Chapter 90 Bad Aura
“This isn’t right,” Stacy growled as she shoved another rolling rack of garment bags toward the far wall, the metal hangers clinking loudly. “You’re not supposed to be squeezed into some glorified closet while Valentina lounges in the CEO suite like she owns the place.”
The narrow space they were clearing for Leitana had originally been a shared stylist/prep room on the modeling floor. It was barely twelve by fifteen feet long and skinny, with one small window high on the wall, fluorescent lighting that buzzed faintly, and absolutely no privacy. One side was lined with mirrored vanities cluttered with makeup palettes, brushes, and hair tools. The other held tall rolling racks stuffed with wardrobe samples, accessory trays, and bolts of fabric swatches. In the middle sat two battered styling chairs and a portable steamer that hissed every time someone brushed past it.
Lafu, senior photographer and unofficial creative lead for most of the division’s campaigns, was on her knees sorting through a pile of old lighting gels and reflectors that had been dumped in the corner. She glanced up, sweat beading on her forehead.
“It’s the only free spot left,” she said, voice tight with frustration. “Every actual office is occupied. Valentina made sure of that, spread her team out like she was claiming territory since Ravial’s announcement hit.”
Marco, lead makeup artist and stylist, grunted as he muscled a second garment rack into the hallway to create more floor space. “We offered you our offices, mine, Stacy’s, Lafu’s. Hell, we’d share. But nooo, Miss Too-Polite won’t ‘inconvenience’ anyone.”
Leitana stood in the doorway, arms wrapped around a small stack of empty file boxes someone had found for her, looking embarrassed. “Mi no wan’ push nobody out. Dis space fine. Mi no need big room. Jus’ place to sit and read files quietly.”
Stacy stopped, hands on hips, glaring at the cramped chaos. “Fine? Leitana, this room barely fits all of us right now. Once we shove in a desk and chair, you’ll have to turn sideways to get to it. And the lighting is garbage—half the bulbs are flickering.”
Lafu stood, dusting off her jeans. “We’ll make it work. We’re clearing the back corner—move the second vanity out, push one rack into the hallway storage, stack the fabric bolts vertically. There’s an old drafting table in props we can borrow for a desk. And I’ll bring in one of my spare softbox lights so you’re not working under prison fluorescents.”
Marco nodded, already rolling up his sleeves higher. “I’ll commandeer a proper office chair from the exec floor when Valentina isn’t looking. And we’ll hang a curtain or room divider for some privacy. It’ll be cozy, but it’ll be yours.”
Leitana’s cheeks warmed, gratitude shining in her eyes. “Tank yu… all yu. Mi no deserve dis much trouble.”
Stacy snorted, softer this time. “You deserve the penthouse office, but this is what we’ve got. And honestly? Valentina’s probably fuming right now thinking she won. Let her. We’ll turn this closet into command central.”
Lafu smiled, a little fierce. “Exactly. Small space, big impact.”
Leitana stepped inside, setting the boxes down carefully. She looked around at the cluttered but clearing room, at her new friends working hard to carve out a place for her and felt something settle in her chest.
It wasn’t grand.
But it was hers.
And for now, that was more than enough.
“Phew, for such a small space, it really needed a lot of work,” Anya said with a chuckle as she leaned in from the doorway, surveying the newly rearranged room.
Stacy groaned dramatically, rolling her shoulders. “Yup, and my back is killing me from pushing that table in here.” She twisted side to side; a loud crack echoed from her spine.
“Damn, do you even exercise?” Marco teased, making a face.
Stacy flipped him off without missing a beat, and Marco laughed.
Leitana ran her hand over the smooth surface of the old drafting table they’d wrestled into the corner now her desk smiling softly. “It really fine,” she said, voice warm and filled with excitement. “Yu all do too much. Mi love it. Feels… cozy.”
Lafu wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “Cozy is one word for it. ‘Command closet’ is another.”
Everyone chuckled, the tension from earlier finally easing.
The door creaked open wider, and Diego slipped in, carefully balancing the familiar box in his arms.
“Special delivery,” he announced, setting it gently on Leitana’s new desk. “We can drop it off now, no one’s watching the archive hallway. Enzo’s on break, and Valentina’s in a meeting. Tomorrow morning it’ll be back like we never touched it.”
Leitana’s fingers brushed the lid. “Tank yu. Now we safe.”
Stacy flopped into one of the styling chairs. “So what’s the play tonight? We dive into those photos, start mapping the dates….”
A sharp knock cut her off.
Everyone froze.
The knock came again, firm, impatient.
Lafu’s eyes widened. “Who…”
The door opened before anyone could move.
Jim stood in the doorway, tall and polished in his tailored suit, smile pleasant but eyes sharp as glass. He took in the cramped room, the group crowded around the small desk, the box sitting innocently in the center.
“Afternoon, everyone,” he said smoothly, gaze lingering on Leitana. “Mrs. Ashbourne. I hope I’m not interrupting. I just wanted to personally welcome you to the division… and see if there’s anything I can do to make your transition smoother.”
The room went deadly quiet.
Leitana met his gaze steadily, a small smile polite but unflinching.
Jim’s eyes flicked to the box just for a fraction of a second then back to her face.
Leitana stepped forward, her curls bouncing lightly as she tilted her head with that wide-eyed curiosity of hers. “Oh, tank yu,” she said softly, then added with genuine puzzlement, “but who yu be, sir?”
She hadn’t realized who he was after all, she’d never seen a photo of him.
Jim stepped fully into the cramped room, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft click that somehow felt louder than a slam. He towered over the small space, his tailored suit and polished shoes making the cluttered prep room feel even tinier. His smile was wide, professional, but his eyes were sharp and calculating, lingering on Leitana with an intensity that made the others shift uncomfortably.
“So sorry I haven’t introduced myself properly,” he said smoothly, extending a hand. “Jim Caruso. Talent manager. I handled Celeste Rey’s portfolio in her final year… among others.”
Leitana hesitated for the briefest second, finally realizing who it was before placing her small hand in his. His grip was firm, lingering just a touch too long.
“Nice meet yu, Mr. Caruso,” she said politely, voice soft and melodic, withdrawing her hand gently but quickly. “Tank yu for welcome.”
Jim’s gaze flicked over the room, the makeshift desk, the stacked racks, the box sitting innocently in the center before settling back on her face. “I heard you’d taken a… modest space. I was surprised. The executive office is available, you know. Spacious. Proper. I’d be happy to have it prepared for you immediately.”
The offer hung in the air, wrapped in honey but filled with vinegar
Stacy’s jaw tightened. Lafu’s eyes narrowed. Marco folded his arms.
Leitana tilted her head, expression open and sincere. “Tank yu, but mi good here. Dis place cozy. Mi like close to mi team.” She gestured to the group with a warm smile. “Mi no need big office. Mi here for work, not show.”
Jim’s smile didn’t waver, but something flickered behind it, surprise, irritation, maybe both. “Of course. Humility is… admirable. But if you change your mind, my door is always open.”
He glanced at the box again, just a fraction of a second then back to her. “I also wanted to offer my assistance personally. Celeste’s files can be… complicated. I managed her contracts closely. If you need insight into any of her past bookings or arrangements, I’m the best resource since I heard you tool the box containing her files in the Archive.”
The room went still.
Leitana met his gaze steadily, her polite smile never faltering. “Tank yu, Mr. Caruso. Mi keep dat in mind. Right now, mi team helping mi good. But mi let yu know if mi need.”
Jim nodded slowly, as if weighing her words. “Excellent. I’ll leave you to it, then.”
He turned to go, pausing at the door. “Oh and Mrs. Ashbourne? If you do review Celeste’s final rider… some clauses are sensitive. Sponsor confidentiality, that sort of thing. Best handled discreetly.”
With one last polished smile, he slipped out, the door closing softly behind him.
The second it clicked, Stacy let out a low whistle. “That was slimy as hell.”
Lafu stared at the door. “He knows we know something. Or suspects.”
Marco rubbed his chin. “He’s fishing. Offering ‘help’ to see what we know.”
Leitana looked at the closed door, then back at her friends, her expression calm but eyes sharper now.
“Him nervous,” she said quietly. “Dat good.”
She placed a gentle hand on the box.
“We be careful,” she murmured, “Him give mi bad aura.”
The group exchanged determined nods.
Jim’s visit hadn’t scared them off.
It had only made them more certain they were on the right path.