JOCELYN WAS rushing around like a chicken with her head cut off. To say she was stressed out would be an understatement. She hurried into the cafe around the corner from her studio and grabbed coffee as well as the most delicious donuts for her whole team. She put in her order and tried with all her might to be patient while it was made. She had a huge deadline due that day to provide sketches for a well-known female rock star for an upcoming awards show and she needed everything to go fabulously. She needed this job to bring her career to the next level.
She had been working like a well-trained poodle since she came back from Africa six months prior. She wanted to start making things happen in her life just as she had always imagined. Or maybe it had a lot to do with the man she had left in Africa. She had not spoken to Hendrick since she left and she knew it was the best thing. The man was trouble. It had been a short little fling that she was determined to keep in her past and that was that. She had to question her drive lately and how much that had to do with the fact that she was trying to forget feelings that she had begun to develop with Hendrick. What a fool. What, you fell in love after a few weeks? She wasn’t about to believe that and she certainly wasn’t going to tie herself pathetically to a man that had never had a serious relationship in his entire life. No, thank you.
So she dove into her work with great gusto in the hopes that she could forget the way in which he ignited her body every time he touched her. It had been good for her though; the work she had put into her company in the past six months had made it grow significantly. Now she had a team behind her that worked with her in creating her designs. She used to do all the sewing herself and getting everything ready for shows, and now she was able to delegate those tasks to someone else. It was the most empowering and liberating feeling to be in her position. But it also meant she stood in a coffee line stressed to the nines waiting for a beverage. Man, if she could just get this songstress to wear her designs she would be laughing. The girl could virtually wear garbage bags and people went nuts, so having her wear her own designs would definitely benefit her greatly.
Coffee trays in hand, she headed for the door. Her team deserved frequent coffee fixes, they had worked so hard, so it was the least she could do for them. Plus in general, she just enjoyed making people happy. When she stepped out into the sun and headed towards her studio, she stopped abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk. Screw it, she thought, I’m taking a moment. She stood there on the sidewalk and just pointed her face toward the sky and took a deep relaxing breath. She loved her life and all the great things she had. She was blessed in so many ways and she had no reason to be stressed. With so many people dying in the world, her designs were hardly anything to worry about. And what’s more, she was genuinely happy and delighted for her future.
She walked the rest of the way to her office with a new lightness of foot. When she walked into the open concept room, one of her girls ran over and grabbed one of the trays out of her hands.
“Oh thank you. I was so worried I was going to spill coffee and donuts on my way over here.”
The girl’s name was Samantha and she was Jocelyn’s right hand lady. Samantha laughed as she helped Jocelyn with passing out the coffee.
“You got a package today, it looks sort of luxurious.”
Jocelyn laughed, “Really? Maybe little miss rock star is trying to bribe my designs in early.”
“You don’t know who it’s from?”
“I couldn’t even imagine.”
Samantha followed Jocelyn over to her desk and they both stared down at the box. It certainly was an expensively wrapped package and staring at it puzzled Jocelyn further.
“I don’t know Jose, it sort of looks romantic.”
“Romantic?” Jocelyn laughed and with that she quickly opened the package to find a stunning red dress inside with a necklace that screamed big dollars.
“Oh my god.”
“There’s a letter, open it!” Samantha practically yelled.
“Okay, okay, I will.”
She picked up the letter and turned it over; there was no name or address on it. She opened it and there in simple words was a message to meet at Le Amore, the fanciest restaurant in town. She was to wear the elegant items in the box.
“Who on earth…?”