“What’s got you so chipper today?” a familiar voice behind me demanded as I reached the elevator. “Don’t you realize you’re late?”
I swirled around, only to see April peering at me suspiciously with a stack of dresses in her hand. She looked extra cute today with her hair swept up into a side pony tail, a pale blush to her cheeks and her eyelids covered in colorful shadow. Besides that, she looked practically stuffed inside the black pants that were a size too small for her. The sad thing was that she was already a size two. That’s the kind of messed up crap girls did working in this industry and for Christine, who was notorious for making the girls around here feel terrible about their weight, myself included.
A smile spread across my face. “Who cares?”
April raised an eyebrow, staring at me like I’d lost my mind. “Excuse me? Christine is going to have your ass for breakfast.”
“Fuck Christine.”
April reared back. “Whoa. What the hell has gotten into you?”
Staring at April’s shocked expression, it became too much. I burst out laughing hysterically.
“What is going on?” April demanded in concern when I doubled over, choking with laughter. “Are you on something?”
“I can’t breathe,” I choked, gasping for breath.
April repositioned the dresses she was holding in one arm and then pounded me on the back. After several rib aching moments, I was finally able to get myself under control.
“What the hell?” April persisted, peering me up and down as if the real me had vanished and had been replaced with some nut from the psych ward. “Do I need to call for help or something?”
“No. I’m fine.”
“Well it doesn’t seem like it,” April muttered, unconvinced. “I’ve never seen you act like this before.”
“That’s because I’ve never been this happy in my entire life!”
“What do you mean? What’s going on?”
“I’m quitting!”
April gaped. “What?”
I grinned. “It’s my last day working for the unbearable witch. The only thing I’ll miss is you and Gabe, but I’m sure we’ll still talk from time to time.”
April frowned. “Vicky . . . are you sure about this? You’re basically giving up your career if you walk out on Christine.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re not? You must have really lost your mind then. Christine will make sure you never work in fashion again. You know as well as I do that she has a penchant for being vindictive.”
“I won’t need Christine’s referrals. I’ll be able to make my own work.”
April peered at me warily. “Oh yeah? How’s that? You’re just starting out in this business with virtually no contacts. How in the world do you expect to get the resources to become successful?”
I smiled sweetly as the elevator door opened. “Tyler Locklin.”
“What? Tyler Locklin—Vicky, what have you gotten yourself into?”
“Sorry, April. Gotta’ go. I’m itching to tell the witch what I’ve been wanting to say for months. I’ll be sure to stop by and tell you and Gabe bye before I leave.”
“Vicky, wait! You’re making a very big mistake!”
The elevator doors slid closed on April before she could finish her protest. I really didn’t know why she was bothering. I was done with Christine for good.
On the top floor, ready to kick ass and take names, I marched purposefully to Christine’s office and kicked her door open.
Seated at her desk with a man who looked vaguely familiar standing behind her, Christine jumped, startled by my brazen entry.
What the hell am I doing? I thought in a moment of panic.
“Victoria!” Christine barked with surprise. “What on earth do you think you’re doing marching in here like that?”
“Shut up!” I snapped.
I can’t believe I just said that, I thought, my heart pounding wildly within my chest.
Deafening silence descended upon the room, and the man standing behind Christine turned white with shock.
He probably thinks I’m crazy, talking to the queen of fashion like that, I thought, trying to quell my trembling limbs.
“Pierre, will you please allow me to deal with this . . . problem,” Christine said quietly after a stunned moment.
“Certainly.” He bowed his head with respect to Christine and walked out of the room, shaking his head as he passed me.
Christine centered her burning eyes on me like a hawk. “What did you just say to me, young lady?”
“I said shut up,” I repeated.
“Do you realize who you’re talking to?”
I giggled, fighting the tremors of anxiety rolling through my legs. Despite my anxiousness, I felt powerful. I was finally going to be free, and it felt good to be able to tell the witch what I’d been wanting to say since my first day on the job. “Sure I do. An unbearable, miserable, narcissistic, old hag who is so unhappy with her dull life that she makes a career out of giving young girls poor self-esteem issues.”