“Do you have to do that to all of my girls?”
“If they want to work for a woman of your caliber, they have to learn to serve. Besides, she was way too snotty. You have to break her in better than that. Teach her some humility. She’s lucky to be where she is.”
“And she’ll quit if you keep at it,” Dori said.
The office was cramped, with rolls of fabric thrown around over the tiny desk and leaning against the walls. In the corner, there was just enough room for Maria to squeeze in so Dori could take her measurements.
“You’re perfect.” Dori bent down to measure Maria’s height. “Your cheekbones, your curves. Have you ever thought of modeling?”
“She doesn’t consider herself a supermodel,” I answered for her. She went bright red.
“You and I both know she’s wrong. You’ve got a natural shine. I need you here, sweetie. Let me mold you into a work of art.” She took down Maria’s inseam.
“I don’t know. I’m too self-conscious.”
“Nonsense, you’re beautiful.” Dori raised Maria’s arm.
“That’s what I told her, but she won’t listen.”
“I don’t understand it, but I do respect it. Women deserve their dignity, and designers like me should learn to remember that.” Dori pulled a tablet off the pile of material on her desk and started tapping away. “I’ve got to get you some shoes. Do you mind Lorenti?” She gave Maria a somber look.
“I don’t mind at all but I have
to warn you.”
“What’s that?”
“I have three left feet, and I can’t walk in heels.”
“Good, I hate heels.” Dori lifted up her leg to reveal her white flats. “They’re death traps, designed to torture women to make their butts look good. It’s barbaric.”
“You.” She pointed at me.
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You’re not wearing some basic outfit. I will not have my work displayed next to crap. Have your measurements changed?”
“No, but—”
“Ah-ah. What is my rule?”
“Never question the artiste,” I said.
“Exactly. Now go. Both of you. And don’t call me. I’ll call you.” She waved us out of her office just as Candy walked in, juggling our ridiculous orders. She looked right at me and threw my coffee into the bin behind the desk with a flip of her wrist.
“That’s what you get,” Maria said when she grabbed her drink. “He told me to haze you.”
Candy gave me the finger and said, “I know. I spit in his coffee just in case.”
“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” I asked when we got in the car.
“I think she had fun with it.” I turned to look at Maria. She looked back at me nervously. “What?”
“You just had one of the most popular designers in the country tell you she wants you to model her collection and you still think you’re ugly, don’t you?”
Maria scowled. “I don’t understand how somebody could be charming and infuriating at the same time. Half the time, I don’t know whether to punch you or kiss you.”
I dove in and slammed my lips against hers. Her anger surged out into a passionate storm. Her tongue plunged deep into my mouth and her hands moved up my back. Her nails dug in, sending chills through my body. I had to pull back just to keep from losing control.