Behind The Curtain

Lisa took a slow sip of her coffee, letting the warmth settle her nerves. The fitting session had ended abruptly with Sally’s unexpected arrival, and Carla had managed to avoid her the rest of the day—distracted, no doubt, by inventory orders and supplier emails. Lisa hadn’t pushed, but she hadn’t forgotten either.
She leaned against the counter of The Factory’s small back office, watching as Carla flipped through a spreadsheet, brow furrowed in concentration. The room smelled faintly of fabric and perfume, the usual hum of business filling the space.
"You're glaring at the numbers again," Lisa remarked, breaking the silence.
Carla didn’t look up. “They’re glaring at me first.”
Lisa smirked, pushing off the counter to peek over her shoulder. “Anything I can help with?”
“Unless you’ve suddenly developed a talent for negotiating bulk discounts on lace,” Carla muttered, rubbing her temples, “I think I’m on my own.”
Lisa tilted her head. “You could always just charge more.”
Carla shot her a flat look. “Yeah, because our clients would love that.”
Lisa chuckled, perching on the edge of the desk. “Alright, alright. No price hikes. What’s the real problem?”
Carla sighed, sitting back in her chair. “It’s the usual. We’re trying to expand the premium line, but the production costs are…” She gestured vaguely. “Let’s just say ‘offensive’ and leave it at that.”
Lisa hummed in thought. “Then we need to make it worth it.”
Carla snorted. “You volunteering to buy a set?”
“Not quite,” Lisa said, smirking. “But maybe I could sell one.”
Carla frowned. “What?”
Lisa stretched out her legs, feigning nonchalance. “You’ve got models, sure. But what if people saw someone a little more…” She pretended to think, then grinned. “Unexpected.”
Carla blinked, then realization hit. “You want to model?”
Lisa raised a brow. “I mean, you did say I suit this.”
Carla rolled her eyes, but Lisa didn’t miss the way her lips twitched, like she was trying to fight off a smirk. “I was talking about a fitting. Not a full-on photoshoot.”
Lisa shrugged. “A fitting is one thing. Seeing it professionally shot? With the right lighting, styling, and photographer?” She gestured vaguely. “That’s a different level of convincing.”
Carla hesitated, tapping her fingers against the desk. Lisa could see the wheels turning in her head, the careful consideration behind her gaze.
“Okay,” Carla said finally. “But if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.”
Lisa grinned. “Define ‘right.’”
Carla pulled out her phone. “We’ll need a proper photographer. And a makeup and hair artist.”
Lisa blinked. “Oh, so we’re going all out.”
“You wanted serious, didn’t you?” Carla said, already typing out a message. “No point in doing this halfway.”
Lisa let out a low whistle. “Alright, boss.”
Carla didn’t respond, too focused on arranging details. Lisa watched her for a moment, something warm curling in her chest at the sight of Carla in her element—focused, determined, completely in control.
Finally, Carla set her phone down. “I’ll book everything for Friday night.”
Lisa raised a brow. “A nighttime shoot?”
Carla shrugged. “Ambience. Drama.” Then, with a small smirk, she added, “And pizza and wine after.”
Lisa grinned. “Now that’s a deal I can’t refuse.”
Carla shook her head with a soft chuckle, but Lisa didn’t miss the way her gaze lingered for just a second too long before she turned back to her work.
Lisa leaned back, her smirk deepening.
Friday was going to be interesting.

The rest of the week passed in a blur of fabric orders, client fittings, and last-minute adjustments to inventory. Lisa kept herself busy handling customers and helping Carla where she could, but something about Carla felt… different.
She was still sharp, still in control, still rolling her eyes at Lisa’s teasing, but there was something else beneath it. A distance. Like her mind was somewhere else, even when they were in the same room.
Lisa caught her staring more than once—watching her hands as she sorted through garments, her fingers as she absentmindedly traced the lace of a new set. But whenever Lisa called her out on it, Carla would snap back to reality, deflecting with a short answer or a convenient excuse.
Lisa didn’t push.
But she noticed.

Carla was alone again.
The Factory was silent at this hour, the hum of the city outside muffled by the thick glass windows. She had sent everyone home hours ago, locking the doors behind them, but she had stayed behind—like she had every night that week.
She stood in the soft glow of her workspace, hands steady as she threaded her needle, carefully stitching along the delicate lace she had spent the last few nights cutting and shaping.
The set had started as an idea. A way to make the shoot special. To make Lisa special.
But now, as she traced the delicate embroidery she had stitched by hand, she knew it had become more than that.
Every piece of fabric had been chosen with Lisa in mind. The deep burgundy hue to complement her skin tone. The lace pattern designed to trace the lines of her body, accentuating the curve of her waist, the dip of her collarbone. Every strap placed with intention, meant to sit against her just right.
She wasn’t sure when she had memorized Lisa’s body so completely.
But as she worked, the realization settled in her chest, heavy and undeniable.
She swallowed hard, pushing the thought away, focusing on the task in front of her.
This was for business.
That’s what she told herself.
She didn’t stop working until the sun threatened to rise.

Lisa strolled into The Factory, coffee in one hand, an easy smirk on her lips. "Morning, boss. Big day."
Carla, who was already at the counter, barely glanced up. “You’re late.”
Lisa raised a brow. "By two minutes."
Carla sighed, rubbing her temple. Lisa studied her for a beat. The usual sharpness in her eyes was still there, but she looked… tired.
"Did you sleep?" Lisa asked, setting her coffee down.
Carla exhaled through her nose. "Define sleep."
Lisa squinted. "Carla."
"I'm fine," Carla said quickly, moving to her desk. "Just busy."
Lisa folded her arms, unconvinced. "Busy doing what?"
Carla hesitated, just for a fraction of a second. "Finalizing details."
Lisa didn’t buy it, but before she could press, Carla had already moved on, flipping through papers.
"The shoot is at seven. Don’t be late," Carla added, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Lisa held up her hands in mock surrender. "Wouldn’t dream of it."
Carla didn’t respond, too focused on whatever she was skimming over. Lisa watched her for a moment, then shook her head, grabbing her coffee.
Whatever was going on in that head of hers, Lisa would figure it out eventually.

By the time Lisa arrived, The Factory had been transformed.
Soft studio lights had been set up in front of the backdrop near the main fitting area, casting a warm, flattering glow. A clothing rack stood nearby, displaying the final wardrobe choices, and a long table had been pushed to the side, now occupied by makeup palettes, brushes, and styling tools.
Dani, the photographer, was adjusting her camera settings while Jo, the makeup artist, unrolled her brush set with a flourish.
“Lisa, darling,” Jo greeted with a wide grin, patting the makeup chair. “Come sit. Let’s make you even more stunning, if that’s possible.”
Lisa smirked but did as she was told. “Can’t say no to that.”
She let Jo work, barely registering the strokes of the brushes as her eyes drifted toward Carla.
Carla was by the clothing rack, hands on her hips, surveying everything like she was mentally double-checking each detail. She was all business—efficient, unreadable—but Lisa caught the way her fingers hovered over one specific garment bag before she quickly moved on.
Lisa didn’t think much of it.
“Done,” Jo announced, stepping back with a proud smile. “You’re officially a goddess.”
Lisa turned toward the mirror, blinking at her reflection.
Damn.
Her cheekbones looked sharper, her lips fuller, her eyes darker—sultry and confident in a way she wasn’t sure she’d ever looked before.
“Not bad,” she mused, tilting her head.
Jo scoffed. “Please. Incredible.” She gestured toward the wardrobe rack. “Now go put on something lacey and let us all admire you properly.”
Lisa laughed, pushing to her feet. She made her way toward the garments, but before she could grab something, Carla was already there, a set in hand.
“Wear this one,” Carla said, her voice perfectly neutral.
Lisa raised a brow but took the hanger without question. She barely glanced at it before stepping behind the curtain to change.
Carla exhaled slowly the second Lisa was out of sight.
She had spent hours on this. Late nights, early mornings, adjusting and reworking every little detail. Every inch of lace, every delicate strap had been carefully stitched, shaped, and placed specifically for Lisa.
But Lisa didn’t know that.
Not yet.

Lisa stepped out from behind the curtain, adjusting a strap as she moved. The second she looked up, she felt the shift in the room.
Dani let out a low whistle. “Oh, this is the one.”
Lisa arched a brow. “Yeah?”
Jo nodded approvingly. “Definitely.”
Lisa glanced at Carla, expecting some kind of reaction, but Carla was silent, her gaze locked onto Lisa like she was seeing her for the first time.
Lisa smirked. “What do you think, boss?”
Carla blinked, snapping out of whatever trance she had been in. “It fits.”
Lisa chuckled. “I should hope so.”
Carla turned away, pretending to adjust something on the rack. “Let’s just get started.”
Lisa let it go, stepping onto the set as Dani began giving instructions.
The shoot itself was easier than she expected. Dani had a way of directing without making things awkward, and Lisa quickly found a rhythm—posing, adjusting, shifting under the lights as the camera clicked.
But every time she caught Carla watching, something in her stomach tightened.
Carla was focused, arms crossed, observing everything with her usual meticulous attention to detail. But there was something else there, something Lisa couldn’t quite name.
And it only got worse when Dani, reviewing a shot, let out a satisfied hum.
“Carla, come take a look at this.”
Lisa watched as Carla hesitated before stepping forward.
Dani turned the camera so Carla could see. Lisa was barely paying attention to the photo itself—she was watching Carla instead.
Carla’s expression didn’t change, but Lisa saw it. The way her lips parted slightly. The way her fingers flexed at her sides.
Lisa wasn’t sure what Dani had captured, but whatever it was, it had Carla speechless.
Finally, Carla straightened. “It’ll work,” she said, before turning sharply on her heel.
Lisa’s smirk deepened.