The Hunter(3)

I still assumed that I would have to take a junior position and work my way up through the ranks to become a fully fledged interior designer but, almost immediately the job was finished, demand for my services from friends and acquaintances of Angel’s mother went crazy. I had earned more in the last year than I had assumed I would in the first five years of my new career. And now, things were moving up a notch - I had my own premises. Two weeks ago, I had taken plunge and leased an office nearby, thanks to a local scheme that subsidizes rents for new small businesses. It was in a prestigious 20 storey building called The Orion Building that housed a variety of businesses. Within a week, I had been commissioned to redesign the reception lobby and conference room of Norman & Wilde, a management consultancy that occupied the whole 15 floor of the building. Although they denied any involvement in it, I suspected that Angel’s parents may have had a hand in the recommendation of my services. I was meeting with the Mr Norman and Mr Wilde tomorrow to unveil my plans. I was so nervous that they would hate them and cancel the commission.



I sucked down a deep breath and blew it out slowly, trying to calm my nerves. Angel quietly whispered in my ear “They would be so proud of you, you know.”



“I know,” I murmured and then rapidly blinked back the tears that threatened to escape. “I wish they were here.”



Angel just held me until the urge to cry had passed. She knew me so well, she knew that it always passed if she just held me, silently, stroking my hair.



After lunch, I completed my preparations for work the next morning but couldn’t shake the melancholy feeling that had settled around me like a cloak. I decided to go for a quick run. I knew better than to ask Angel if she wanted to come with me - she didn’t do exercise … well, except her regular workouts with Chad. I shouted goodbye to her then made my way down the elevator, longing to be outside in the fresh spring sunshine.



“Good day, Miss Prince,” said James, the ageing doorman in his mature English accent.



“It is a good day, James,” I smiled. “And all the better for seeing you!” I blew him a kiss and began my run.



I had intended to jog around Central Park but I found myself jogging towards my office instead. Although it was Sunday, everywhere was so alive and I absorbed all the new sights, smells and sounds as I jotted around my new neighborhood with a huge grin on my face.



I was surprised to see the revolving door in operation on a Sunday and was just about to walk away when the guard came through the door. Recognizing me, he greeted me warmly. I stopped had a quick chat with him and found that the building was open every day during daylight hours and at night by prior arrangement. I realized that I could bring all the designs and samples in to the office from the apartment later that day instead of leaving it until the morning. Figuring that it would help to calm my nerves if I didn’t have to carry everything in the morning, I agreed to drop by later in the day with Angel, on our way to Queens to see Chad’s band.



Pausing to ask James, the doorman, to change the timing of our taxi booking to allow me to call by my office, I returned to the apartment totally in love with Manhattan. Angel and I had quite a girly afternoon, taking ages to get ready to see the band. We decided to dress as full on rock chicks which was something we usually reserved for festivals. I wore a short black denim skirt, knee length black suede boots and a black satin cami with spaghetti straps. A black leather jacket completed my outfit. Angel curled and backcombed my hair and then piled it on my head with carefully arranged ‘escaped’ tendrils. Then she went to town on my makeup because I always felt extra pale when wearing all black. My heavily black kohled eyes, turquoise eye shadow and scarlet red lips completed the rock chick look.



Angel stepped back and admired her handiwork. “God, you are gorgeous,” she said. “I would kill for your hair … your eyes … your face … your body!”



I rolled my eyes in exasperation. “Oh yeah, you are sooooo ugly. What with your naturally platinum blonde hair, baby blue eyes, high cheekbones, button nose and petite figure … Need I go on?”



Blushing a deep shade of pink, Angel pulled on her black skinny jeans, stiletto boots and a pale blue cami that set off her eyes beautifully. Shrugging on the regulatory black leather jacket she turned to me. “All set?” she asked.



“You bet!” I said as I carefully collected up the box containing the design plans and samples that I had worked so hard on.



We giggled our way down the elevator and burst into fits of laughter when James’ eyebrows shot straight up as he held open the door for us. “Ladies,” he said, eyes twinkling. “I do believe that the expression is you look hot!”