Page 85 of Loving Rose

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This is my first ever job interview and at one of the biggest fashion houses in the country. I keep telling myself, I’ve nothing to lose. My chances at getting this job are already slim to none, but still I can’t seem to lose the kindling hope.

Vanessa goes through my designs a second time, before glancing my way. She might be a snob and a true fashionista with all the embellishments, but she is also undeniably the best in the industry.

“Why haven’t I seen this anywhere yet?” She points to the design of my friend Rose’s wedding gown.

“It was a wedding gift to a friend. I didn’t really promote it.” She doesn’t know I promote none of my works.

“Still, I can imagine this gown trending in social media. Fashion Chronicle would have gone wild for this,” she murmurs, her hand gliding over the page, looking carefully at the gown and then at me.

“It was a private affair in Cherrywood.”

Somehow, that gets her attention.

“You are from Cherrywood?” She cocks her eyebrow.

Crap! Did she recognize me already?

I nod carefully.

“Whose wedding was it?”

“You might not know them.” I give her a light shrug.

“Try me.” She squints her eyes, pinning me with her gaze and I see the true Vanessa Hilbert. One who is feared and revered equally.

“Rosemary and Zander Teager. They are friends of my family.”

Gre-a-t, Clem!

For someone trying to hide her family name, going to such lengths as writing H. in the surname column of the application form, I sure did give her the next question.

What does your family do, Clementine?

Luckily, Vanessa stops and my prayer is answered. But it gives me a heart attack in its wake, when she announces all of a sudden, “You are hired.”

“I… I am hired? Just… Just like that?”

“Your work is good. I like it.” Vanessa turns back to her computer and waves her hand toward the door. “Find my PA and he’ll take care of the formalities.”

After I return to Cherrywood, I read the offer letter again and again, so many times. I underline all the relevant words and even the minuscule letters after one, two, and three asterisks. My pulse hammers in my head and I close my eyes for a beat, before reading the letter once more.

Every word is still there!

I got a job, despite being the reckless Hawthorne.

* * *

“It’s a big decision, Clem,” Florence whispers as we wait for everyone to join us in the dining hall of Hawthorne Mansion.

It’s been two days since I declared that I’m moving out of our estate in Cherrywood. As every time in the past when my mother and I are at odds, my elder stepsiblings, Oscar and Florence, are here to act as mediators.

“You have never lived alone,” my sister says for the millionth time since she arrived here this morning.

“I lived with Rose and also went for internships, seminars—”

“But that was all temporary. You knew you would eventually return home. This…move is permanent. Working in a different city? You’re not ready for such a move, Clem.”

I shake my head, trying to get rid of the hurt from my face before Florence sees it. Her paltry confidence in me dwindles my excitement.


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