"Eat My Ass."
Agatha couldn't wait for this day to be over. First all of that nonsense with Ralph about dropping Nicolas off with her two days early, then her ridiculous outburst in front of Rio, and now this.
‘Pull yourself together girl’ She hears her mother's scathing voice in the back of her mind.
“Shut up, shut up” Agatha repeats under her breath, attempting to dispel the voice that seemed to haunt her more and more each day.
The two things she hated most in the world, meetings and men. And this afternoon was certain to be a horrific combination of the two. As she flounced down the corridors, Agatha couldn't help but scowl at that teenager who always seemed to be lurking where he wasn’t wanted.
“Don’t you have a job to be doing Teen?” She said dryly as she passed him by." Yeah, that's what I thought.” She sniggered sarcastically as he scurried away.
Nope, it didn't help, she still felt like total shit. And she was mean to the kid. Again. For no reason. Her mouth really got away with her sometimes.
Her thoughts went to her own son, who was probably getting to work trashing her whole building while Vidal chased him around. A slight smile spread across her face. Rio... Agatha thought about her quite frequently now, the way she kept trying to slip fabric combinations and dress patterns and designs onto her desk, thinking that Agatha wouldn't notice. It was quite cute, really, and some of them weren't half bad.
Agatha groans, shaking her head as if to banish the thought as she took the elevator down to the conference room.
“They're awful. If she wanted to work in design, she should have applied for that job rather than trying to worm her way in” Agatha thought, though she couldn't quite quiet the little voice telling her to give the poor woman a chance. And the even fainter one, whispering that Rio was gorgeous
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
As soon as Agatha left the office, Nicky reappeared, his hyperactivity seemingly rejuvenated. He was running around the space like a little tornado, leaving a mass of destruction in his wake.
Rio couldn't help but laugh. She’d love to be able to trash the hell out of Agatha’s room and get away with it. “Hey, kid, maybe calm down a bit, I don't need your mother threatening my early demise again”
Nicky seemed to register Rio’s presence only then, and tilted his head, letting out a laugh at her comment about his mother.
“What's your name then?” He said, a little louder than necessary. It was apparent that he ‘d inherited his mother’s lack of subtlety.
Rio blinked in slight surprise at the sudden question. Forcing an unnatural smile, she crouched down to his level, not quite making eye contact
“Err. I’m Rio. And you're... Nicolas?” She says, trying to keep her growing discomfort out of her voice.
“Nicky! Only my dad calls me Nicolas. And his stupid girlfriend. And they're annoying, y’know!” Nicky said firmly, pouting his lips together in the same way Agatha always did.
“And don't crouch. I'm basically your height anyway” He giggles good naturedly, standing up on his tip toes. He was embarrassingly correct in his statement, and Rio instinctively straightened up.
“No, you’re not! I’m five foot six!” Rio announced, narrowing her eyes jokingly
“Hah, as if. You’re like, five one at most, Rio” Nicky replied, jutting out his chin smugly. Rio couldn't help but smile. She much preferred her biggest rival being a small child, they were more well matched.
“Right. Nicky.” Rio breathes, distracted by the mess surrounding them “Maybe we should work on tidying this place up, huh?” She says, defeat creeping into her tone before he even replies, knowing the attempt will be fruitless by the expression on the boy's face.
“No! Thats so boring Rio! You were so much more fun when we were fighting with the pens” He scowls, mimicking a grumpy expression eerily similar to the one his mother often wore, scrunching up his nose and furrowing his brows
This was going to be a long afternoon.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
Agatha practically sashayed into the meeting room, already losing the will even at the sight of these men. She could feel the brainlessness radiating off them, along with the stench of sweat and unmistakable maleness. Poorly hiding a sneer with her hand, she takes a seat, setting down her purple leather briefcase and reclining back, crossing one leg over the other.
One of them, a tall, wiry, balding man who’s name Agatha couldn't deign to remember, began, clearing his throat.
“Ah, Ms. Harkness, so glad you could make it. Shall we begin?” He says.
“Shall we?” She replies sarcastically, glaring around the table at the group with a scoff. “Riveting company here, no?”
The men glance amongst themselves, used to Agatha’s hostility by now. The bald man simply nods in agreement and replies, his tone slightly condescending.
“Right... We’ve looked through your proposed designs for the summer collection, and well, there’s a common opinion amongst us that perhaps... It could do with a bit of a refresh?” He says, his voice apprehensive. He studied Agatha’s souring expression as he spoke.
She did not take particularly well to criticism.
“Excuse me? Those designs are gorgeous, classical, traditional. They are what we are as a brand. I'm not into this stupid frilly nonsense where the models are dressed up as lampshades or jellyfish or some other shite on the runway” Agatha spits. She could feel anger building up; this was really the last thing she needed today.
The men in the room exchange glances once again, some looking fed up, others slightly terrified.
“Ms. Harkness, there’s no need to be offended. We simply believe the designs could use some updating, some, ah, innovative ideas to keep up with the times”
“The times?! Screw the times, my designs are the times. I set the trends. All the papers agree! You should see my latest reviews-” Agatha says, losing her composure a little, before straightening up and adjusting her suit jacket, taking a deep breath.
“Oh, I have seen the reviews Ms. Harkness. And they’ve been less than favourable as of late. Criticisms about your designs being ‘outdated’, ‘boring’ and ‘lacking creativity’, no? Not exactly rave reviews” The bald man says, his thin lips curving into a smug grin as he realises, he has the upper hand.
Agatha could have punched him.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
“What is Rio short for?”
“What even is your job?”
“Why do you work for my Mama?”
“Why do you have that green streak in your hair? Thats sick!”
“Do you do designs?”
“Are you rich?”
“Where do you live?”
Rio was utterly charmed but also felt the need to slam her head into Agatha’s desk. This child was unequivocally inquisitive, sat on the floor with his legs crossed, watching Rio as she sorted through the mess of papers. He was currently stuffing two donuts into his mouth at the same time, grinning.
“I like you, Rio. Do you like me? Can we be friends?” Nicky beams, offering Rio a half-eaten donut, which she happily takes and crams in her mouth.
“Yeah. Sure kid, you’re somehow more tolerable than your mother” Rio smiles, scooping a bunch of pens up and shoving them into one of the draws in Agatha’s desk. “She seemed real mad before, huh?” Rio says, her voice muffled by the copious amount of donut that currently occupied her small mouth.
“Yeah. My dad makes her annoyed sometimes. But its better now they're divorced. They fight less” Nicky says in between bites of donut, rubbing jam off his chin.
He said things in the same blunt way Rio did, and it made her somewhat more comfortable speaking to him. She felt a tug on her heart hearing the kid talk about his parents.
“Oh, damn. My parents were shitty too. Sorry kid” She manages to muster up, offering him another donut from Agatha’s Dior handbag, spilling a bit of jam down the velvet. She was never good at big emotions, what else could she do?
"You wanna help me prank Mama?" Nicky says with a giggle as he bit into the donut
"I like that idea kid" Rio nods, rubbing her hands together. Before she can start scheming, the boy springs up, slapping her shoulder surprisingly gently "Tag!" he yells, taking off down the corridor.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
“Oh, let's not be overly dramatic, shall we? Those reviews are nothing but a few snobbish opinions from critics with no taste! No vision! My designs are timeless, they're classics. I don't need to conform to some passing trends to be ‘current’ or whatever buzz phrase you want to throw around!” Agatha pauses for breath “I suppose you know all about fashion, huh?” She hisses, getting in the man's face. “You’re nothing more than a bunch of middle-aged businessmen trying to chase the latest trends so you can pull a good check and pay for a hair transplant!
The man leading the discussion waited a few moments, his smile faltering slightly: “That is precisely our point. Your designs are classic to a fault. If you want to pull profits this year, I’d suggest you consider our words.” he says calmly.
“Eat my ass” Agatha says, grabbing her briefcase and strutting out of the small room, closing the door behind her a little too aggressively.
She makes a beeline for the nearest bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it with a sharp click. The room is opulent, a large mirror on one wall, an unnecessarily large, ornate sink, and a plush white carpet underfoot.
Agatha paced back and forth for a moment, her frustration finding no outlet in the cramped space. Finally, she let out a defeated sigh, bordering on a growl as she slid down the wall. She put her head in her hands as she sat on the carpet, running her fingers through her brown locks, her usual stoney facade slipping. Her mothers voice, clear as day in her head, telling her she was useless. Those men were right. She was washed up. A failure.
Today had been too damn much.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
“Put your goddamn seatbelt on Nicky” Agatha shouted from the front of her Porshe. Catching sight of his surprised expression in the rear-view mirror, she sighed. She always, always managed to fuck it up because of her stupid emotions.
“Sorry darling. Mama’s just a little tired today” Agatha says from the front. Nicky was already blabbering on about his escapades with Rio that day. He’d grown used to Agatha’s outbursts, which was somehow even worse. ‘You’re not like her., You’re a good mother’ Agatha thought to herself. She’d sworn to never be like Evanora, yet she felt herself getting more and more like her mother every day. She lets out another groan, leaning her head on the steering wheel as they stop at yet another red light.
“Can I come to work with you again tomorrow, Mama? I wanna annoy Rio again! It's so fun! And she says we’re friends now. She says she likes me more than she likes you!”
Agatha bit the inside of her cheek. Why was she jealous of a nine-year-old?
“Darling, you have school tomorrow. And it’s Rio’s day off” The woman says, reaching her arm into the back of the car and putting her hand on her son's knee, caressing it gently.
“Love you Nicky, don't you forget that” she says quietly, before turning the radio back up.
The men’s words and the critics' harsh reviews lingered in Agatha’s mind as she tossed and turned in bed that night. She knew they were right, she knew she’d have to cave to those moronic men eventually. Hah. As if she’d give them the satisfaction. Though, it was inevitable Something would have to change to keep the business afloat. And Agatha couldn’t help but think that the insufferable PA her son hadn't stopped banging on about all evening was the woman for the job. The bits of designs Rio had stashed amongst her belongings were undeniably innovative, and her tolerance of the younger woman had grown significantly following Nicky’s declaration of their newfound friendship. She'd have to ask Rio for some concepts on Wednesday...
God, was it weird to think about her employee in bed?
Agatha groaned and rolled over, pulling the mauve quilts over her head.
It was too late for this.