Kill Shot

There are days when the past leeches on to you. There are days when bad memories suck the blood out of you. There are days when the shackles of the past are stronger than the freedom of the present. Today was that day.

Happiness warred with pain. Terror mingled with joy. My stomach was in knots.

Today was March the 16th.

My Joshua's birthday.

The day when all the love and light in this world was wrapped in a crying bundle in my arms. God's greatest gift to me had come in the form of two tiny beautiful hands that would latch on to my breast, two tiny legs which would settle on my shoulders and have me carry them.

When the nurse had placed him on my lap, my first thought was wonder. Wonder and joy at how I could have created such beauty from the ugliness of his father. My second thought had been terror, abject terror. What would I do, if something happened to him?

How would I protect him?

Me, a poor divorced immigrant whose English was more Spanish than English.

How would an abused child who had seen only cruelty bring up a healthy and happy child?

The task had seemed daunting.

Absolutely impossible.

But, I had had family around me. Jules, Georgiana, Tori....the three girls who had been my greatest pillars of strength during the trials of early motherhood.

This day of his birthday always brought back a tide of painful memories. It was a reminder of the things I had endured....

Blood....

I shook my head. Now was not the time to think about all that.

I would finish my workday at the office, visit Josh and celebrate with him s bit and then drown myself in a liquor bottle with Georgiana. She would know that tonight was painful for me.

I was impatient for my work to be done.

__________

"Sana, you have a 9:30 with Emir.", Lola, my current assistant informed.

"I remember. The representative for Chior Modelling Agency is coming isn't he?", I asked.

"They are sending someone over to negotiate the contract. I talked with their manager yesterday.", she told me.

"Thank you, querida. Wish me luck.",I said rubbing my clammy palms on my dress.

" The Boss Lady is nervous?", she said raising an eyebrow. She was wearing Boho chic today complete with a red cloth head band tied into a knot, with parallel pants, a satin shirt and hundreds of trinkets.

She looked like my wet dream.

"This is my first job. If I can't please the boss, I will be fired. ", I said sarcastically.

" You are telling me, you've never negotiated deals before?", she asked.

"Of course I have. Hundreds. But, I went fully Armageddon there. Here I am just the lackey. Emir runs the show. God forbid if I forget and start running my mouth.", I said crossing myself at the dangerous thought.

" You are not one to mince your words.", she declared.

"I know! But, there can only be one CEO in the room. He or me and I am on vacation currently, if you haven't noticed. If both of us, become Pack Alpha, people won't know who to look to, for directions!", I exclaimed dramatically.

" You will do just fine, jefa .", she assured me. "Now run."

So I did.

____________

One nasty surprise awaited Emir and me when we entered the boardroom. Emir's other partner Clementine Lemaire waited in frosty silence.

I saw Emir's mouth tighten. He looked at me once. I got the message.

"Clementine, to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?", he asked politely in French.

"Bonjour Emir. Comme d'habitude, je suis ici pour les affaires de la maison. J'ai entendu dire que des négociations étaient en cours. En tant que partenaire, je pensais que je devais me tenir au courant des choses."

(Hello Emir. As usual, I'm here on business of the house. I heard negotiations are under way. As partner, I thought I should keep abreast of things.)

"If you don't mind switching to English for our newest member here.", he asked.

"Je suis parfaitement satisfait de parler français.  (I am perfectly happy with speaking French) ",

I told her in infuriatingly perfect French. Emir raised an eyebrow at me. My boss hadn't expected me to be fluent in different tongues.

"En fait, je suis assez content de rafraîchir mon français bien qu'il soit juste d'avertissement que je suis assez rouillé.", I told her.

(In fact, I am quite happy to brush up my French though fair warning I am quite rusty.)

My French wasn't a tad bit rusty but I was determined to play nice. Even if Clementine Lemaire had chosen to exclude me from the conversation by speaking in a foreign tongue.

Emir's mouth curled up at the corner probably trying to hold back laughter.

"Well! What a delight to have all three of us speaking my native tongue. I think we will get along splendidly.", Clementine said changing tactics and reforming her opinions of me. She was sizing me up.

Good. Clementine wore a sharp magenta suit and Louboutins to follow. Her makeup was so impeccably done that even I couldn't guess her age.

"So, what brings you back to LA? I know you prefer hell over this place.", Emir asked taking a sip of coffee from the mug.

" It's time for the New York Fashion Week. You made some rather....radical changes to the staff. I came to ensure smooth functioning of the LA headquarters and to personally welcome....Ms.Bianchi on board.", she said delicately.

"You and I both have autonomy to hire staff as we wish. You don't to take the trouble and come here for every little thing, Clementine. I am sure the Paris Headquarters provides you enough of a headache.", he said.

Verbal wars! So dramatic. I only needed popcorn to enjoy the show.

"No need to get excited, Emir. I simply wanted to see our Head of Marketing. I have heard so much about her recently.", she said.

The audacity!

She was referring to my departure from the company.

"Ah, yes! Jamal gave me such an exciting prospect to work here that I couldn't resist. I needed a change of pace."

I spinned the story completely different. Under the table, Emir's leg touched mine. A jolt of awareness shot through me.

Was it a warning to stop? Or an encouragement to continue?

I didn't care. I could fight my own battles.

"There was such news in the paper. Really you made headlines for weeks.", she said snidely.

"Of course! I am famous.", I said laughing lightly.

This time a foot hit my ankle. Definitely a stop sign!

But, before we could converse further, the Chior representative entered the room.

____________

"I think that went spectacularly!", I said bouncing around the room.

Emir looked over at me and rolled his eyes.

"It was a disaster, Miss Bianchi!", he said.

"We got a reasonable figure on the check and a contract with Chior models. We have Clementine out of the LA office and we have hired non-binary and transgender models to grace our runway aggressively diversifying our base.", I said happily.

"You wiped the floor off that representative. You pissed Clementine off with your comments and one half of our conservative benefactors by suggesting that we hire trans and binary models.", he said. He didn't sound angry. More like frustrated.

"Same difference.", I said cheerfully.

"You are something else, Miss Bianchi! I must admit.", he said slightly amused.

"Representation in the fashion industry is important, Mr. Aslan. We have power and we have responsibility. The world follows us. If the people in charge remain silent, we will never progress. We can't ignore the glaring problems.", I declared.

"You are right.", he agreed. " We can't."

He poured himself a glass of brandy.

"Drinking in the afternoon already! The day hasn't even started.", I said.

"After the verbal war we just endured, this is very necessary. I am out of practice with such viciousness.", he said and offered me a glass.

I took it but didn't take a sip.

"Please sit.", he gestured.

He was showing me respect. I was wary of it.

"I want you to tell me about your plans for the future of this house and I want to speak to you frankly. Tell me your thoughts.", he asked me.

He was asking for my opinion. Perhaps it was the headiness of the win in the boardroom and the win against Clementine.

"I will speak honestly to you. You represent a major part of the Muslim world, being the most famous designer in Turkey and Dubai. You represent history and legacy of an unlikely friendship that transcends religion and hatred. You have the weight of a 100 years of tradition and tolerance. I want this house to be the voice of change as well. Moving forward and keeping up with the times is important to keep us relevant. Holding onto the past morals blindly is useless. If I am to be a part of the house, I want to be a part of a bigger mission than just making clothes.", I said.

"You have a vision for the house.", he said, perhaps a note of admiration in his voice.

"Thank you for supporting me in that boardroom today.", I acknowledged.

"Thank you for supporting me against Clementine today. It's good to have artillery before going into a war zone. I think trans and non-binary models should be a part of the show

", he acknowledged.

The first stirrings of an understanding was born. Between two CEOs and two people with the same vision.

"How is the Met dress coming along", I asked.

"It is ready. You can have a fitting today evening.", he said.

" Today?", I asked surprised.

"Unless you have other plans?", he said unsure.

" No....no it' s just that it's my son's birthday today. But I can spare an hour. "

"Oh!", he said. " I didn't realize.....", he began.

"Ok, this is awkward. Let's be back to enemies.", I declared.

He grinned. His face lit up and his grey light shine with mirth. Emir was a handsome, handsome man.

"Of course, see you at six, Miss Bianchi. Don't be late like last time.", he said dismissing me.

I took my cue.

" Yes, boss."

I gave him a middle finger salute and stepped out of the room.

______________