start by organising these designs; you’ve day wear mixed with evening gowns and so on. Do that first,” Saska ordered.
“Make a haute couture stack, a nightwear pile, a prêt-à-porter range, and separate your business clothing line. Once you’ve done that, then divide into seasons.
I would then suggest you take ten pieces, make any corrections, and start creating for a show.
Zinnia can get you contacts for one,” Winona said.
Oceane grinned. “And Miss Mystique, you’re going to design a mask that covers your face, like a masquerade mask.
Alicia, for the foreseeable future, you’ll hide your identity from everyone.
That will build a brand. You’ll be legendary for being mysterious and secretive, yet a genius in fashion. Honey, welcome to our world!”
Oliver - two years later
Another dinner we were invited to, this time to celebrate Alicia’s twenty-seventh birthday.
These get-togethers were becoming tedious.
I’d secured the financing I needed, but the women had sunk their hooks into Alicia.
I didn’t like their influence on her, though Alicia didn’t listen to them.
They’d taken her shopping and bought more trendy clothes, and I’d hated that.
Alicia had been perfect; men looked but never viewed her sexually.
Now, Alicia garnered interested looks when she was out.
Although at home, she dressed in her usual bland style, which I heartily approved of.
The investment I’d secured had paid dividends for Aaron, Brock, and Jude, who’d chosen to invest. I’d been very profitable indeed.
I held the number two retail spot in the country for my industry.
But I wanted first. It burned me that someone was above me.
I’d beaten Chic Dreams when I secured the investments, and now I was chasing Zade.
The company needed something to give it an advantage.
“How do I look?” Alicia asked shyly as she entered my home study.