One Night in New York

Chapter One

One night can change everything, leading us down a path we never expected. Just when we thought there was no hope left, someone appears in the right place at the right time.

I was late. I always seemed to be late for everything. The only thing that ever seemed to be on time was my menstrual cycle, making me feel so pathetic at times. I had to be at work in thirty minutes, and there was no way I would walk through that door as scheduled. My home was twenty minutes away from my job, but in New York City time, that's about an hour. I didn't know it then, but that one day in New York would change my life in ways I never thought possible.

My name is Natalie Carter. I moved to New York City when I started college, attempting to pursue my career in the fashion industry, as well as, one day, finding someone to share the rest of my life with. There was bound to be someone for me, with living in such a bustling city, or at least I hoped. That's what I thought when I moved there, anyway. I had never been much to look at, but I guess I could have been worse, not being a beauty queen by any means, just your typical run-of-the-mill girl next door.

I was average in height; standing five foot four, and weighing one hundred and twenty-eight pounds, with dull brown hair, and piercing green eyes. My locks were forever sitting in a messy bun on top of my head, and my fashion was the worst. Many would think for someone who studied fashion, that I would at least have a sense of it. I usually wore dresses, form-fitting at the top, flowing a little at the hips, and sexy, but I felt mine sat awkwardly. I had to dress up six out of the seven days a week for work, but it was more like I was trying too hard. See, I was more of a leggings and hoodie type of girl, with the occasional comfy boots when it's cold out, but mostly sneakers, so dressing up was never my thing. I wanted to design fashion, not dress myself in it.

Where did it all begin for me? I got accepted into FIT in New York City right out of high school. I was elated as I came from a small town outside of Youngstown, Ohio, called Austintown. Most probably haven't heard of it unless you lived there; not many people have. I got my degree in Fashion Design, wanting to design for the mass market; that was my dream anyway. High-end women's power suits were my forte, with completed samples to prove it. So did I become a big-time fashion designer, selling my designs to huge chains, or even an assistant designer? No, not even close. So what did I have to show for all of my hard work? Answering phones, coffee runs, and errands, that's what I had to show for it. Well, at least in the beginning, getting ahead in the industry was hard, and I began to see just how hard.

Where did I live? Most would think I lived in a lavish apartment while living in New York City.  Well, I wished, but that wasn't where I would end up in the beginning. I stayed with my roommate, Angie Harrington. We lived twenty minutes from my work on Madison ave, in a tiny two-bedroom apartment on Market St. Even though I worked and lived in New York City, it was simply impossible to have my apartment on my own.  I made thirty thousand dollars a year, and my rent was twenty-seven hundred a month. We split the cost, but still, anyone could do the math. With my bills and student loans that I was paying back, there was never much left in the end.

So, what about Angie? She was my confidante, my best friend, the person who knew everything about me. She is a tall, beautiful, slender African American woman with brown hair and brown eyes. She was a native New Yorker who grew up in Brooklyn and was one of the most fearless women I knew. When she wanted something, she went for it with all her might. And she always got it. Angie was a complete force to be reckoned with almost every day, thanks to her tenacity. We met at FIT and instantly clicked; opposites, but best friends nonetheless. And did I mention that while I was stuck working as a receptionist, Angie worked as an assistant designer where I worked, earning nearly $60,000 per year? I should have been envious, as some would be, but how could I be angry with her? I was a little jealous, but I was happy for her, never feeling resentment for her taking off further than me.