Blue Plaid

Duct Tape

In which Stella contemplates the many uses of duct tape.

//

"Thanks for shopping with us. Come back soon!"

I shot the saleswoman a polite smile as I pulled my shopping bags from the counter and looped them over my arm. As they settled in the crook of my elbow, I dug through my purse to pull out my phone.

After typing in the passcode, I groaned in frustration when I noticed no new messages. I had been texting Georgia incessantly for the past hour and she had yet to respond.

I'd recently been hired to be the face of a casual chic clothing company that had just gone national. As a result, and in an effort to promote their clothing, they'd given me a budget of one thousand dollars to spend in their stores. And as much as I adored clothing, I wasn't particularly good at shopping. Georgia was generally extremely helpful in that area.

So I'd texted asking if she wanted to join me on my quest to look good for work, but she was apparently ignoring me. Sighing, I dropped my phone back into my purse and pushed open the door, breathing deeply as I stepped onto the sidewalk.

It was warm for June, but a light breeze lifted the ends of my hair and I pushed my black fedora further down on my head as I strolled down the street. People watching was my favorite thing to do in the city. The locals were out in full force, hurrying in and out of shops as they ran errands and just generally enjoyed the vibrant city vibe.

If anyone ever tells you that New York isn't the best city on earth, they're either lying, or they don't know what they're talking about.

I'd loved this city since I was a kid. And once I'd decided that modeling was my career of choice, I'd made it my mission to move here. Best decision ever.

Humming happily, I practically skipped down the street, skidding to a stop when two young girls stepped into my path. They looked to be about fifteen, dressed in skirts and button up shirts as though they'd just gotten out of school.

The one on the right, with auburn hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, looked at me shyly. "Hi Stella. We're big fans and we were wondering if we could get a picture."

I blinked. Surely I'd misheard her. I'd only just recently become the face of a major brand and I was under the impression that not many people knew who was. My expression broke into a wide smile and I nodded as my cheeks flushed.

"Of course," I replied breathily.

They giggled excitedly, settling into either side of me as the other one held up her phone and snapped a picture.

"Thank you," they gushed simultaneously.

"Of course," I answered, smiling brightly. "Is there anything else I can do for you lovely ladies?"

They shook their heads, raising their hands in waves as they scurried down the sidewalk in the other direction.

"I must be hallucinating."

I froze, my fingers automatically balling into fists. I'd recognize that damn accent anywhere. Combined with those deep tones that made you feel like you were drowning in chocolate, it had the capability to make men and women alike weak at the knees. It really was a shame that the person it was attached to was such an annoying human being.

Sighing, I spun on my heels and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Tyson."

"I'm serious," he deadpanned. "This must be an alternate universe because I could swear I just saw you be kind to another person."

I glared at him, but he seemed unaffected. At this point, it probably didn't matter. Sarcastic and biting banter was how our relationship seemed to work.