End Of The Shift

I've been waiting a while for this. It's been a long time coming. Honestly I can't believe it hasn't happened sooner. I mean this girl has given me bad vibes from the moment we hired her. I mean with her a thousand piercings and the word “blessed” spelled in bold cursive on her chest that she hid during the interview process. Her dreads cut into some sort of an asymmetrical bob with frosted tips “yuck”. Not to mention her incessant use of the phrase “It's giving”. I mean come on. It’s bad enough that other races sees us negros as illiterate and dirty. But to perpetuate it by being a literal walking stereotype is beyond me. I have an image that I'm trying to exude.

It took a lot of studying business, fashion, and risk to get to this point in my career. Convincing my big brother to start this business with me was rather easy though. He has more talent in his pinky toe than most designers his age I have encountered in my travels. Paris, Dubai, Hong Kong, no one can top his sense of fashion, his style, his imagination. He is a true artist, and I know that one day we will become a household name. Everyone of importance will be wearing our clothes. Seeing our designs of carefully tailored cashmere and Italian wool suits and gowns made of Mikado silk with Chantilly intricacies on the red carpet. It just makes me swoon and want to float towards the sky. Dione and I have dreamed of this since we were 12 years old. Coming home from school with our mother preparing whatever monstrosity in the kitchen while playing project runway in the background. We used to go into our parent's closet and cut up and revamp their clothes for ourselves. They hated when we did that but there was no denying we were good. This is our calling and no one will get in the way of that. Especially some sticky fingered, trashy, flashy, mooching employee.

The door opens and the putrid smell of whatever bed bath and bodyworks perfume mixed with the unmistakable funk of weed, as if that was gonna cover the odor hits me before she even sits down.

“Hello Angel, sit. We have some things to discuss,” Dione said in a cold tone

Angel closes the door behind herself and sits in the chair in front of us, feet parted and knees together. I wonder why she sits like that. It's like she believes sitting knock-kneed is cute, but really she looks as if she is trying not to piss on herself.

“Do you know why we called you in here today,” I said, cocking my head to the side to see if perhaps there is any realization or anticipation that may leak from underneath those feathery sun visors she calls lashes.

“No, but it's giving a lot of tension. If it's about this morning, I called you letting you know I was going to be a few minutes late. I always leave early for work but the train stopped because some guy didn't have a ticket and they called the police to escort him off. It wasn't-”

“That is not what this is about,” he said with a slight hint of venom in his voice.

“This is about last night. My sister said that she was passing by the store on the way to meet a potential collaboration partner for the new line and saw you in here after hours trying on a client's clothes!”

Her eyes widen and she begins bouncing her knee. She must be anxious, I don't believe she expected to be caught. I don't recall seeing anything missing, thank God. But we don't allow our employees to play dress up with our one of a kind pieces. I'm not sure how long she has been doing this. Probably the whole time she's been here, but it will be her last.

“Do you know that you broke the zipper on Ms. Taylor's evening gown? What if I had given it to her in that condition? She is our biggest client. How could you be so irresponsible? Do you think of anyone but yourself? When we hired you we thought we were getting someone worthwhile. Someone who took their craft seriously,” He said as he stood up to pacing in anger. Beads of sweat began to appear on his forehead.

I've never seen him like this, so worked up. He is not really the most assertive or aggressive person. He is usually so carefree and forgiving. I'm usually the bad guy. Our mom would tell me that we were like fire and ice. He was so warm and inviting. And I was cold and brutal. I guess his fire is burning hotter today.

“When we gave you a key to the store we thought we were giving it to someone trustworthy. Someone who wanted a future in this industry. I am unbelievably disappointed cause I really thought you came here to work. But you just came to do what? Snap a few photos for the “Gram” and get a few measly likes and comments. Did you ever stop to think that one of our competitors could see your post and steal our designs? Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

She began to speak. Tears welling in her eyes, panicking. “Mr. Dione, Ms. Monica please I- “

“You know what, I can't do this. You're fired.”

Angel looks shocked. Mouth left a gaped. Her knees aren't together anymore and her head hangs low as her eyes dart nervously. Trying to find an excuse or anything she can say to save face It seems. It's like the air has been sucked out of her.

“Monica, please just give me one more chance. I never meant-”

“Please leave the store keys on my desk. You may show yourself out, "I say

It was a shame because as much as I didn't care for her, she was talented. Too bad.

Later that evening I arrived at my favorite restaurant “The Valley". They have the most amazing ceviche and the best Manhattan I’ve ever had. I'm waiting on my date to arrive, Greg. We met on Hinge. Despite how I may come off I do want connection. I want that family dynamic me and my brother had growing before we lost our father. And it's not like I'm getting any younger either.

I order my second Manhattan when I receive a text from Greg saying he is finding a place to park and that he can't wait to bask in my regal beauty. As the bartender hands me my drink I hear a familiar laugh from a table behind me. I look and I see Angel and my brother cuddle up in a booth together. He is kissing up her arm telling her how delicious she is.

The sight contorts my face into a picture of disgust.

“Hey sorry I'm late, I had a few things to wrap up at the office. I hope I didn't keep you waiting long,” Greg says and he walks up and pecks me on the check.

“Wow you look-”

“Stunning, yes I know. Could you watch my drink for a moment? I need to powder my nose, "I say with a smile as I loop around the corner and creep behind a wall to where my brother and Angel are sitting.

“My love, I just have to say one more time that I’m so sorry I was so harsh to you today. I didn't want to fire you but Monica insisted,” he says as he gives her hand another kiss

“No baby, it's okay. I-I was in the wrong. I just love that dress you made for Ms. Taylor so much. I just had to try it on. It made me feel like the Queen of fucking England.”

“Oh baby the Queen of England aint got the hips you got to pop that zipper on that dress,” he says as he gives her a chaste kiss.

She playfully hits his shoulder and erupts into that hyena like laugh again.

“She sure doesn’t,” she says as she leans in for a longer kiss.

“But my love, what are you gonna do about work? You know you can always live with me and be a kept woman until you get your name out there.” Dione says, as he spoon feeds her some truffle polenta.

“Well I was going to tell you when I got to work this morning. But that styling internship on the east side…I got a call for another interview and if it goes well then I've got the job. Hopefully they like me and my work enough.”

“Angel, baby you are going to get it. Your style is so chic and bold. They will love you, who wouldn't?"

“Monica,” she says in an annoyed tone.

“Why doesn't she like me?”

“It's not that she doesn't like you, she just doesn't know you and it takes a while for her to warm up to people.” I promise I’m gonna tell her about us. It's just that ever since our mom passed last year she has really closed up and doesn't let people in at all now really. I will tell her soon.”

Well Angel was right, I don't like her. But I love my brother and I've never seen him so giddy and childlike around any girl he has dated before. As much as I think he can do better, I don't want him to feel like he needs to hide things from me.

I step out from behind the shiny black wall and walk up to their table. Both of their smiles drop and so do their hands that were once clasped together.

“No, please don’t stop on my account. I heard everything and I'm not mad. Well I am mad that you felt you needed to keep this from me. But, I’m not that bad.” They both looked at each other and still haven't said a word.

“Okay, maybe I could use some work. But I just came over here to congratulate you on your interview, Angel. One thing you do have is creativity and I believe with work you can go far,” I say with a forced simile.

“ Now I need to go back to my date to see if we have what you too clearly do. See you later brother.”

I turn to head back to the bar but before I can I’m engulfed with the warm embrace from Dionne

“I love you, sis.”

“I know,” I say with a smirk.

“Now no need to get mushy, I love you too” I say as I hug him back