A Miracle In China

"I am married to my career."

"But I am married to my career." I said for the one hundredth time as I raised from the sofa and straightened out my black pencil skirt so that it hugged my legs once more.

"I just think it's time you settled down, that's all." Spoke my mother as I looked at her silvering hair and frail hands. I know she want's grandchildren more than anything but my career is my only focus, and quite frankly, I am not the mothering type. Babies scream, wail and dribble everywhere. At-least, they do whenever I  hold them.

"You are .....never-mind." she started.

"I'm what?" I asked impatiently as I calmed when I saw into her big brown eyes.

"Well...you are 35 now dear." She informed as I rolled my eyes and walked out, closing the wooden door behind me. 

I clicked open my black Mercedes  and slid inside, slipping off my tall suede heels and putting my feet into some red pumps. I started the car and the engine roared before I slowly pulled out and ventured into the busy streets of London. As I travelled down the noisy streets I thought about my mother, but then the car-phone rang.

"Hello?" I spoke as I slowly turned a corner and pulled into work. The large building towered over me as men in suits and ladies in heels entered and exited the building, matching the busy streets and the rush of London.

"Gucci called, they would like you to book a meeting with them." Spoke my assistant, her voice echoing through the car.

"Another one?" I said, exasperated as I rudely ended the call.

I slipped on my high black suede heels before clopping into the building. People nodded with respect as I stride down the marble floors, past the secretary desks where interns slave away for their bosses and walked into my office. 

The white and grey walls decorated with over-priced paintings surrounded me as I placed my bag onto the black leather sofa by the towering glass door. My office is well lit with huge windows looking over the streets of London and a chandelier hanging prettily from the tall ceiling. I strutted over to my desk and sank into my red leather chair. I looked at the stack of cloth placed neatly in the left corner of the room next to the bodies of two mannequins. My assistant must have cleaned up last night as once I start designing I practically bomb the place.

Maisy , my assistant and the latest intern stumbles in with coffees in one hand and piles of papers in the other. Some of the sheets float to the floor as I glared at the mess she was making.

"I'm sorry." She whispered as she placed the coffee onto my desk and straightened up her glasses.

"Speak up girl!" I demanded as she nervously picked up the papers she dropped and walked over to my desk.

"Gucci still want that meeting ma'am." She said clearly this time as she stands promptly in-front of me.

I sighed and swiveled in my chair. A lot of the big designers are dying to work with me. And of course, in my 12 years working here I have worked with many such as Gucci, Tiffany & Co, Dolce and Gabanna etc.  But there is one company I am waiting for, and that is Prada. But apparently, Gucci want to work with me again for the 10th time.

"Tell them I am free this afternoon." I confirmed as I dismissed her from my room, knowing that they will send someone to have the meeting this afternoon because there is no way they would even try to re-schedule.

I stood up and checked my appearance in the red rimmed square mirror. My jet black hair framed my face and twirled loosely to my structured shoulders. I analysed a grey hair peeping through before hiding it away with my other hair. Then I stopped, and just stared at my hazel eyes for a moment, mentally preparing myself for the day ahead.