SCARLET MEETS MILA

11

No POV

Days pass, and the James-Ramirez household has never been so cold. Voices flicker in the depths of wealth, and the bound contract of love strains further than that of the land beneath their feet.

Mila pains herself five floors away from her home, the motion of chaos nothing like she is used to. She does well to manage the team of young interns, and she's certain that she'll be here forever as the days pass her by. It's agony, walking through those doors only to be left alone with her thoughts while floors away, Scarlet busies herself with the new launch.

Fox hands the black gown a needle, and Scarlet shuffles on her knees to meticulously stitch against a models body. She doesn't leave the floor for the entire day. The gorgeous girls all in awe to be working so closely with the woman they admire. They crowd her, watching as she works each piece of material by hand.

"Leg up." She taps the girls thigh and bends her neck to add a thin piece of lace beneath the line of her crotch. "Here." She commands, the girl above now staying as still as she can as not to mess up in front of her usually distant boss.

"Looks great, Scar." Fox praises.

Scarlet pushes a pin between her lips and lifts her brows. "Mhm." Her hands fold and crease, stitching with such skill, the garment comes to life with little effort and less time. "Give me your thigh, baby-girl." The model twists, and Scarlet uses her palm to position her as she pleases. "Right there."

"You think we're gonna get this done?" Fox cuts a few stray pieces of fabric and waves over the next model to meet him. "We've never completed a campaign in this amount of time before."

"You've never had me on the floor before." Her eyes dart up to look at him, and he shifts with a nervous chuckle. "If you stand around talking all day, we may just fall behind, though." She winks seductively. "I'm gonna need you to push on the pace, Foxy."

"Yes ma'am." He drops to his knees and begins draping the model in front.

Across the way, Harlow stands in her office doorway and watches the floor flood with activity. "Never seen it so alive in here." Dina chuckles. "She wasn't kidding, huh?"

Harlow smirks. "Nope." Her smug grin lights a fire within Dina now clutching Scarlet's requested publicity portfolio. "She's about to make history."

"Well I've just taken a look at the promo." She waves the folded in her palm. "I'm terrified."

"Good." Harlow winks. "That's what she wants."

"It's my job to make sure she's making safe decisions, you know that, right?" She laughs anxiously. "I'm not here to kill the mood, but my stomach is in knots right now."

Harlow wets her lower lip and turns to face the petite girl beside her. "Scarlet knows what she's doing. I know it's a little out there, but this is the comeback she has been waiting for." Dina swallows hard. "Safe is not an option this time."

Dina nods, looking out to study Scarlet ahead, commanding her girls with a dominant hand. "Is it weird that I'm a little scared of her right now?"

Harlow shrugs with a laugh. "Nothing to be scared of as long as you deliver." She explains. "For this to work, it has to be done right. We're at her mercy right now. If she tells you to do something, you best do it."

"I didn't sleep last night." Dina sighs. "She had me covering every single point in the book. You know, I wrote sixteen different statements?"

Harlow widens her eyes. "She's on the war path, Dina." She flips her hair over her shoulder and sighs. "I wouldn't have expected anything less." Dina hands the folder into Harlow's outstretched palm. "Come on, we have shit to do."

Models linger, waiting for their turn with the various designers Scarlet commissioned to help out last minute on the campaign. Thankfully, her little black book is oozing with industry names more than willing to devote their time to the raven haired empress.

Nobody halts in Scarlet's company. They know better than to stand around. A single glance around has bodies shifting and pretending to be busy. She holds power like no other, and nobody, not even Harlow has the nerve to question nor disobey her command.

"Ma'am." Avery, the cute receptionist interrupts. "Carlos is here for you."

"Carlos?" She grunts. "I'm busy, baby?"

Avery shrugs with a guilty smile. "He said it's urgent?"

Scarlet stands, wiping her hands while another designer rushes to take over. "Send him in."

Carlos peers into the office and closes the door behind him gently, looking down at Scarlet's bleeding fingertips. "Blood sweat and tears?"

"What is it, Carlos?" She asks impatiently.

The man rushes to hand her a document. "The international body is asking for mock ups of the campaign for approval." He clears his throat and pulls at the knot of his tie. "They're worried about your intention to keep the bullet in the barrel."

Scarlet scans the document briefly before handing it back with a snap. "Is it not your job to handle it?" She cocks a brow. "You assured me you had this in hand?"

"I have it handled." He nods. "I just wanted to know if you'd prefer I make a statement."

"I'd prefer you keep them in the dark." She states. "I will be handing them millions in revenue, I'm sure they can sit tight and trust my judgment."

"Absolutely." He agrees. "Just- I'm worried you may risk being censored."

She smirks, walking toward him. "Baby, I am the biggest name in fashion right now. This campaign will only remind them of that." Carlos stiffens when she reaches his tie, straightening it over his chest. "Now, if you're not up to the task of managing their financial expectations, I'll go find someone who can."

"Ma'am, I have never let you down." He panics. "I don't intend to change that."

"Then why are you standing in my office with that look on your face?" She looks him dead in the eye. "I have a lot to do, and you're wasting my time."

"I apologise." He stammers, intending to walk away only to be snatched back by the cuff of his wrist.

"This campaign is lights out, darkness until the spotlights hit the runway." Her tone darkens. "You best hope you're not the one to fuck that up. I'd hate to see such a talented man lined up outside of the job fair. Are we understood, Carlos?"

"Ye- yes ma'am" he nods passionately, bowing almost as he steps back toward the door. "You can count on me."

"Perfect."