Shari Mong

Love Without a Home


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“Are there any questions?” Elisa asked as she looked around the room.

      They all shook their heads no. “Well if that is all and there are no questions, then this meeting is adjourned. You all can get back to work now, start on the designs that you all have a month to show me. They all get up to leave.”

      Their theme for the fall show in London was Autumn Elegance and Fun. Everything had gone well and Elisa was very pleased. As Elisa was gathering up her belongings, her cell phone rang. Her employees knew better than to call her on her cell phone unless it was of the utmost importance. She answered it impatiently wondering who it could be.

      “Hello,” she said hastily. “Now is that anyway to treat an old friend?” It was Guy Drakes, the man she met at the London fashion show last year and she had been seeing occasionally. She had not heard from him in a while, so she was surprised. Elisa was not the one who had time for a relationship and to give all her time to a man; she was married to her career she so ardently pursued.

      Guy Drakes had dark hair and stunning hazel eyes, he was bold, and handsome. He owned all the Drakes Jewelry stores around the world and provided the jewelry to the models. He and Elisa had spent many nights together in London. He was busy with the fashion shows, traveling around the world, and checking up on his business. He was one of Forbes top ten. Guy had racked in billions for his business. He was savvy.

      “I am sorry Guy, but you know better than to call me when I am working. When I am at work I concentrate on that.” Elisa was heading back to her office.

      “Forgive me my Mon Cherie, but I am back in New York and was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me tonight?”

      She had much rather just planned on spending the evening at her townhouse and snuggling up to a nice dinner by her chef Emilio and diving into her work. She had been working diligently night after night and it had paid off. She got back to her office and shut the door. When she did not answer, Guy spoke again.

      “Well my Mon Cherie,” he started calling her that in London. Guy had been married twice before and had many mistresses and Elisa knew that. She did not want a commitment and Guy said he would never marry again. She knew she was stepping in dangerous waters with him, but he was great in bed and when they were together, she had to admit, she had a great time.

      “Yes Guy, I will have dinner with you. What did you have in mind?” Elisa sat down and looked out at her window in her office.

      “I want it to be a surprise. So wear your best, I know you always do. You did in London.” Guy said with sexiness in his voice. “I was wondering my Mon Cherie, I would like to take you on my private plane to the Greek Isles and then on my yacht. How does that sound.”

      “Very enticing,” Elisa said with a modest tone to her voice. “But I have a lot of work and I have a fashion show in Paris coming up in seven months. I have my designers and my photographer working profusely on this. I cannot just up and leave for a weekend.”

      “Yes you can Elisa,” Guy said. “We had a great time in London and you were able to leave your work for a while and enjoy all of what London and I,” he laughed mischievously, “had to offer.” Elisa knew he was right. She had such a good time in London. “You can tell me tonight at dinner and I will have my plane fueled up and ready to go if you decide you want to do this. Okay my Mon Cherie.”

      Elisa put her hand to her forehead and told him, “okay.”

      “Good it is settled then. I will pick you up at your townhouse at seven thirty. I have missed you Elisa and I look forward to seeing you tonight.” He could be so vivacious and coy at the same time.

      “Me too, I will see you at seven thirty.” Elisa hung up the phone. She delved into her work as she tried to put Guy out of her mind. She called her assistant Sissy into her office.

      “Yes Miss Drinnings,” Sissy was cute with an “I love Lucy” attitude. She had been a dedicated assistant to Elisa.

      “Hold my calls; I will be busy for the rest of the afternoon going over these pictures for the winter collection before I give my approval.”

      “Yes Miss Drinnings.” Sissy said.

      “I will have a decision by the end of the day on this.” Sissy nodded her head and shut the door. For the rest of the afternoon Elisa fervently approved and disapproved things.

      She called her photographer, Carl Drixel, into her office. “You called me Miss Drinnings.” She looked up from the layouts. Her employees were to only call her by her last name. “Yes Carl, I have these ready,” he walked over to her desk and she handed him her approved layouts for the winter collection of Pose Magazine. “I want this started on ASAP and even if you have to work nights and weekends. This must be done soon.”

      “Yes Miss Drinnings. I will get right on them.” Carl said grabbing the layouts for the winter layout.

      “Good Carl, our competitors have already pushed their publishing of their winter line. I want to astound people with ours.”

      “You know how to do that Miss Drinnings,” Carl smiled. Elisa kept her business face. She was not amused by her employees coddling her with kiss ass remarks. She had no use for them. Carl took that look and left. After he shut the door, Elisa picked up her things and headed out of her office.

      Many were still busy working and would be burning the “midnight oil.” They all waved goodbye to Elisa and she waved back. She smiled at knowing her crew was doing everything they could to make Pose Magazine a huge success and keep it that way. She had to decline many who walked through the doors of Pose Magazine looking for a job.

      She conducted the interviews and colleges who would send recruits to her. Even the colleges knew she wanted nothing less than the best. They would send their most prestigious designers to her. But Elisa had the final say in who got hired.

      She walked outside. It was still sunny and warm. Her chauffeur was waiting. She ignored the man on the sidewalk. She got in, she wondered to herself how could people just beg off of other people and try not to even better their lives or work for what they want.

      This was New York and she had seen her share of homeless people on the streets. She paid no attention to them. It was not her place to try and save every living soul, or provide for them. She had grown up with a hard life and worked her way up to success. America was the land of opportunity and she seized upon it, why couldn’t they?

      The car pulled away from the curb as the man standing there with the tin can in his hand looked on.

      CHAPTER 2

      Kyle Rimmer looked down into his can. Well, he thought, not bad for a day’s work. He would go and get something to eat, and feed the birds in Central Park before heading back to spend the night in his usual spot under the bridge.

      He had been in the military and knew how to survive. He had survived two tours in Afghanistan before heading back to the states for good. What he saw over there could mess anyone up. He was medically released from the military.

      Surviving a shot to the head, he lost some of his vision and was unable to work. He would wake up many mornings with headaches and sometimes even migraines. However, he did not have the insurance to see a doctor. He had come back to New York to find his wife gone. She had cleaned out his savings and left him with nothing. She had left a note and divorce papers for when he arrived home from the war. She had run off with his best friend.

      After his time in the hospital, and after his release, he had made his home on the streets of New York. Many people just walked by and did not give him a second glance; many would put money in his tin can to get him through another day.

      He would sleep under the bridge and then find a street to make his money. He survived sleeping in the cold desert nights by his jeep with the clothes on his back and his gun to his side. He would wake up in the hot Afghanistan weather to be ready for his mission.

      He would trudge up mountains in pursuit of the Taliban. He never complained,