5
1541 Words
Paloma Perez.
The Don’s wife is as bright as the moon. She’s not what I was expecting at all. I thought I’d be meeting a matriarch with cold eyes and tighter rules—someone who’d hang me dry just for breathing wrong, especially knowing what her son is like…and her husband, even though I’ve never seen him before. But I can imagine. I mean, he is a Don.
She’s nothing like that. Her hair is this rich, pearly blonde with soft brown eyes, the kind that smiles before her mouth even does. And that smile—it’s so charming.
Her closet isn’t a closet at all. It is a ballroom dressed as one. White floors, glass compartments, velvet-lined drawers. To make it, utterly more bougee, there is a rolling ladder just for her collection of Birkins. Chanel sits beside Vivienne Westwood. I spot rare editions. Custom pieces. Not to mention the heels, the silk scarves, the sunglasses, the jewelry.
“Overwhelming?” Mrs. Flora walks in.
“Uh, no… ma’am. Beautiful is the word.” I smile back as she hands me a cup of coffee
“Thank you. I know it’s a lot. But when you’re in fashion, you have to move with the seasons. You’ll think this is bad, but might I scare you? This isn’t all. There’s a basement too.”
“No way.” I set the coffee down.
“Yes way, Paloma.” She laughs, like music. “I know this’ll take at least two months to sort, but the basement is a whole other world.”
I walk to the side of the closet that looks a little less daunting. Maybe I should start small. There are belts, wristwatches, rings. I don’t even know where to begin.
I turn back to her. “Would you like me to sort them by year? Color? Pattern? Matching activity?”
“Dear, since Sydney picked you, I trust you know your craft. Surprise me.” she sips her coffee.
Right. Sydney picked me. Was it Pasiphae who had a hand in it? I forgot to call her yesterday. I was so overwhelmed with joy when I got home. I told Eva and we jumped. Then, I knocked out to sleep because I was so tired too.
“If you need something, just head outside. The housekeepers are everywhere and they’ll help you. Okay?”
Her smile is so genuine and I smile back.
“Okay.”
“My goodness,” Mrs. Flora sighs. “Has your own mother ever told you just how beautiful you are?”
My lips part. Truth is, my mother used to say things like that before I married Caden and that was also before I left the house. It’s been a year and we haven’t spoken. So, hearing these words from someone else...it almost hurts.
“I’m embarrassing you…” Mrs Flora says with a soft chuckle. “I’ll stop. I’ll leave you to your work.”
She dusts off her hands and glides out of the room.
As soon as she’s gone, I let out a breath for this place. It is so different and so clean. Not like that filthy bar or its grease-smudged kitchen with Caden in its shadows.
Although—will I run into Caden here?
I stop thinking when my phone starts buzzing. I pull it from my purse and it’s a video call from Pasiphae and Eva. Both at once. Mercy.
Sydney ordered me to come early this morning. So, again, I didn’t have time to tell Pasiphae the good news.
I prop the phone up against the wall and answer.
Eva’s mouth drops open. “Oh. My. God!”
I step back so they can see more of the room.
“You got it!” Pasiphae cheers. “I told you you were going to get it.”
“Guys, I honestly don’t even know how I got it. First, I run into Elijah and I thought he was going to tell everyone who I am. But he didn't. Then next thing I know, this woman, Sydney, calls me and tells me I got the job.”
“Well, Sydney’s a friend of my mom’s. She’s the one who told me there was a vacancy and I told her you would come for you are really a good designer.”
“You did that?” I gasp. “Pasiphae… thank you. This is all because of you.”
I pick up the phone and start slowly walking deeper into the closet, letting them see the mirrored drawers, the rows of rings, perfume glasses, scarves folded like butterflies.
Eva groans dramatically. “Ugh, look at you in your dream job while I’m here stuck talking to Curtis, Thomas, and that i***t manager who keeps thinking I’m someone else. Girls, we need to meet up and talk about what Elijah did.”
“What did Elijah do?” Pasiphae asks.
Eva leans closer to her camera and whispers.
“He defended Paloma right in front of everyone. He was all muscles, so tall and lethal like the straight-up gangster he is.”
Pasiphae gasps. “What?”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t pretend I didn’t think about it too.
He did give me a ride.
He didn’t say a word about who I was.
But still. I’m not bringing that up.
“He’s not some shining knight in armor, okay?” I sit near the vanity.
“Come on, Paloma!” Eva groans.
Pasiphae cuts in. “Guys, I’ll be visiting Rebekah later today. We’re meeting up with a group from college—there’s a party. Do you want to come?”
I blink. I didn’t know she was friends with Rebekah. Then again, I’ve never really known the full list of her rich friends. Her dad’s pretty affluent, so it’s not that surprising she’d know the Vegas too.
But something twists inside me when she says college. It’s always that word. College.
The thing I never got to have, not because I didn’t want it but because I couldn’t afford it.
And then I married Caden who didn’t want me going to school. His excuse was those college boys would look at me and he didn’t want anyone taking me away.
The worst part is he could have helped me go. He had the money but wanted a housewife. So, I became one while trying to convince him. A housewife who memorized the changing scents on his clothes. Who learned every shift in his cologne just to confirm he was with someone else every time he got back from work.
So now, hearing college—it just makes something in me wilt.
“I’m not sure.” I murmur.
“Oh come on, it’s gonna be fun!” Pasiphae presses.
“Leave her alone. She doesn’t want to.” Eva knows why. She knows without me having to explain. Pasiphae should know too but perhaps, she has forgotten.
“Eva, you can come too. It’s at the Rio Club owned by the Vegas, so drinks are free. And Paloma, listen—these rich kids are going to be there. You could network. You work for Mrs. Flora Vega. That’s something you can mention, something that might lead to more gigs. Think about it.”
That part... actually makes sense.
Eva raises an eyebrow. “Rich kids like you, Pasiphae?”
“They’re Rebekah’s friends. And they spend money like it’s water.”
“Would they even want us to be there?” I ask, already imagining their eyes, their clothes, the way they’d look at us like we don’t belong.
“You’re my friends,” Pasiphae says. “They won’t think too much about it. Plus, we’re going to party. Come on, Paloma. If you say yes, Eva will say yes too. I’ll be at the Vega mansion in, like, three hours to join you and Rebekah.”
“Fine.” I give in with a tiny sigh.
“Yes!” Pasiphae screams before ending the call first.
“Goodness, are you sure about this? These are rich kids. We don’t roll with them.”
“But maybe we need to. How long are you going to keep working at that bar, Eva?”
She doesn’t say anything.
“We’ve been stuck downtown our whole lives and what has it ever done for us? You have dreams, remember? You want to create the most beautiful handmade bags in the city but you’re still behind a counter wiping glasses.”
“You know what I think? I think you should take one of your bags tonight.”
“What?” she blinks.
“Yes. Just one. The one you keep hiding in your closet. Your work is good, Eva and don’t say no!” I quickly add, pointing at her through the screen. “Because I’m literally in the house of Caden’s relatives, under Elijah’s nose and I’d like to believe I’m fully out of my comfort zone so you don’t have an excuse, okay?”
“Alrighhtttt…” Eva drags the word out.
I blow her a kiss before the call ends.
It’s time to get to work.
- Writer
