How About a Cup of Coffee?
Chapter 8B
*
"I'm too sexy for my shirt, to sexy for my shirt, too sexy for me…"
The music blared out of the speakers in the main auditorium-like room that the company hosted its models in. There was a blonde on the stage, mock-walking back and forth and an on-looker visibly winced when she nearly tripped.
Hurriedly, the on-looker walked out of her hiding place, to the elevators.
To the 51st floor.
***
"She's insane! I told her to be back 20 minutes ago—where is she?"
Andrew placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Calm down, Darien. I'm sure she's just catching up with the girls—or maybe she got lost."
There was a knock at the door and Andrew, being closer, walked to open it.
In walked one Madison, a model with medium-length blonde hair and blue eyes. But where Serena's eyes were warm and inviting—depending on who she was talking to—Madison's were cold, calculating, and scheming.
"I think I can help with your missing model."
The men exchanged looks and Darien inwardly winced. This was not getting off to a good start.
***
Lita and Ami were cheering for her. Rei was snapping pictures. And to tell the truth, Serena had never felt more alive.
"'Cause I'm a model, you know what I mean
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah, on the catwalk, yeah, on the catwalk, yeah
I shake my little touche on the cat—"
Abruptly, the music was flicked off, and Serena stopped shaking her "touche" on stage. They all turned to the back to see who had brightened the dimmed lights and shut down the speakers.
Darien proved to be the culprit, with Andrew walking not to far behind him. The closer they got, the girls could see that the darker-haired man was clapping, mocking Serena and she winced as she noticed the black look on his face.
Angry with himself at letting his guard down and not wanting to believe he had been thrown a curve, he spoke harshly. "Well done, Meatball Head. You just proved how much work needs to be done."
Mouths agape, the women stared at him as Andrew swatted him on the back. "Be. Nice."
Darien sighed loudly. "I'm sorry, Ms. Cohen. That came out rather harsh." Truth was, seeing Serena the way he had last night, and now—shaking her butt off on the stage—was frustrating him more than he imagined. "We should get you schooled in this stuff anyway—so maybe you've opened up a gift box, instead of a can of worms."
Her friends said goodbye quietly. She stood patiently, waiting for his next words; very unlike her fiery nature, but she had no other choice—she'd been wrong this time.
Andrew called over his shoulder, "I'm sticking the tickets on my desk," and didn't wait for an answer as Darien gave him a backhanded wave.
Mumbling something about jealous, skanky models, he made his way over to her, threading in between seats, until he finally reached the steps that led to the main stage.
He climbed them, "Come on, Serena," and extended his hand to help her up.
Cautiously, she placed her hand in his and she stood quietly while he assessed her body—in a way they both had to remind themselves was purely business.
"Well. Your figure is fine—perfect for the line we're launching this month in Milan. It's a shame that Mina has to be our star model—I really think you have potential."
Through eyes half closed, she asked, "Really?"
He was amazed that she was so in doubt of her body. "Really." Said Darien firmly. "But we need to start on the basics… and the best time to do that would be now."
***
Five hours, 27 minutes later…
"AUGH! I can't do anymore, Darien! My legs feel like they're going to come apart from the rest of my body!"
He chuckled at her dramatic statement. "All right, Serena. We can break for the day now."
Suddenly finding use of her legs again, she ran over to him and hugged him. "Thank you, thank you, thank YOU!"
Then, as soon as the contact had been, she left, skipping out the doors. He noted, wistfully, that her child-like innocence still remained. She might have the body of a goddess, and the attitude of a full-grown woman… but there were just some things you couldn't grow out of.
***
A horn honked beside her and she jumped out of her skin. Sitting at the wheel of a red Volkswagen bug, was Mina, happily bopping to the music. The window went down and she yelled over the music—
"Get in—model with a cause!"
Serena laughed and she crossed to the other side of the car. Upon opening the door, "Thanks Mina. I was wondering how I was going to get home—we all carpooled in Rei's BMW this morning."
She closed the door against the sounds of heavy traffic and sank back into her seat while Mina pulled away from the curb.
"So how did your day go?"
The exhausted blonde shot her cousin a look.
"That bad, huh?"
"You don't wanna know the half of it… Darien was pretty funny though—strutting on the catwalk like he was some snobby model. I guess when you're the CEO of a modeling company, you get lots of practice as to how you should walk."
Mina didn't take her eyes off the road as she answered casually, "He used to be a model."
Serena turned to face her cousin, eyes wide. "No way!" Then she giggled. "Of course, that explains everything we went through today!"
The more-experienced model kept one ear cocked to the side, half-listening to what her bubbly cousin had to say. She was, in all actuality, waiting for something else, and didn't know how much further she wanted to drive out of the city… when she would have to go back anyway.
They rounded the corner of Madison when, "Oh, damn." erupted from her mouth.
Serena stopped her talking to face Mina. "What?"
Mina sighed, frustrated. "I forgot to run in and get my tickets for next week—to Milan." She threw her hands up in the air. "I don't even know where they are!"
Cautiously, Serena guided her hands back onto the steering wheel. "Meens. Calm down. I know where they are."
A huge, beaming smile lit up Mina's face, and fell just as suddenly. "Can you go in and get them—please?" Serena well recognized the wheedling tone to her voice, "if I go in and get them, Andrew's gonna find me and we made a bet that I would remember to get my tickets. If I go in and search for them—he'll find me and I'll lose the bet. Besides! He always wins—I wanna win for once."
The worn-out model moaned. "I don't wanna go back in there—my feet feel like they're gonna fall off and my back has gone completely numb."
"Please, Serena?" She asked, quietly.
Hating herself and feeling every bone and muscle in her body rebelling, she reluctantly consented. "Oh, okay."
The words weren't even out of her mouth when the car made a rapid U-turn and they were speeding back to the company.
***
As soon as Serena was out of the car, Mina speedialed Andrew on her cell. "She's on her way."
"Gotcha."
***
He shoved up from his seat, palms on the desk for leverage, and grabbed the ticket binder in one, clean, swoop. Not bothering to close the door, he sprinted down the long hallway that separated his office and Darien's—busting in the doors.
Then he breathed.
"Where's the fire, Drew?"
Andrew turned around; hands in pockets, his innocent look fixed firmly in place while bracing the binder against his butt. "I—I thought I saw a… a… black cat!" He finished triumphantly.
As Darien gave him the brunt of his fully skeptical glare, Andrew surreptitiously slid the binder of tickets on the credenza behind him; making it seem—from Darien's point of view—like Andrew was backwards…um…humping the poor, defenseless piece of furniture, and standing on his tiptoes while doing it.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
Breathing a sigh of relief that it had settled on the desk safely, he said, "Yeah. That cat really shook me up." He looked around a while more, not wanting to meet Darien's eyes. "Well. I'm gonna book it—Mina and I have a date."
Darien gave him an obliging nod, and returned to his paperwork. The new designs for this line they were modeling… some of them wouldn't look good on the girls.
Andrew turned hastily to exit, but slammed into the door, causing Darien to look back up from his paperwork.
Successfully making it out the door, he waited until he was out of view before racing back to his office, noting tat a car in the express elevator was rapidly on the rise.
Sitting down in the desk chair thankfully, he pressed the speedial to Mina and waited as she picked up.
"It's done."
***
The ride up to the 51st floor was silent. She stepped out of the elevator quietly and walked to Andrew's office.
"Owww." She said, slipping off her pumps, and then digging her toes into the plush carpet. "Oh that feels so much better."
Blissfully making her way to Andrew's office, she knocked loudly and entered. Not looking up, he motioned a hand to her, telling to come in, while finishing up with Mina.
"Yeah, sweetie. I love you too. Bye."
He placed the phone back in the cradle and looked up at her. "Serena! What can I do for you—you didn't have enough model practice to day with Darien?" He laughed at her horrified look.
"No!" She hastened to explain, lest he make her go through some more rigorous training. "I just came to pick up Mina's ticket… though I don't think I was supposed to tell you that," she smacked her forehead.
He laughed again. "It's okay, Serena. As long you're in the building, not her, the bet still stands." Then he sobered up. "I placed the tickets in Darien's office for a read-over. I'd go get them myself, but I will be late for our date if I do that—I have some papers to get myself before I can go home."
She gave him a tired smile. "It's okay, Andrew, I'll get them." Then she grimaced. "Darien's office, did you say?"
His only answer was a brief nod of his downward head; already going over those papers.
She groaned loudly and walked out of his office… just in time to miss the victorious grin on Andrew's face.
***
She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Chill out, Serena. You have no problems with your boss. I mean, other than the fact that he saw you in your pajamas and your ripped skirt," she smiled at the last memory and the way his jaw had dropped open, "but you spent a normal—well, semi-normal—day with him. You didn't freak out and you had a normal conversation; when he wasn't screaming at her to be still or 'try it this way,' or—well. Water under the bridge now.
"So if you know all this, girl—then why are the butterflies in your stomach pounding to fly out…"
Taking the initiative, she pushed open the ajar doors and peered in. Darien was sitting at his desk, small reading glasses on and frowning quiet fiercely. She wondered if he knew what he looked like when he was frustrated with something and had to bite back a smile.
She stepped quietly in the office and knocked on the credenza—which, she noticed belatedly—was where the ticket binder was.
His head shot up from the paperwork, blue eyes searching out her own. "Yes, Serena?"
"I um, came to pick up Mina's airline ticket… Andrew said it would be in here."
A grin dawned on Darien's face, realizing what Andrew had been doing before. "I knew Drew wasn't afraid of cats." He muttered to himself.
Serena looked at him. "What?"
He looked back up, "Oh, nothing." He waved her at the binder. "Go, go. Take out Mina's ticket."
She did so and while her back was turned he watched her thoughtfully, looking at the piece of paper on his desk. "Serena?"
She turned. "Yes?"
Darien picked up the ticket. "Here. This is for you—we had it Fed-Ex-ed this afternoon."
She walked over to the desk and took the ticket from him. Serena Cohen. First class, round trip from Newark, New Jersey to Milan, Italy. She looked up at him. "Thank you, Darien." Her eyes shone. "Thank you for believing in me."
He smiled warmly—it wasn't often that she smiled in his direction—especially when they were younger, and in Tokyo. "Think of it as goal to aspire to, Ms. Cohen." And with a final, small smile, he returned to his paperwork. At last. Progress.
She was halfway to the door when he stopped her again. "And Serena?"
Serena turned, flinging some blonde hair over her shoulder. "Yeah, Darien?"
Darien looked at her, the picture she made; the figure she had. "Try and be on time tomorrow—I'd like to introduce you to the board."
***
Author's Notes:
I would just like to give credit where credit is due: Fleur helped me with the idea for the last chapter—where Darien had to come to the house because of Rei's documents. And Marni, one of my editors, helped with the idea for this chapter—the part where Mina makes Serena return to get the documents for her. Everything else is mine.
Okay guys, now for the bad news. I have mid-terms coming up. Yeah, big, bad, nasty midterms and I am so not looking forward to them. Between studying and managing the rest of my life this week—and half of next—I won't be writing or posting any more chapters to this until midterms are over.
So. You all have to do your reader-ly duty and review—because if, by some totally lucky chance—I do get to log on—I want TONS of reviews sitting in my inbox. Nothing like a little motivation to make you want to break that nasty mid-term still.
And if you want to be on my mailing list, but aren't yet—send me an email—I can't keep track of everybody who I've put in and who I haven't.