On Monday, Maya woke up before her alarm for the first time since the FKA sunrise pregame on the morning of commencement and conjured a look she knew Lacey would appreciate. In the last week or so, Lacey had started mentioning the annual Clarke Stein trip to Paris Fashion Week as if Maya were actually in the running to go. Each year, CS sent one PR assistant along with Lacey and Moses, and most of the PR girls had long given up the dream of going, assuming the spot would go to Tatiana. But if you really pressed, they’d all admit the famed PFW trip was half the reason they applied for the job in the first place. Maya, work averse as she was, wasn’t a heartless freak. Of course she wanted to go to Paris and sit thigh to thigh with Lacey and Edward Enninful at the CS show, and stay at the Peninsula, and go to an expensive dinner where she would pretend to understand why a human being would choose to eat a sautéed snail over fried chicken. This was the glamour she’d been looking for all this time, the Devil Wears Prada / The Hills mashup that had gotten her interested in fashion in the first place.
Maya didn’t even realize how early she’d woken up until she thrust her arm into the elevator to stop the doors from closing and found a morose Tatiana standing inside, clutching two iced coffees, her delicate fingers circled top to bottom in thin gold rings. One of the coffees was Tatiana’s, obviously, but Maya could tell by the telltale swirl of caramel syrup that Tatiana had also gotten a Venti caramel iced flat white (with one pump of simple syrup and a packet of Monkfruit in the Raw) for Lacey, a clear attempt to win back her title as the number one PR assistant. Of course, Tatiana had noticed her diminishing standing in Lacey’s eyes, and as a result, had ratcheted up her efforts to win Lacey’s approval. Just a few weeks ago, Maya would’ve rolled her eyes at Tatiana’s desperation, but this morning she was feeling particularly forgiving, bolstered by how flawless she looked in her newly conjured Prada loafers and long-sleeved Duaba Serwa crop top.
“Good morning, Tatiana,” Maya said sunnily as she stepped into the elevator and turned to face forward. She took off her sunglasses and slid them into their soft fabric case.
“Hello,” Tatiana said coolly. It was like someone had wrenched the word out of her.
Maya stifled a laugh—Tatiana should at least try to seem unbothered—and began rifling through her royal blue Telfar bag for a piece of gum to cover the smell of her morning coffee. She pushed items aside as she did: noise-canceling headphones, her heels, a box of travel-size tampons. Finally she spotted the pack of extra-whitening Trident. As she pulled the gum out, Maya displaced several random items that clattered to the floor of the elevator: a sewing kit, a mini flat iron, and—fuck. A little rectangle of black silk flew into the air and floated to the ground. Maya bent quickly to pick it up, but Tatiana was watching, and had already seen it. The two girls locked eyes, Maya willing Tatiana not to be the absolute monster Maya already imagined she was. The top was easily identifiable: CS Spring/Summer collection, over $3000, rumored to be the shirt of the season, and yet to even be photographed.
Maya may or may not have nipped it from the samples closet Friday night. But Maya was not the only one who took advantage of the closet—all the girls did it when they had important events coming up, or even just a Hinge date. As long as they followed the three S’s—(don’t) sweat, (don’t) stain, (do) steam—and had the items back in the closet before Moses noticed they’d gone missing, what was the harm, really? In fact, Maya had a theory that Lacey probably knew about the whole borrowing system and turned a blind eye. But when Maya really put her mind to it, she couldn’t remember ever seeing Tatiana in one of those after-hours closet shopping sessions with the other girls. Was it possible that Tatiana was actually such a goody-two-shoes that she didn’t even borrow free CS goods? Was she enough of a kiss-ass to actually snitch on Maya? When they reached their floor and the elevator doors dinged, Tatiana’s maroon-glossed lips tipped into a smirk.
“Don’t!” Maya started, but Tatiana was already sweeping out of the elevator, speed-walking toward the back of the office.
Maya followed her at full speed, scooting around various desks and CS employees who were milling around the room. As they rushed through the office, people stopped to watch—it was obvious something scandalous was brewing.
“Tatiana, please!” Maya whispered harshly. She could only be headed to one place.
Tatiana ignored her and kept walking.
“Come on, Tatiana, like you’ve never borrowed anything from the closet!” Maya was right on Tatiana’s heels. “Lacey is not going to care. If you say anything, I’m gonna tell Lacey you’re the person who keeps leaving the break room fridge open. Or that you take a one-hour lunch!”
At this Tatiana let out a haughty laugh—it was far too unrealistic an accusation.
“Or that you borrowed the Khrystiana!” The Khrystiana was the centerpiece in the CS Winter collection, a decadent black organza gown that was to be worn by Celeste Porter to the Oscars that year (nomination pending).
At this, Tatiana finally responded. “Oh, please,” she said, wind flying through her curls as she progressed through the office. “Lacey would never believe something like that.”
Maya’s heartbeat sped up. She could not lose the last few weeks of hard work over a tank top. She panicked, and, eyes trained on Tatiana, she channeled a sudden swell of magic at Tatiana’s feet (which were clad in a pair of, honestly gorgeous, croc print Brother Vellies ankle boots) and willed her to stop. It felt strange to use her powers on another person—so far, she’d only used them on and for herself—but she deployed her power before even thinking about it. Almost immediately, Tatiana stopped, so abruptly that she bumped directly into Lacey, who had just come around the corner that led to her office. Tatiana’s two coffees lurched out of her hands and spilled everywhere, landing on Lacey’s white shirt-dress and enormous Balenciaga Triple S sneakers in Pollock-like formations.
Lacey let out a squeak—particularly shocking because the Lacey they knew was so unflappable and baritone-voiced. Open-mouthed, she looked down at the mess Maya and Tatiana had made.
“Oh God. Oh my god,” Tatiana started.
“Shit,” Maya said, numbed.
Lacey finally looked up from her dress, and employees started fluttering around her with napkins, patting at the fabric. She zeroed in on the Maya and Tatiana.
“Lacey, I am so so sorry. I just wanted to tell y—”
Lacey held up her hand. “Enough, enough! I don’t care what you think you had to tell me, Tatiana. My office is not fucking Equinox!” She placed her hand on her forehead. “I thought this little competition between you two would be beneficial, maybe inspire some good work, but clearly neither of you can handle it,” she hissed, looking between the two girls. “You’re both on probation until I change my mind. Hopefully that will turn you into less of a goddamn nuisance.”
Lacey returned to where she’d come from, presumably to change.
Maya and Tatiana turned to the office space, where most of their coworkers gaped at them, not even pretending to hide their rubbernecking. Maya resisted the urge to scream. Probation at CS basically meant being relegated to personal-assistant-slash-workhorse with no rights. Tatiana was biting her lip anxiously as they walked, and looked as if she might cry, but Maya had to hold herself back from grabbing a fistful of Tatiana’s opulent hair and finding out whether it was real or fake once and for all. She tried to catch Tatiana’s eye, but she kept looking away—where had all that inhibition been five minutes ago? Maya thought to herself.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Maya snapped, cornering Tatiana by her desk. Tatiana looked up, her face warped by a mixture of guilt and fear. “I do one thing better than you at work and you decide that you’re going to get me fired? Or worse, put on probation? Is it crack?!”
“I didn’t think she was going to fire you,” Tatiana warbled. “Or demote us. I just thought you’d get yelled at, maybe get stuck refilling the gift bags at one of those holiday fundraisers or something.”
“You didn’t think that reporting me for taking the highlight of Vogue’s November issue would get me fired? Again, are you nuts? Now we’re stuck in PA purgatory and you saw how well that worked for Ashley Anand.” Ashley Anand now worked at The Gap.
“Well . . . you cheated! I don’t know what you did, but you cheated. The dress Mathilde was wearing completely disappeared! And then out of nowhere you have an identical dress in the exact shade that Harry wanted? Come on.”
Maya took a step back. She had been discreet while changing the color of the dress, even paying special attention to Tina for the rest of the day to make sure she hadn’t seen anything. But maybe she’d missed something. “What do you mean, cheated?” Maya mumbled.
“Don’t play dumb,” Tatiana said. “You obviously went into the senior resources drawer while Faye was away from her desk. You know we’re not allowed to use that drawer for internal shoots.”
“Oh,” Maya said. “Well, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal if I saved the shoot. And I definitely don’t think that’s a good enough reason for you to snitch on me to a woman who has our careers in the palm of her hand.”
Maya and Tatiana stared at each other for a long moment before Tatiana had the decency to avert her eyes. “Whatever,” she said, full of bluster. “I’m not Ashley Anand. I don’t know about you, but my probation probably won’t even last the year.” Maya didn’t answer. Instead, she rolled her eyes, hoisted her bag over her shoulder, and stormed to her desk, making sure to shoot Tatiana one last withering look before she sat. At the very least, she was sure she’d scored herself a sanction.