Gossip girl will be coming...
Kiersten flopped onto her bed. She had nothing to do when nobody was there. Stormy was probably being forced to go to Pete's fitting. Alexis was most likely doing something fashion-related. Anne-Marie was probably with Nick. Leaving Kiersten.
"Kiersten?"
Kiersten heard her mother calling her and walked down to the living room. Kiersten saw her standing wearing a cream-colored Burberry cashmere coat.
"Why aren't you dressed?" asked Birgitta Haraldsson-Nordenberg, checking her makeup.
"Where are we going?" Kiersten asked.
"To get you a modeling contract with Ford," Birgitta said, snapping her Chanel compact closed. She had modeled when she was younger, and decided that it was now Kiersten's turn.
Kiersten hurried and returned fully changed into a navy-blue Diane von Furstenberg poplin wrap dress, black tights, and a pair of round-toed Cole Haan kitten heels that matched her dress. Kiersten had usually felt underdressed or like an ugly duckling compared to most of her friends and even her family at times. But this time she shone.
"Let's go, Kiersten," Birgitta said. She had the slightest hint of a European accent.
They walked into the Lincoln town car and met Kiersten's new agent for lunch.
Nellie's family had a small fortune, but they weren't rich or poor. They were sort of middle-upper-class. They managed to live in a three-bedroom apartment in New York City, which many people couldn't accomplish. Nellie had her own room, while her sisters Jill, who was 12, and Berry, who was 11, shared a room. Ben and Jeannie Baker had also managed to send all three of their girls to private school, while being able to afford some designer pieces. Of course, they had made their daughers get after-school jobs so that they would learn responsibilty and such, but not difficult jobs, simple ones.
"Thank you," Nellie smiled as she took the white envelope from Mrs. Blackwell. She walked Mrs. Blackwell's dog Diamond three times a week for twenty dollars per week, as well as sometimes taking him to the groomers and such.
"You're welcome, Nellie, dear," Mrs. Blackwell smiled. Mr. Blackwell had died a few years earlier, so Mrs. Blackwell usually found comfort in her beloved pug, Diamond.
"Bye, Diamond," Nellie waved as she walked down First Avenue. "Bye, Mrs. Blackwell."
After walking a while, she was outside Saks Fifth Avenue. She entered the department store and hopped onto an elevator to go to the Shoe Salon. She opened up the envelope. There was a hundred-dollar bill inside, as Mrs. Blackwell usually gave her a tip. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. She stepped out of the elevator and looked at all the summer shoes that were on sale. She particularly noticed a pair of expensive-looking thong sandals. She looked at the price. $210.00! And that wasn't even tax-added.
"Do you like those sandals?" asked a thin lady with raven-black hair. Nellie looked at the name on the tag, it read Michaela.
Nellie smiled and nodded. "They're very nice."
"Yes, they are," said Michaela, picking it up. "Diane von Furstenberg. The lining and the sole of the shoe is made of real leather."
"I like the beads and weaving," Nellie said, looking at the intracacy of the turquoise-blue strap.
"Yes, hand-made. This is the last pair," she said. "Would you like to try them on?"
"What size is it?" Nellie asked. She doubted that it would be her size.
"Six-and-a-half!" said Michaela.
Nellie practically grabbed them out of her hands, but she remembered her manners. "My size."
Michaela handede the shoes to Nellie, who had removed her navy-blue Tory Burch flats and peeled off her white silk knee-highs and put on the sandals. They were heaven for her feet.
She thought for a second. Nellie currently had $100 in the envelope and another hundred in case of an emergency. She scoured through her metallic-brown python-print Carlos Falchi tote, that she had saved for all summer to buy, until she found her wallet. She looked at how much she had inside. Another hundred-dollar bill.
"I'll use my employee discount, so it'll be $168," said Michaela, watching Nellie look at her money.
Nellie re-evaluated the pros and cons. "Can I put them on hold?" Maybe if I saved for another month or so...
"You can only put them on hold for three days," said Michaela.
"Okay," said Nellie. It was Monday. "I'll pick them up Wednesday the latest."
"Name?" asked Michaela, pulling out a slip of embossed paper.
"Nellie Baker," she said. She slipped her socks and shoes on and walked out of Saks Fifth Avenue confidently, but wavering a little bit. Can she do it?
