Chapter Four

The morning sun didn’t care about Blair’s lack of sleep, it slipped through the narrow gaps in her plastic window blinds. Bright stripes across the floor piled with fabric swatches, three coffee mugs with one half and a sneaker tossed on the floor.

Blair’s mood board was pinned against her wall right above her messy study table.

With a sharp clack, Cassie yanked the cord, snapping the blinds open and flooding the room with bright sunlight. Outside, the whole of New York was already awake. With the busy streets filled with cars moving and on the pavements were cyclists and pedestrians walking hurriedly.

“Wakey Wakey queen!! Your empire isn’t going to build itself,” Cassie announced, dumping her handbag into the armchair filled with fresh laundry.

Buried under a set of mismatched pillows and a heavy duvet, Blair groaned and dragged her duvet over her head. “If you don’t close those blinds right now, Cassie, consider our friendship officially over. I am so exhausted from the warehouse visit last night.

“Oh please, spare me," Cassie shot back, walking over and yanking the duvet off her. She sat on the bed and looked around to take in the state of the room.

Honestly, she had seen worse.

There was a pair of jeans crumpled beside the dresser, fabric swatches on the floor and the study table. On her study table was an open sketch pad filled with designs.

The room smelled faintly of Blair’s berry-scented perfume, fresh laundry and coffee she had forgotten to finish last night.

Cassie shook her head.

“So this is what happens when you are left unsupervised? I am going to walk in one day and find you buried under a pile of fabrics with nothing but one hand sticking out.”

“Geez, I am exhausted. ” Blair muffled from beneath the duvet.

“D-R-A-M-A!! I see your business is already bringing out the best in you.”

Blair lifted her head just enough to glare at Cassie. With her dark brown hair tangled in a mess and the crease the pillow had left on her cheeks, “Do you know the time I went to bed?” she let out in a faint voice.

“Probably at some ridiculous hour.”

Blair’s head fell back onto the pillow. “Two, Cassie. Two!!”

Cassie gasped, “You left your stressful job to start a business, not to kill yourself in the process! You don’t have to put a ton of strain on yourself, Blair. Take things one step at a time.”

“Then, if I die, bury myself properly and make sure you tell everyone I died doing what I loved,” said Blair, still with my head on the pillow.

“Which is? Suffering?” Cassie adjusted herself beside Blair.

She continued, “Some of us have to drag ourselves out of bed and go to work before the manager arrives.”

Blair peeked out, “Is he still doing the thing where he stands at the entrance and watches everyone like he is expecting a robbery?”

“Even worse. Yesterday, he stood by the counter for ten minutes, watching me arrange the pastry display. Ten whole minutes, Blair! I was this close to asking him if he had anything else doing or watching me was his full-time job.”

Blair burst into laughter, the sound came out before she could hold herself.

Cassie pointed at her

“See? You can still laugh. I was beginning to think this whole thing had sucked the joy out of your body.”

“It hasn’t.”

“Really? Because last time I called, you were arguing with a man about clothing racks.”

“He kept changing the delivery date!’’

“And you threatened to report him to somebody.”

“Because he was lying!”

“Right, I’m sure the FBI has already opened a case.”

Blair grabbed the pillow and threw it at her.

Cassie caught it, laughing.

“WOW! Violence in my own home.

Cassie threw the pillow back at Blair, “I came here to check whether you were still alive.”

Blair shook her head, still smiling. She sat up, leaning against the headboard, and reaching out for a glass of water on her bedside table. She felt really heavy, and her eyes stung slightly from the lack of sleep. The past week had been exhausting in ways she never imagined. Every day had a fresh problem; untimely deliveries, or wrong packages.

But behind her exhaustion was something else.

Excitement.

She was tired from something she was building for herself.

“So how is your fashion empire coming along?”

Blair took a huge gulped the water before responding.

“We are making progress”

“That’s vague.”

“Yes, because everything is literally in progress. The name for branding is still pending approval, I am still waiting for the supply chain, the shelves and racks should be delivered by today and the store room is finally coming together. ”

“Then that’s promising. Look at you sound all professional and important,” Cassie hyped her.

“Cassie, please don’t start," Blair laughed.

“I’m serious!” Listen to you. Supply chain, branding, shelves. Who would have thought a few weeks ago you were drawing dresses on the back of a grocery receipt.”

Blair laughed.

“I still have a few things to sort out. Once everything is in place, I can start arranging the pieces I have properly and see what works.”

Cassie’s smile softened while she listened to her best friend talk about her dream. She had heard Blair talk about it for years and now that everything was taking shape in front of her, she couldn’t be more happy for her.

She reached over to squeeze Blair’s hand, then seemed to remember something.

“Oh, by the way,” in a casual tone. “Has Mr. Kent tried to contact you?”

“Well, he called me earlier this week.”

Blair turned to look at her properly.

“He did what?”

“Call me. On my phone. With his current voice and everything.”

“Cassie.”

“What? I'm just making sure we're clear on the details. Why was he calling you?”

“Looking for some files, apparently. He wanted to know if I knew where you’d saved some documents on the shared drive. Something about the logistics department.”

Blair stared at her for a moment.

“Wait. He called you to ask where I saved files?”

“Yes, Blair. Your former boss, the man who runs an entire corporation, needed your assistance locating documents. That's strange.” Blair laughed, but her expression soon became thoughtful.

“Did he say anything else?”

“Not really. He seemed frustrated, though.” Blair looked down at the fabric swatch beside her knee, rubbing its edge between her fingers.

For a long time, she had been the person Alex relied on to keep things organized. She knew where the documents were, which reports needed attention, and how to find information that other people seemed to lose every other day. It had become second nature to her, and she had rarely stopped to consider just how much she was doing until she finally walked away.

Part of her was surprised that he was having trouble. Another part couldn't help wondering why he hadn't simply asked someone else in the office.

“Well, he'll find them eventually,” she said, setting the swatch aside. “I'm sure there are other people there who can help him.”

Cassie raised an eyebrow. “That's a very diplomatic way of saying he's no longer your problem.”

“You're insane.”

“And yet, you love me.”

Blair smiled, then reached for her phone on the nightstand before thinking better of it and leaving it where it was.

And just like that, the conversation moved on, leaving Alex and his missing files where they belonged—in Blair's old life.

Cassie glanced at her phone, and her eyes widened.

“Oh, shot. I’m going to be late.”

Blair looked at her, “You say this every morning.”

Ten minutes later, the apartment door clicked shut behind Cassie, and suddenly quiet filled the space.

Her eyes drifted towards the small table near the window, where her notebook lay open beside a half-empty mug of coffee.

There was work waiting for her.

Blair pushed the covers aside and sat up, wincing slightly as she stretched her arms above her head. Her back ached from spending too much time hunched over her table the last night, and her shoulders felt stiff. She had gone to bed later than she intended, after promising herself that she would finish just one more sketch. She rubbed her face and dragged herself towards the bathroom.

The cold water helped wake her up. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and tied her hair back, studying her reflection for a moment before turning away. She looked tired, but there was no point standing there analyzing it. She had too much to do.

Back in the bedroom, she changed into a comfortable pair of shorts and a loose top before making her way to the small workspace she had carved out of one corner of her room.

It was a space beside the window, furnished with a second-hand table, a chair that squeaked whenever she moved, and a shelf that leaned slightly to one side. Sketches and reference pictures covered her mood board. A measuring tape hung from the corner of the table, tangled around a pair of scissors, while notebooks and fabric samples occupied whatever space remained.

It was not the kind of workspace she had imagined when she first decided to start her own fashion business.

But she had to work with what was available.

Blair pulled out the chair and sat down.

The first thing she did was clear a space on the table. She stacked two notebooks on top of each other, and gathered the fabric samples into one pile. She had tried organizing them the previous evening, but somewhere between comparing colors and sketching new designs, she had made an even bigger mess.

She picked up a piece of linen and held it against the light.

The fabric was a warm, earthy shade, somewhere between beige and cream. It was slightly rough beneath her fingertips, but she liked the way it held its shape.

She reached for her measuring tape, only to find it held beneath a notebook. After tugging at it twice, she managed to free it, sending a pencil rolling off the table and onto the floor.

Blair stared after it.

“Fantastic.”

She bent down to retrieve it, knocked her knee against the table, and straightened with a quiet groan.

For a moment, she considered going back to bed.

Instead, she picked up the pencil, sat down again, and returned to her sketch. Still, she was learning, and she had to remind herself of that sometimes.

A few weeks ago, her days had been organized around someone else's schedule. She had known exactly when she needed to arrive at the office, which documents had to be ready before meetings, and how quickly she was expected to respond whenever Alexander Kent needed something.

She could still picture his office with uncomfortable clarity. The polished desk, the spotless glass walls, the faint scent of expensive cologne mixed with the sterile smell of the air conditioning. Everything had its place, and everyone was expected to know theirs.

Especially her.

She had been good at her job. She knew that.

But being good at something did not mean she had to spend the rest of her life doing it.

She had no assistant to handle the boring tasks, no department to chase suppliers, and no one waiting to fix a problem when something went wrong.

If she made a mistake, she would have to find a way to correct it herself.

Yet, sitting there with a pencil in her hand, she felt something she had rarely felt in Alexander's office.

Ownership.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Blair glanced towards it but did not move immediately. She had placed it there earlier because she knew she would keep checking it if it stayed beside her while she worked. There were already enough things competing for her attention.

When it buzzed again, she sighed, put down her pencil, and crossed the room.

She picked it up, expecting another message from a supplier or a reminder about something she had forgotten to pay for. For a brief second, she even wondered whether it might be someone from her old office.

She had not heard from Alex, and she had no particular desire to change that.

The notification on her screen was an email from the delivery company.

Blair opened it.

She read the message once, then went back to the beginning and read it again.

Her clothing racks and shelves had been dispatched and were scheduled to arrive that day.

For a moment, she simply stood there, holding the phone in both hands.

Then she smiled.

She typed a quick reply to confirm that she would be available to receive it, then put the phone down.

Blair returned to her table and sat down. She picked up her pencil, looked at the design in front of her, and got back to work.