Chapter 8: Bad Luck

VIVIAN'S POV

“Why didn't I listen?”

“Why did I go ahead with something I have been warned several times against?”.

The voices in my head rang aloud as I stood on BeeCam Street. My hands were shaking and I felt like sinking into the ground.

Right on the spot, I remembered the words of Natalie weeks ago.

“I don't think it is okay we go ahead with this, Vivian,” her voice ran through my ears from left to right.

“And why should I do that? We are talking about my first official launch and you are telling me not to do it??”

“Yes….the odds are against us right now, Vivian. We need to slow down production and move gradually,” she opined.

“You don't tell me what to do,” I said and walked away with a hiss.

We should wait till November before the launch,” I remember the voice of Natalie once again.

“November? Why should I wait till that long before showing the world my brand? That isn't even your call to make,” I said.

“I am not dictating for you, Vivian. I am.only advising you on what would work. We need to get everything right before the launch….”

“......I'm sure you don't want failures in your first batch,” she said further.

“Oh please…..that is enough…I don't want to hear anything anymore….”

“......Last I remember, I was paying for fabric not for advice,” that was my harsh response to her.

Now it dawned on me.

I stood by the door and smiled at everyone who walked past and didn't come in.

Everything suddenly turned white and cold. Then, without warning, a thought came to mind, catching me completely off guard.

Adrian had promised six buyers and only two had shown up.

“Hello Vivian,” the voice of one of the buyers rented my ears.

“Um..welcome, “ I uttered with a hand gesture.

I hid my hands behind my back almost immediately as they began to tremble out of fear of being let down once again.

“What lining is this?” She asked as she picked one of my green dresses on display. My favourite, actually.

“Italian wool blend,” I answered in a haste.

A smirk then a frown. “It feels…kinda cheap for seven hundred!”

“Erm…it is not…it is—”

She dropped it even before I could finish my sentence.

The same goes for the second, third up to the number I couldn't count.

Before I knew what was happening, the whole place was empty. No orders. Nothing.

I sat on the couch and gave one last stare to the multiple coats no one actually wanted.

My gaze was fixated on the door hoping another surprise buyer would walk in.

Suddenly, a figure clouded the entrance. My face brightened up the minute I saw Natalie.

“Oh, you are finally here…….”

“Look….Just look, Natalie,” I complained, spreading my arms wide.

“I told you doing it now wasn't the step we needed,” she uttered slowly.

“I wanted it to work,” I whispered.

“Without Alexander or without me??” She butted in.

I snapped. “What do you mean by that?”

“It means you asked for my help and then you go ahead and do everything your own way. You want independence but you don't listen to anyone."

"It's my company. I paid for it," I fired back.

"And that's the problem!!" She was shouting now. "You think because you paid, you are right. You think money gives you the right to ignore me."

“What are you even saying?” I lashed out, throwing a hand at her.

“Oh yes you do know what I am saying. Who chose the lining? You. Who set the price? You. Who decided this launch would be today? You.

“It was always you! Vivian…You! I wonder what my role is, in this whole thingy!” She blurted out.

My eyes sank deep into its corner.

“So what should I have done? Wait forever???”

“All you needed was just to listen. Just for once, listen…” she objected.

Before I could say another word, she turned her back at me.

“Are you leaving me?” I said in a low tone.

“I am leaving this gallery. There is a difference," she responded and went out the door without looking back.

*******

I thought about my old life, the life I had before being thrown into a novel. Back then, I worked three different jobs just to make ends meet. I could never have afforded a coat like this, no matter how hard I worked.

But now I have a full collection of them and no one was ready to buy.

My feet became numb and I sat quietly on the leather staring at the patterns on a particular dress.

The door buzzed open again and without looking at who it was, I said, “The Gallery is closed. Please come back another time.”

“I'm not a buyer…” Alexander's voice cut in.

He was still in his suit, holding two coffees in a cardboard tray. His hair was wet like he had jumped into the rain right from the office to see me.

Without further hesitation, I wiped the tear escaping from my left eye, “What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Natalie called me,” he answered in a short breath.

“She shouldn't have..”

“She sounded worried and angry somewhat so tell me what happened,” he said, setting the coffee on the bench before him.

“Nothing happened. Nothing at all,” I replied in a rush.

“Are you sure about that?” His eyes darted around the whole gallery and noticed how full it was, still.

He went ahead to touch one of the coats and rubbed his hands on it. “Something seems off with this one or is it just me?,” he said.

“I know…let it be”

“But why is this place still full?”

“Nothing and it's none of your business….”

He shook his head… “So you had no buyers?”

I winked, “Yes and don't tell what I did wrong. I know already..”

“I have some contacts. I could call and bring buyers. I can even talk to----”

“Don't!!” I shouted, standing up fast. “Don't help me like I am your charity wife!! Every time I fail, you offer money. Or buyers. Or your team!!”

“I am trying to help you, Vivian.”

"Then help by not treating me like a project!!"

He didn't say another word for like a minute.

“Why did you start this company?” he suddenly asked, breaking the awkward silence.

I remembered this part in the novel but I wasn't ready to be that woman now. I was ready to stand on my own.

“To have my own money. So I won't need yours when we divorce,” I answered without holding back.

“Only that?”

I cleared my throat, “Uhmm, no….also, to make something that is mine. Not borrowed and not because I married you. Something I made, in my own name!"

“Hmmm…fair enough,” he said, not as a compliment because I didn't see it as such.

My phone buzzed in the corner and Alexander reached for it before I could.

It was a text message. From.Adrian, I presume.

“Wow….Just wow….he now texts you to meet him in private?” Alexander said with a clenched fist.