Chapter Four | Um, Come Again?
A flash of lightning illuminated my bedroom in a hazy glow. Rain pounded against the window and thunder groaned from outside. I was curled up in a ball, my forehead resting against the cold window pane. Although I had been up for hours, I could barely pull myself out of bed. Elizabeth expected me at her office today at seven o'clock. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes before reluctantly stumbling into my bathroom.
After a quick shower I brushed my teeth and applied a bit of concealer underneath my eyes so I didn't look like a sleepy zombie. I debated on mascara but decided against it -- too much effort. To finish off my casual look I put on my favorite pair of leggings paired with an oversized sweater and a pink beanie. Fashionable? Nope. Comfortable? Definitely. My aunt was already painting in her studio when I walked by. "Going somewhere?" She asked in surprise.
"My new job awaits," I groaned.
Her eyes twinkled with amusement. "Try not to have too much fun."
I poked my tongue at her as I exited our apartment into the pouring rain. I tried my best not to get wet, but by the time I had reached the subway station I was dripping. In hindsight, I probably should have brought an umbrella. My clothes were now drenched and my hair was wet and stringy. One crowded subway ride later I was standing outside the entrance of Elizabeth's building. The glass doors seemed larger and scarier than I remembered and the lobby was packed with people.
I took a reassuring breath and opened the door. I was instantly hit by a wall of frigid air conditioning. My Converse squeaked as I walked up to the front desk, leaving puddles of water in my wake. "Hello! I have an appointment with Elizabeth." I tried to keep my voice steady but my teeth were chattering.
A different lady was attending the front desk. She looked up in surprise. "Um, is she expecting you?" She had long blonde hair and bright pink fingernails. "I'm not allowed to let you in unless you're, like, on the list." She pretended to look apologetic.
"Please? I need to speak with her -- she's expecting me!"
"Sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"But--"
"Don't make me call security," She snapped, narrowing her eyes.
"Is there a problem here?" A voice behind us asked. My jaw dropped as I turned around to see a very angry Elizabeth.
"Of c-course not," the lady at the front desk stammered. “It's j-just that she wanted t-to see you, and she didn't--”
"Enough, Ava.” Elizabeth silenced her with the flick of her wrist. “Get back to work. I don't want to hear another word from you. Got it?” Ava gulped before nodding. "And Felicity? Would you like to explain why you're making puddles in my lobby?"
I turned bright red. "Well, I got caught in the rain and. . ."
"So taking a taxi never occurred to you?" Elizabeth seethed. I paused before shaking my head in embarrassment. "Take the elevator to floor three and tell Mirella you need a new outfit from the archives. I can't have my employees catching colds -- it's a waste of money and time. This better not happen again," Elizabeth hissed in warning. I nodded before scurrying to the elevator in search of Mirella (she was the lady who attended the front desk when I first filled out my application).
The elevator was packed with fashion interns, models, and men with briefcases. When the elevator finally stopped my eyes widened in surprise. This floor was absolutely massive! I timidly walked up to the desk and was relieved to see Mirella. "Hello," I smiled. "Elizabeth wanted me to change out of my wet clothes, um . . ."
Mirella gasped. "You're shaking! Here, follow me." The archives, I later learned, was where they kept every clothing piece ever used in their photoshoots. We walked by rooms large enough to be stores until we finally stopped at the end. "This room has our casual clothing," Mirella explained. "I'll find you a cup of tea while you look. And don't tell anyone I said this but take whatever you like -- they'll never notice if something is gone.” She giggled devilishly before disappearing in search of a cup of tea.
"No sweat-pants?" I whispered to myself as I began searching for a warm outfit. I quickly learned, however, that these clothes were far from "casual". Long Ralph Lauren gowns were clustered meticulously in one corner, with shirts from Marc Jacobs and Gucci thrown in the mix. I gulped. Where to begin? After about fifteen minutes of searching I eventually decided on a pair of navy overalls with a white shirt and cardigan. I managed to make my hair look semi-presentable by pulling it back into a ponytail. Mirella returned quickly with a steaming mug of rosehip tea.
“Great outfit! Chanel, right? I'll take your wet clothes for you and you can stop by the offices later to pick them up.”
”You're the best.”
“I know,” She grinned. “Now hurry! Elizabeth hates waiting.”
+ + + + + +
And Elizabeth did hate waiting.
“Get in the car!” She snapped when I finally got to the lobby.
“The car?” I asked in confusion.
“Do you have a hearing impairment? Get in the car! C-A-R!”
I was too frightened to argue. Elizabeth had a Mercedes Benz waiting at the curb, complete with a chauffer. I nervously sunk into the back seat, oblivious to our destination. What could my job possibly be? What if Elizabeth was a psycho mass murderer? And here I just assumed that I would have a part-time job fetching coffee and running errands when I finished ballet school. My bewilderment only grew the farther we travelled. “Uh, Elizabeth?”
“Hmm?” She replied distractedly.
“Where exactly are you taking me?” We had just stopped alongside one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in New York City. The old, posh buildings bordered on Central Park and practically screamed class.
“My apartment, of course.”
“Your apartment?”
“Felicity, I have two twin daughters. And you're going to be their babysitter.”
“Um, come again?”
[ okaaaaay, so i know what you're thinking. WHY HAVEN'T YOU BEEN UPDATING? but c'mon guys i just started school and i have literally no time in my life. sad, isn't it? anyways my sister and i went to target yesterday and we spent two hours trying on onesies. the saddest part? i'm 100% serious. ]
[ photo of felicity jones >>> on the right ]
