He'd gone beyond his player ways for her.
She'd grown beyond her traumatic past for him.
Together, their love was beyond.
Until one fatal accident.
__________
When she loses the love of her life in a car crash, Althea has nothing left in California...
'When we first dropped our bags on apartment floors
Took our broken hearts, put them in a drawer
Everybody here was someone else before.'
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
*ALTHEA'S POV*
October 9, 2023.
Angular shapes blurring in the fog, sharp peaks cutting through the clouds, a faint glow coming from the horizon, granite beige, steel gray, and every possible shade in-between matching the gloomy sky.
People said the view from the top of a skyscraper brought you closer to heaven. But all I saw was the fuzzy reflection of my black outfit before the New York scenery as I smoothed the sheath dress for the umpteenth time, and I would have surely caught the shakes of my fingers too if the door hadn't opened at this exact second, turning my attention back inside the earthy space.
"Mrs. Price, Mr. Sullivan, here is Althea Vesper," Linda introduced as I quickly crossed the meeting room, holding my hand out.
"It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise, we've heard a lot of good things about you." The woman dressed in an immaculate white suit nodded to Linda, her knowing smile contrasting with the older man by her side, whose frown only deepened as he shook my hand and took my figure in from my black ballet flats to the top of my sleek ponytail, one head above him.
Mr. Sullivan wasn't fond of politeness and talking in general. Everyone in the company knew about his rough personality. I'd prepared myself for it, and I didn't let it dim my smile as I pointed to the wide oval table in the center of the room.
"Linda told me you don't have much time, so how about we start?"
That way, on the dark leather chairs, we would all be at the same height, and his manly ego wouldn't be offended by my 6-feet height.
Besides, the sooner we started, the sooner it would be over. It seemed to be what everyone was thinking, as Mrs. Price quickly pulled out her pen and papers from a Saint Laurent briefcase, and no one accepted Linda's offer for a coffee.
"So Ms. Vesper, we've already read your cover letter, and your portfolio is impressive for your age, but all of that didn't tell us much about yourself and your motivation to be a creative director at Cute Couture?"
She slid the resume papers on the glass table, as if I hadn't memorized every comma I'd typed, erased, and re-typed a hundred times.
"Well, working in children's fashion has been my dream since I was little, and I think becoming a creative director is the grail for every fashion designer," I explained, my gaze traveling between Mrs. Price and Mr. Sullivan because even if she was the one asking the questions, it was him whose approval would have the most weight in this. "I already love my job at CC as it is, and all the opportunities the company has given me.
