CROSSROADS

12

Taraji pulled up in front of a big warehouse. She looked at the address to make sure it was right. She was relieved when she noticed a small Marco Jerroud Designs nameplate on the door. Taraji stepped out of the car and paid the cab driver. She put her messenger bag over her shoulder and headed into the building.

Taraji was amazed at the interior of the building. She couldn't believe it was the same place that looked like an abandoned warehouse from the outside. At 6:45 in the morning the office was buzzing. Men and women hurried around with stacks of drawings, racks of clothes and more.

"Can I help you?" the receptionist sitting at the small desk in the front asked. Taraji walked up to the glass desk. The receptionist looked like she belonged on a magazine cover and not sitting behind a desk answering phones. Her thin body made Taraji look fat. Her blond hair was pulled up in an up-do.
"Yes, my name is Taraji-"
"Henson. They are expecting you." She pressed buttons on the phone. "Henson is here." Taraji looked around at the various high-fashion photos on the walls.

Everyone wore the clothes. She couldn't believe she had the opportunity to do what Beyonce, Brittany Spears, Tyson Beckford and so many before her had done.

"Taraji!" Mariah said as she came from the back. Her pantsuit screamed expensive to Taraji. Mariah wore it well. Her black shoes added height to her curvy frame. She was thin, but not model-thin like the woman behind the desk. "Come on, they are ready for you."
"T'm nervous as hell, Mariah," Taraji said as they walked swiftly.

"Don't be, you will be fine."
They walked into a bright white room. The natural light from the windows illuminated the room, making it seem lighter than normal. There were three makeup stations set up on one side, two models sitting down while teams of people primped them.

Taraji noticed the photography area. It was a simple white area surrounded with lighting umbrellas. Mariah motioned for Taraji to take a seat in the empty makeup chair.

As soon as she sat down a tall, skinny black man wearing white skinny jeans and a white button-down shirt with the middle button buttoned only walked up. He pulled her ponytail holder off and started rustling his hands through her hair without saying anything to her.

Taraji looked at Mariah with a horrified expression.
Mariah smiled and shook her head. An hour later the chair turned around. Taraji gasped, she didn't recognize herself. Her hair was in a million wild curls. Dark eyeliner covered her smoky eyes.

Mariah walked up to her. "Well, damn." Mariah giggled.
"I don't know if I am mortified or intrigued," Taraji said, staring at her glam look. She picked her phone up and snapped a picture. She sent it to Zaria and Mckenna.
"Come on, time for wardrobe."

Mckenna sat at the end of a long rectangle table. The team assigned to Aaliyah's image went over tons and tons of pictures with Mckenna. Mckenna heard her phone go off. She picked it up while taking a swig from her water bottle. Taraji's new image appeared. Mckenna spewed her water all over the table. "Damn, I'm sorry. Umm.."

Before she could finish, Tee was cleaning up her mess. She nodded her head. She loved the assistant.
"Excuse me for a moment." Mckenna hurried out of the office. She pressed send on her phone. "Yeah," Taraji said as two women put various clothing items up to her body.
"What the fuck! Don't do that shit to me no more. I was in a meeting and almost choked to death. What the hell are you up to?"

"I really don't know yet. I'll have to tell you later. I gotta go. About to put some boots on."
"What!" Mckenna yelled. Taraji hung up and laughed. She knew her friend was a second away from a heart attack. Her phone instantly began to ring. It was Zaria. She sent it to voice mail and opted to send her a text message.
Can't talk. Modeling. Call you later.