The CEO and Her Driver

Chapter 9

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Two loaves of freshly baked banana bread, a deep clean of the kitchen, and fully reorganizing my closet later, left me wide awake at the wonderful hour of 2 AM. I really need to develop better sleeping habits.

Sitting down at my computer in a pair of giant sweatpants, a tank top, and my hair in a wild messy bun, I finally opened the files that Michale had sent me of the photoshoot. I was excited to see the clothes in action. It made the dream real.

Up until the moment I saw people in the clothes, it always felt like a dream. Like something that only existed in my head. Settling in with a container of banana bread, a fork to eat straight out of said container, and a fuzzy blanket, I opened the file, humming with excitement. Here we go...

I hadn't made it through one picture before I wanted to barf at the expression on my face.

I look so disgustingly smitten. Can I just destroy all the files? I can reshoot, right?

But even with my stupidly happy face that I barely recognized because it felt so foreign to my regular day life, the clothes looked... perfect. More than that. They were the best pieces I had ever designed. I swallowed, blinking back tears. "I did it."

I shoved a large fork of banana bread into my mouth, taking a moment to appreciate my work. I wasn't the best at taking a beat to celebrate a victory, but this one needed to be celebrated. Even if it was with a baked good and a small happy dance at my computer screen.

I was so proud of myself. The entire day had been worth it. I had managed to create something I was so incredibly proud of. Now if only I can have someone else modeling the clothes instead of me... I felt incredibly vulnerable being seen so happy. I hadn't smiled like that... ever.

A part of me wondered if Michale had photoshopped my face but he knew I'd kill him if he tried.

My hands itched for a distraction, to start baking brownies, a three-tiered cake, anything other than looking at the pictures. But I had to go through them. It was literally my job.

The idea of looking through thousands of pictures of me being in a couple outfit suddenly left my heart beating wildly. My breaths became uneven. I could feel myself on the verge of another panic attack.

Memories of past relationships surged to the surface of my mind, threatening to try and drown me. Breathe Allie... Breathe. I told myself.

I reached for my phone, needing to hear a familiar voice. Needing to hear someone who could ground me. I hit my speed dial, my breaths shallow and quick.

"Allie?" my older sister Delle said after the first ring, her voice tired. "You okay?"

My heart began to slow down, relaxing under my sister's concerned tone.  I closed my eyes and leaned back on the couch, tucking the blanket up to my chin. "Panic attack."

Those words were the only explanation needed for why I called my sister at two in the morning.

I heard her shuffle out from under the covers as she sat up. "I'm here," she replied, alert.

"How's Misty?" I asked, keeping my voice even, feeling my body calm down with my sister's voice close to my ear. I just needed her to talk. To remind me that I wasn't alone.

Delle sighed, her tone tired. "She's been better."

I rubbed my temples. "School trouble?"

"I wish. That's easier to solve. You get a tutor when that happens. Or you help with her homework." I heard a coffee machine turn on.