March 15, 2014 . - 8:00 am .
India Westbrooks . [ mm]
I slung my Micheal Kors purse onto my shoulder and pressed the lock button on my car keys.
I licked my plump lips as I walked into my jobs lobby.
" Hey, How ya' doing?" I forced a small smile, speaking to a couple coworkers as we boarded the elevator.
Since I worked on the 20th floor, it would be a long ride. So, I texted my older sister Crystal to past time.
I sighed, as I stepped off of the elevator.
" India? "
I knew that voice. I rolled my eyes before turning around and forcing a smile.
" Cone to my office please. "
I rubbed my temples as I followed my boss, Ms. Knowles to the office.
I was irritated. Don't get me wrong, my job isn't that bad. I'm a fashion stylist for people with good money. Rich people, celebrities , you name it. At first, it was exciting yet nerve wrecking. I was excited to meet a lot of my celebrities but also scared that they wouldn't like my sense of style.
But, so far , all the people I've worked with seemed to like me as a person and my creative fashion sense. But, after 4 months, I was pretty much over this job. A 17 year old girl like me shoudnt be tied down to a job like this. But, my parents thought otherwise. They own plenty of businesses in LA which is why they're so wealthy. So, I don't see why they don't just continue to support me financially. But, they thought getting a job would help me ' mature '. I guess them niggas are trying to say I'm childish..
I snapped out of my thoughts before I became agitated all over again. I followed Ms.Knowles into her office and took a seat in one of the recliners.
" So..." She started. " You've been doing very well here Ms. Westbrooks. "
" Thank you. I appreciate you giving me this wonderful job. " I lied.
She smiled a little too hard. " Well, I know you've only been styling a few small celebrities. But do you think you could handle the big guns? "
I scrunched my face up, then quickly stopped. What did she mean by that?
I made a thinking face. " What do you mean by big guns Mrs. Knowles? "
I smirked creeped up on her face as she tilted her head, slightly towards the door. I watched as it creaked open.
" Mrs. Westbrooks, I would like you to meet Chris Brown. Do you think you could be his stylist? "
~~~
Just a small lil' introduction.
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