FORTY-THREE
After a relaxing weekend with Kross, my heart is overflowing with joy. As Monday morning light fills his bedroom and bathes our brown skin, I kiss his lips and climb out of bed with a burst of inspiration.
I retrieve the design pad from my bag, sit on the comfy chaise by the window, and start working on new looks. I allow my heart to lead every detail, resulting in two fresh, edgy dresses that are nothing like my stolen work.
Kross comes down the passage in sweatpants and a t-shirt. “Morning, baby.”
“I made coffee,” I call out, gleaming at him.
He pauses and squints at me. “You’re chirpy.”
“I’m feeling inspired.”
“That’s good. Hungry?”
“I’ll make toast in a bit,” I tell him.
“Nah, keep doing your thing. I’ll make breakfast.” He continues to the kitchen, taking out veggies and almond milk.
“Ready for me to exit your space and head home?”
He slants to me with his mouth twisted. “Chill. You can stay as long as you want. You trying to get spanked or something?”
I bite my lip. “Maybe.”
“Hm,” he chuckles, refocusing on what he’s doing.
Still smiling, I fall back into designing until Kross brings me a plate of scrambled tofu and toast, kisses my cheek, and leaves me to work. I hear him in the shower. Soon after, he returns to the living area and stretches out on the sofa with his laptop, looking serious while he works.
I like that he’s understanding and doesn’t disrupt my focus. And that we can be in the same space working without constantly talking.
Jamir never could. He’d always leave once I started designing and was never interested in seeing my work.
Now that we aren’t together, I’m realizing how lonely I felt with him, especially now that I’m with someone who supports me and cares about my dreams.
As vibrations fill the quiet, Kross sits up to answer his phone. “Hey, man.” A scowl forms as he listens. “I’m on my way. Thanks for letting me know.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask the second he hangs up.
He blows a sharp breath and puts on his sneakers. “My mom is in the hospital. Someone found her beaten unconscious.”
“Oh my god.” I shoot to my feet. “I’ll change and go with you.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ve been here before. Keep working on your designs. I’ll call you.” We meet halfway for a kiss. “If you need to go out, the door code is 228.”
“Okay. Hope your mom is all right.”
He kisses me again and hurries out of the condo.
Finishing my fifth design, I take a break and text Kross. It’s been an hour since he left.
Me: How’s your mom?
He replies within seconds.
K: She’s still out.
I’ll call you in a bit.
Me: Okay.
Praying for her.
I’m about to add the three words to the reply, but I hold off on that and hit send. It’s only been four weeks of knowing Kross. Maybe what I’m feeling is a rush of passion and lust. It can’t be love yet.
I check the time. It’s almost two. Chavonne should still be in her office. She might reconsider the launch if I show her the new looks I’ve completed.
Taking a quick shower in Kross’s luxurious bathroom, I haul on jeans and a sweater, slip into flats, wrap my curls, and head out with my design pad.
I reach La Monte in minutes and enter the building. The receptionist informs me that Chavonne is still here and isn’t meeting with anyone. So I walk down the passage to her door and knock. “It’s Davia.”
“Enter,” she responds firmly.
Drawing a deep breath, I step into the office and close the door. It feels like the day I brought my completed designs and made the proposal.
“Davia, I was about to—”
“I wanted to show you these before you left for the day,” I interrupt.
She crumples her brows. “You did new designs?”
“Yes. Five. But the way I’m feeling, I know I’ll have more by the end of the week. My heart’s on fire right now.”
“Oh?” She sets down her pen and accepts the pad to look through, slowly turning her head in awe. “God, you’re talented.”
“Maybe we can still push forth with the launch?” I plead, wringing my hands. “We could do it at the end of September instead. I designed the looks to go with early fall. It’ll be one month after your general autumn release, so consumers might like that. You can use my percentage to cover the loss of the previous materials and acquire the new ones. Whatever it takes.”
She stares at me quietly while closing my design pad. “The fact that you’re willing to use your earnings and came up with new looks in such a short time…” She releases a lengthy breath. “Okay. I’ll create a new plan with the team. Now that we know who’s responsible for the leak, things should go smoothly this time.”
“You found out?” I sputter. “Who is it?”
She sighs. “Wren discovered an email through investigating. Sadly, it’s from Iree.”
My stomach drops. “Iree…”
“Disappointing. You convinced me to allow her to travel to Paris. You shared your room with her. Absolutely trifling. I’ve encountered people like Iree throughout my career in the fashion industry. You have to be careful who you trust.”
“What will you do?” My voice is a hurt whisper.
“I fired the bitch, of course.” She sniffs. “I won’t have her continue working here. We’re suing her as well.” She observes me for a second. “You all right?”
“I’m not sure,” I mutter, still in shock.
“Take the rest of the week to work on your designs and return Monday prepared for a hectic run. Whatever is happening in your life now is giving you a fresh charge. I like it.”
Thinking of Kross makes my heart skip. “Me too. Thank you, Chavonne.”
“Mmhm.” She returns my design pad. “Good job.”
Fury bubbles in my body as I leave the office. I can’t believe Iree did that to me. And for what? Because I’m with Kross, and she isn’t?
Jealousy sure can turn people ruthless.