C - Suite

11 | Trust

NYLA HAD GONE  through her entire closet at least twice now. The place was looking like a mess. Clothes were scattered everywhere, and shoes had been flung across the room. Despite all her valiant efforts, she still couldn't find the boots she needed for her trip. Her flight was leaving in about six hours and for the third time, she mentally cussed out herself for not packing earlier.

In her defense, she'd been busy the last few days. Although the contract was signed between her and Darius, there were plenty of other things that remained unsolved and thus she'd been traveling between Renne and G Health headquarters quite often.

She needed the damn boots because she couldn't show up to a construction site in heels. That would just look stupid and it wouldn't earn her the respect of the contractors or the architectural firm she was working with.

Sighing, Nyla knew she had no choice but to go and buy boots. Glancing at the time, she winced. It didn't look like she had time to change out of her clothes or put on some makeup if she wanted to make it on time for her flight.

Grabbing her wallet and phone, she exited her penthouse. She'd called her doorman to order a taxi while she was exiting so when Nyla stepped out, the yellow cab was waiting for her.

"Where to Miss?"

"Salvatore Ferragamo, fifth avenue."

The driver nodded and took off, well as much as he could in New York City traffic. Nyla anxiously tapped her foot in the back, glancing at the time on her phone every couple of minutes. She could not afford to miss her flight. The firm had already been kind enough to push her visit after she couldn't come in last week but if she wasn't there tonight, it would really destroy the company—and her reputation.

"Can't you go faster?"

The driver pointed to the long line of cars in front of them traffic. "You see that woman? What do you expect me to do, fly over it?"

Nyla frowned at his tone.

"How far to you think 655 fifth avenue is from here?"

The driver was thoughtful. "Probably a block."

Nyla made her decision. She opened the door to hear honks all around her.

"Hey!" The driver shouted. "Where are you going? You haven't paid the fare yet."

Nyla opened her wallet and threw some cash into the cab. She knew she'd overpaid him, but it didn't matter right now. She started sprinting towards the stores, glad that she'd worn a pair of ratty sneakers over her stylish heels.

She vaguely knew where the shop was and although it would have been smarter to ask the people on the streets, she also knew this was New York, a place where people didn't even have seconds to give to someone else. She sighed in relief when she saw the familiar white building with the bold cursive letters.

There was a young lady at the door or cocked one straight eyebrow after seeing Nyla. "Are you sure you're not lost?"

Nyla smiled at her tightly. She was really regretting not wearing her fancy clothes in that moment because she knew that the sales associate was judging her—hard. She thought Nyla was some nobody who merely came into the store to window shop, but boy was she wrong. It sucked that appearance affected the way people treated one another but that was just reality.

"I'm looking for the Gancini Boots size eight?"

The employee looked momentarily confused before she pointed to another associate. "If you ask her, I'm sure she'll be able to help me."