“You would like to be a seamstress?” My mother glares at me with a horrified expression on her face.
“Not a seamstress, I would like to design, like I did now.”
Holy crap! Did I just fall asleep on my first day at work?
What’s wrong with you, Clem?
I quickly check my watch, it must have not been more than thirty minutes. My gaze skids to the door, checking that it’s still locked.
My earlier disappointment is forgotten, and I thank God this office is my own.
I get up from the chair and take a few sips of water from one of the plastic bottles before getting back to work.
Before I know it, it’s six in the evening, but I’ve made no progress on the design. In a forlorn state, I pack my bag and leave my office.
“What are the usual office hours?” I ask Ann, who is busy typing something on his computer.
In my contract, there was no mention of office timings. I was asked to come in at nine on the first day.
“There are no usual working hours. The building remains open twenty-four-seven. You just need to deliver on time.” He looks at me pointedly. “For you that means prom dress by next Monday.”
“Yes, I got it.” I’m not worried about time. I’ve made dresses in twelve hours. It’s the lack of inspiration that’s bothering me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ann replies with a nod, and I leave the building.
The light breeze of autumn hits my face and I take a few deep breaths, calming myself.
Finally, I decide to call a taxi, as I’m not sure if the buses are operational.
The ride toward…home, has just begun when my phone dings. It’s a text from Em. She has sent me a picture of our favorite place with a bag of Skittles on the bench. It instantly brings a smile to my face and I call her.
“How are you settling in?” She picks up immediately.
“It’s crazy, Em. Vanessa fired someone and gave me the task to redesign. And last night, I broke my landlord’s lamp, and then wet their bed and had to sleep on the couch. I didn’t even think of coffee or a car. I—”
“Hold on a sec. You wet someone’s bed?” Her voice rises in disbelief.
“What? No, not in that way, silly. I left the window open, and the rain did the job.”
“Oh, and what about coffee or a car? Is this some kind of fashion lingo?”
I giggle. “No! I didn’t think about my morning coffee or how I’d reach work. Did you know buses can stop running suddenly?”
“Yes, it can happen.” She cackles.
“See, I didn’t know that. I was waiting for forty-five minutes at the bus stop, until Keith told me there was no bus.”
“Keith? The landlord whose lamp you broke?” When I reply with a snorting yes, she asks, “How is he and the daughter?”
“Merida is a sweetheart, but Keith is like a mystery. In the past twenty-four hours, I’ve seen him angry, frustrated, caring—” I pause, thinking more about the brooding man. “—everything except for happy.” I look around, checking that the driver is following the same route Keith took this morning. “But maybe that’s because I had that incident with the rain, where I ended up at his doorstep all drenched with my luggage fanned out in the street.”
This time I get her full-blown laughter. “Only you can have an incident with rain. What exactly happened?”
So, I tell her all that transpired since I stepped out of the limo to now.
“He came back for you and made you coffee but only after he groped you?” she asks in a high-pitched voice.
My mind wanders to the moment in the dark kitchen, something I’m really trying hard to forget.