Desired
1403 Words
LORRAINE'S POV
"Well, I . . . get inspirations from people's personalities and old cultures," I answer actor Ryder Sterling's awkward question the best way I can.
If course there are several other things I get inspirations from. But I don't see the necessity to mention them all.
Jessica comes closer and settles on the seat next to mine just so she can hear everything.
"How do you create a design out of a person's personality?" the actor asks.
"Same as they do in the movies. You take note of a character and imagine an outfit that somehow reflects it's essence. I translate a person's unique traits and energy into outfits that speaks to who they are as an individual," I answer.
Jessica eyes widen as though she didn't know about this already.
"Sounds clever," Ryder Sterling compliments in the same thick, flattering tone. "What kind of outfit would you have imagined for my character in War gods movie if you were the film designer?" he asks.
I am tempted to huff in annoyance. Why make me think hard to create a design that I won't use? It would be a huge risk to tell him that though. So I better think.
Ryder Sterling played a badass prince who kills his psychotic father to end the chaos of war in the movie, war gods. His character seemed to have another purpose though. That of being physically attractive to the audiences. It's probably the only reason that movie made decent profits.
"I would make golden velvet robes and black pants for indoors. A long dark coat and knee length boots for battlefield," I answer.
"Would the robes have a shirt underneath?" the actor asks and I see Jessica frown.
"You never wore a shirt indoors in the movie. You should ask your directors why that is," I answer and he chuckles.
"I like your design better than what I wore in the movie," he says. "I look forward to working with you, Miss Rosefield."
Guess the right response should be . . .
"I . . . yes, me too," I say and quickly hang up the phone.
I start eating the dinner we made like nothing happened and Jessica watches me like she has a million questions.
"He called you for no reason at all," she says.
I shrug my shoulders.
"I think I will go home now," she suddenly says.
"You haven't even tasted your food," I point.
She takes a small bite of the salad. "I think I am not that hungry. See you tomorrow at the studio." she rises from her seat and strides to the door.
"I will escort you," I offer.
"No need. I am taking a cab," she answers before leaving.
I don't understand her reaction. Did I say something to piss her off? Is it something I said to her celebrity crush?
Guess I will find out tomorrow.
My phone rings again and it turns out to be the real estate agent in charge of a 205 million dollar grand mansion located in Future Front that I had a dream of buying.
I am no where close to affording it, but I have hope that my designs will one day make such an amount.
"Hey girl, I wanted to let you know that an extremely rich man just developed a serious interest in the villa. It's cost won't be an issue for him," the agent informs after I have picked the call.
"Who is the rich man?" I ask.
"Billionaire Lucas Ravenwood. He said that his girl desires the mansion and he will grant her whatever she wants," the agent answers.
My fists and jaws clench in anger. The man kicked me out of his mansion so he could give it to his new, valuable wife. Now he is about to buy the stunning mansion that I have been saving for because she desires it too.
He keeps ruining my life even when we are miles apart. Robbing a bank is only way I can buy that house before he does. The villa is however not worth dying for. He can buy it for his beautiful wife who is now quite infamous for being the Hollywood slut.
* * * * * *
LUCAS RAVENWOOD'S POV
I carry my ex-wife's jacket back into my room like a treasure that will never be lost. Soon the design will be the newest trend in fashion world, desired by millions of men. But the original jacket means everything to me.
I walk into the room to find my awful wife standing by the bed. She wears sexy lingerie as always, but she doesn't turn to delightfully embrace me like a child like she does every night. I hate the smell of her perfumes and every foolish word that comes out of her mouth.
I walk farther inside and finally notice the over a dozen printed pictures of Miss Rosefield laid on the bed. My wife stares at them with murderous look on her face.
"It's her, isn't it?" she questions in a furious tone. "Stella Style's new designer is your ugly ex-wife!" she screams.
I am thrilled to watch her seethe with rage and frustrations. Lorraine must have felt a dozen times worse when she helped me kick her out.
Lorraine looks extremely beautiful in the pictures even though they seem to have been taken randomly.
"Why didn't you tell me?" my wife yells.
"That wrench should be dead or begging in the streets not designing clothes!"
"I told you to leave her alone, Aubrey," I remind. "She is a talented designer that will help my brand stay at the top. Not to mention that her life is absolutely none of your business."
My wife's fists clench in range. Which makes her look ridiculous as she is almost naked and her makeup is a mess.
"You want her back because she is now a designer? Has she got a tattoo of your names on her skin? Did she offer her body to you every night like I have inevitably done?" she demands hysterically.
"Right, you have been the most submissive wife even though that's not what I was looking for," I commend. "But you disobeyed my order to stay away from my ex-wife. I wonder if you prefer to break our marriage rather than stay away from Miss Rosefield," I add and she wife gapes in shock.
I was wise enough to make her sign a prenup before our official marriage. This means that she would not benefit from the fall of our marriage. This is the reason she would do anything to stay married to me. It's the only way she gets to live without working.
"Please don't divorce me! You know that there isn't a part of me that I wouldn't surrender to you," she begs, falling down to her knees.
I ignore her and make way into my walk-in closet where I place Lorraine's jacket on the same mannequin she left it on before I sent her out. I am sure she would have taken it with her if I had not insisted that she hurry and leave.
I walk back to the bedroom after changing into my pajamas. I ignore the presence of my wife who is now typing something on her phone and slip under the warm covers of the bed.
I have barely fallen asleep when I hear her exclaim out loud.
"No! Not her again!" she screams, jumping from the bed and kicking the bedside table. "Ryder Sterling wouldn't want her!"
I angrily frown as I have had enough of her foolish drama for tonight.
"f*****g leave my room!" I snap.
She is startled by the harshness in my tone but she still looks more troubled by whatever it is that she saw on the phone.
"Actor Ryder Sterling just posted a photo of him and your ex-wife on his i********: account. The image has millions of likes already," she breathlessly informs.
That sounds crazy. How could the famous Hollywood actors have a picture with my ex-wife? Lorraine wasn't the type that chases after the rich and famous men for a share of their fame or money.
Aubrey quickly picks up her phone again and crawls back on the bed. She holds the phone up for me to see the image on the screen clearly.
The post makes my blood boil.
- Writer
