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"I'm sorry Sir, but she's very busy!" Sophia's assistant tells me. It's fucking six in the evening.
"But-" the line goes dead. It goes fucking dead.
Why is she even at the office at this time? I've been trying to call her for the last five fucking hours. I'm losing it now. I close my laptop, grab my keys and walk out my office.
"Good evening Sir."
"Evening Boss."
"Sir." they all greet me as I walk to the elevator.
I don't even respond, the only thing on my mind is Sophia.
Maybe Jace or Myra heard from her.
I quickly find Jace's number, he picks up on the second ring.
"Have you heard from Soph?" I ask him, hitting the first floor.
"Good evening to you too, yeah I'm okay, I'm alive. Sophia? No, I haven't." I roll my eyes at his attitude. If I said something he'd probably throw a pack of antibacterial wipes, in coconut scent at me.
"Alright." I sigh.
"Why though? Is she okay? Did you two kiss and she's avoiding you?" he asks as I walk out the elevator and into the underground garage.
"No that was last week," I mumble without thinking. Jace literally fucking screams through the phone.
"You kissed Soph!?" he yells. Great going you asshat.
"Can we not talk about this now?" I ask him, entering my car.
"Bro you kissed Sophia after so many fucking years, I never thought you'd do it at this point. Fuck, I owe Myra twenty dollars!" Of course they bet on it.
"Don't you have patients to take care of?"
"Don't you have some explaining to do?"
"You're stressing me out, bye," I mumble hanging up, as I pull onto the streets of New York.
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"Okay, maybe change the color," I mumble, raising the pencil in my hand to my lips.
"Or not, God I don't know!" I huff as frustration takes me over. Vouge requested one of my dresses in their magazines, but they wanted a different dress, something more vintage than the modern-day designs. I love vintage clothing but when you're working with a tight deadline and a very strict request, you tend to overthink, change, and move around everything!
