Chapter 3

6 0 0
                                    

I silently gulp and walk slowly to my boss's office and roll my eyes at the golden words carved on her wooden door, 'Lady Dolivo's Office'.
Lady indeed, I resist the urge to roll my eyes before knocking on the door and hear her high- pitched voice calling me to come in. I try to smile as I walk into her very luxurious white and silver office.
"Good morning, Mrs. Dolivo, you called?" I greet the middle-aged woman who's sitting on her desk, drinking her coffee and observing drawings of her dresses plastered on her board.
She doesn't even bother to look at me. I sometimes think she's scared I would burst her office into flames and burn her alive, not that I haven't had the idea before, but I couldn't possibly do that. Mainly because I don't have the gift to do so. Our story is spread across the district and a wide majority of people believe in the tale, since my ancestors' gifts were on everyone's tongue. The story passed from our small town to several cities nearby. I keep my smile plastered on my face and wait for her to acknowledge me.
"Yes, I know Ella, just take a look at these outfits. Aren't they extraordinary?" she says, snatching the sketches from the board and placing them gently in front of me.
I smile and nod my head in agreement. I personally think that she added a lot of unnecessary bows and exaggerated with the amount of glitter on the shoulders. One of them had too many ribbons on its skirt, it made the entire outfit out of fashion. I wonder how this woman made it as the best designer in this city.
"As you might have heard, Devine was fired. So, congratulations, you have been promoted as sales manager," she says nonchalantly.
I nod my head and try to keep my fake gratitude smile.
"That's very generous of you, Ms. Dolivo, but I'm not fit for this position," I say waiting for her reaction. When she doesn't say anything, I proceed, "I studied fashion and have a degree. My job as sales manager isn't quite suitable. I've brought my sketches with me, and I'm hoping you would give me a chance to prove myself as a fashion designer,"
I take out my sketches and give them to her. She takes a quick glance and sneers; she takes my drawings in her fists and crumples them into a large ball.
"These, my dear, are horrible. If you didn't tell me you drew them, I would've assumed a child was drawing a princess dress she watches on television." Dolivo says mockingly. She throws my sketches into the trash next to her and turns back to her computer.
I calmly stand up and take my drawings from the trash and put them in my bag. Annie has been working for this woman for years, with a smile stuck on her face and handles the tasks she's given ever so politely and keeps nodding her head, refusing to let Dolivo down. Annie went through a lot with Dolivo. She keeps getting humiliated and yelled no matter what she did, but in my case, I refuse to let anyone humiliate me or mock my art, especially that talentless woman. I can't be like Annie, not even for a day. I can't act calm or behave the way she does when Dolivo's around. I shoot Dolivo a death glare and walk to her desk where her ugly sketches were still displayed on the desk. Several ideas are occurring to me right now. I don't know whether to rip the drawings or abuse her office. Either way, I won't leave her office humiliated like this. I'm not the type to stay silent when something goes wrong. I take them and watch her looking at me curiously.
"You know what I think, Amanda? This dress's bow is too large to be placed on the chest and is perfect to hide your ugly face if you wear it. Not a coincidence you thought of making it up, is it? This one has a horrible diversity of colors. I assume you were inspired by the puke you throw up after drinking all night, thinking about why you end up living alone. This one, I assure you; you accidently tore the arms of the dress and couldn't sew it back, so you decided to cover it with glitter. I've been working in this hell hole for three years and I've been doing my best to aid this company, but you don't deserve it. I had to deal with your bitchy attitude every day and I can't handle it anymore. I quit."
I say that loudly, making sure everyone in the building hears me. Mind you, I don't like attention but this woman needs to be taught a lesson. Every time she comes to work, her nose touches the ceiling and I think it's unhealthy for her neck. I depart from her office, leaving behind me her menacing screams and curses at me. I wear a mocking smile as I pass a crowd of people who were obviously ears dropping. I'm not shocked at the slightest to see a few clapping silently and giving me hushed praises, but one thing caught my eye; I stand shocked at my sister who is looking at me wide-eyed and a huge grin etched on her face. She grabs my shoulder and steers me into my office. I notice that my things are already packed in boxes and ready to be taken away. I stare at her perplexed as she gives me a wink, she grabs a couple of boxes and puts them under her arms. She nods at the door for me to follow. I take the rest of the boxes and follow Blaise to her car. We place my luggage in the backseat and hop inside. Once we leave the building, a moment of realization hit me; I'm jobless, I disrespected my boss, and I called her a bitch. I sigh loudly and run my hand through my hair, my mood suddenly changes from euphoria to anger. I'm very close to breaking down and my sister here is humming a song on the radio and smiling to herself.
"Blaise, what the hell did I do?" I yell angrily.
"You created history!" Blaise cheers.
"I just quit my job," I state frustratingly.
My sister doesn't reply, she simply smirks at me and stops in front of a restaurant. I get out of the car confused. I thought we're having spaghetti today. Silently, I follow my sister to a table whose seats are attached to a wall. She sits in front of me and gives me a broad smile.
I return a glare and cradle my head on my palms. I've always admired her positive mood, but right now, I can't bring myself to smile back. I hear her huff and call my name. I look up to see her staring at me closely as if I would suddenly throw a tantrum at her any second.
"Stella...I wanted to break the news after lunch and when we're getting ice cream, but I don't think you'll last till then. I found you another job," Blaise says lowly.
My eyes perk up at her and widen. My lips twitch into a smile and stare disbelievingly at my sister.
"What? How?" I say almost in a whisper.
Before she can reply, a waiter comes to our table and takes our orders. My sister orders a French onion soup with extra garlic bread on the side and I order a steak, potato wedges, and gravy on the side. Once he leaves, I give my sister my full attention, and flash a broad grin.
"I was in my office when two gentlemen entered," she says turning completely red, "one of them is an author and wanted me to edit his book. He gave the office a call last week for an appointment. When I gave him my card, he was shocked to see that we're from the Adhara family. He then asked me where we lived, so I told him in Griffin Tail. You should've seen the look on his face, he was so shocked he started jumping in my office. He then gave me his identification card: his name is Edward Varon and the man who was with him is Arthur Varon."
My jaw drops instantly, my thoughts are running wild, the Varon family are relatives of ours. In our mansion, a magical drawing of a family tree grows on a large wall in our living room. Whenever a new member joins our family, the tree grows a new branch with their name on it. I always check the tree and try to memorize each member. The Varon's family are the closest to us. But they haven't tried to contact us, afraid that they will be cursed. However, we always hear in our town that my uncle came to visit along with his son my parents' grave. They never stop by, but they send us their greetings and deliver us a few gifts on the doorstep. I doubt that the curse is still working, my sister thinks it was broken years ago. But the rest of the family thinks otherwise. I shake the thoughts away and continue to focus on my sister's interaction with our relatives.
"Your uncle was over the moon to see me, but he was getting jumpy and checking the office every now and then as if a sword was going to fly across the room and stab him across the chest. Anyway, we had a really long chat about our lives. His son, Edward, is a new litterateur, and that's his first book he has written. His father owns a fashion company and he needs some genius minds to help him become successful. So...I showed him your designs and turns out that he liked them so much that he requested to meet you in person next week on Monday."
"But how? We never heard of his company before."
"Yes, because the villagers are so ecstatic to talk to us," Blaise says rolling her eyes, "they only talk to us when they want us to stay away from their newborn babies, in case we curse them,"
Her eyebrows crease in anger and her eyes hold frustration and sadness.
"I think they're hilarious," I say, shrugging my shoulder, trying to lift her mood by grinning sheepishly.
"Hilarious? Do I need to remind you of the day we were blamed for a murder of a lamb? And when Tobias found it with only its bones and a pool of blood around it, he immediately called all the villagers to attack us, while his wife fainted dramatically in her house," Blaise says, making me burst out in laughter.
I remember this day very clearly. It happened a year ago. In the morning, our neighbor found one of his lambs dead in the fields. He started yelling along with his fellow farmers that we had cursed the lamb and tortured it for fun. The entire town came to our mansion, forcing us out, but my sister was too quick for them. She called the police after shutting the door with such force, the ground shook in my home. When the police arrived at the crime scene, they did whatever it takes not to laugh or beat them with anger. It was obvious that a wolf had snatched it overnight and ended up eating it, like any wild animal would do. Since then, we have been free from their horrid assumptions, but I know that we will never get rid of their dramatic scenarios.
"I remember, I also remember you pushing me in the bathroom to hide," I say after finishing my uncontrollable fit of laughter.
"Try not to cause Arthur such trouble. We don't need mad villagers bursting into his office, it was a miracle he came in today."
"Yeah, it was truly a gift from the stars."

Star of Success Where stories live. Discover now