Chapter Four

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I feel the chilly breeze of wind dance across my face, I pull the covers to cover my body and smile at the cool weather. I love it when it's quiet in the morning, chilly breezes slip here and there, making me giggle like a child. I'm rather enjoying my time in my cozy bed, but I know that I have to get up for the interview today. Unfortunately, my uncle's company is half an hour away from my house, so I have to wake up early to get there on time.
I take out white jeans and tuck in a black shirt and wrap myself in a coat. I slip my high heel boots on and let my hair fall neatly on my shoulders. I prepare myself a cup of coffee and hop in my car and drive to the city.
I'm already in a great mood, the past week I spent most of time in the house, cleaning and redecorating. I was just so bored of the same old-fashioned designs in the place, the house looks dead. So, I took my time thinking of new ideas to make the house look modern, and all it took was a little bit of my magic. The old worn sofas are now brightly white, I also took the cushions and twisted them so they'd change into brown instead of the shady red. The coffee table has been 'accidently' broken and remodeled into a wooden rectangular one. I placed some white roses into a vase and put it on the table. It took me a week to change the entire house. My sister was amazed when she returned from work, she kept running around the house and exploring it while I laid on the sofa tiredly.
I soon find myself driving to a building, the word 'Varon' carved in black on stone above the building's door. I was surprised to see that the two windows that are shown on the streets are completely empty. I walk in the building wondering how I'm going to survive this place; the shelves and stands in the entrance are almost empty. A few hats and bags lied here and there, but for someone who has special gifts, I expected better. I take the elevator and make it to my stop. I walk straight forward to my uncle's office and knock twice. The door swings open and a tall man with thick brown locks and big green eyes ushers me in excitedly. He takes my hand and shakes it several times.
"Hello I'm Edward Varon, you must be Stella. My father is waiting for you inside," he says everything too quickly and runs into his dad's office. It's not like Dolivo but it's quite neat: a luxurious wooden table, a few leather sofas and a bill board with his art on it.
I smile at my uncle who jumps from his chair and runs to hug me tightly. I awkwardly pat his back and smile tightly. He finally lets go and looks at me in awe with his sea blue eyes, I take in his chubby figure that's dressed up in a white polo shirt and an elegant brown jacket, fit with dark blue jeans. He lets out a whistle and runs his hand on his bald head.
"You have your father's eyes, and you look so much like your mother. Edward, three cups of tea, son."
Edward eagerly nods and leaves the room. I sit on the leathery chairs in front of him and wait for him to start the conversation.
"So, Stella, your sister told me pretty much everything about your lives. And most importantly your talents, when Blaise showed me your drawings, I immediately told her I want you in my company." my uncle says proudly.
Edward returns with our tea and sits next to me as he hands me the mug. I take it and smile.
"If I show you my designs, can you maybe fix them or redesign them?" my uncle takes a couple of sketches from his drawer and present them in front of me. I take a look at each one and start scratching with a pencil, my uncle gives me.
The first sketch has a plain white dress, it's drawn too tightly on the body. On its waistline a large skirt drops at the model's ankle, I had a faint idea of fixing a small detail rather than erasing the entire thing. My uncle really has a great taste. I look at my uncle and wait for him to approve, he nods eagerly and points at the sketch for me to continue.
I smile a bit and draw a simple pattern on the model's bodice, and color it with gold. I also add a golden belt on its waist and draw the skirt from the front of the dress. I tilt my head at one side and study it any further, after taking a moment and running my pencil lightly at the paper, I decide that I'm not going to ruin it by adding a dentelle to the skirt. I'll leave it as simple as it is.
The second one I try my best to keep my face blank, it was quite shocking the way he drew it: two pieces of clothing were stitched together, a backless, silver bodice attached to a short, that reached mid-thigh on the left side of the body. On it's right, a black coat that reached its knees. I figured what my uncle's imagination led him, but he drew it wrong.
I bring my pencil to the left and change the shorts to pants, I also erase the horrid color and make it a transparent orchid color and draw a mid-sleeve. On the bodice I add a white bustier without a shoulder line. Instead of the coat, I draw a white overhaul that's still stitched to the clothing, and wrap a white fabric around the waist, combining both outfits.
I look up from my paper and find my uncle's eyebrows raised and his smile stretching widely across his face.
"I want you on the field immediately," he mutters with a look of triumph on his face.

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W

e walk to the atelier workshop and stop at the balcony above the rest of the designers who are working on their mannequins. A few workers caught my eye with their outfits, and others ruined their designs with exaggerating jewels and horrible colors of fabric that are mingled with each other.
"What do you think?" my uncle whispers next to me.
"I like some of them, but this one needs to be burnt with passion," I say pointing at a yellow dress with brown dentelle that is sewn from the hem of the skirt to its bodice.
I hear my uncle snort in response and nod once.
"You do you," he says, "time is up,"
I look at him perplexed and open my mouth to inquire him to demonstrate what he means, when I get interrupted by his booming voice.
"Alright folks, I would like to take a moment before I take a look at your designs," he says as he grabs my shoulder gently, "this is Stella Adhara, my niece. And she will start working with us from now. I would also like to announce that there will be changes shortly and I'm getting a feeling that we will have a successful wave soon."
He waves his hand at the mannequins in a gesture, motioning me to walk before him. We stop by the first one and touch the fabric with my fingers. It's so silky and neat, the dress looks very simple, but it needed a bit of craziness.
"What do you think?" he asks tilting his head to the side.
"I would add a few colors from the chest to the thigh," I say as I motion my finger in a slash to demonstrate my idea.
My uncle nods and smiles, he gives me the pad and a pencil from the designer's hand who gave me an odd look, but not in a critical manner for suggesting my idea; he was indulgent and took a step to see my work. I add a few fabrics here and there and show it to my uncle and the designer who I don't know his name yet. All I can tell about him is that he has a good sense of style but needs to, sometimes, take a risk. They both nod in approval, and the young guy gives me a smile of admiration to which I return shyly. It's not my place to change their style and tell them what to do, I didn't even spend a day here and now my uncle is making me walk around all of the well experienced designers and rate their work.
We pass the rest and add a few changes to each one. My uncle orders a mannequin and gives me some silk and fabric in order to knit something up. I end up eventually with a one sleave, short, navy dress, mid-thigh, and a long skirt at one side, the other side is silver and I knit a silver fabric on the neckline. When I finish adding my last touches on the bodice, I take the skirt and fix it so it would flow on the floor, I turn to look at my uncle for approval, not realizing that he, and the entire room, were watching me work with shocked faces and eyes flooded with admiration.

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