Post by Mercedes Love on Dec 28, 2006 17:01:34 GMT -5
“Hi, sweetie, it’s mom. Umm, don’t worry about coming in today, um…get some sleep…”
Tiffany Tritoni was on the Cede Speaker phone, which laid on her bed, facing upwards so she could get dressed and talk at the same. At her mother’s mention of not coming into work, Mercedes stuck her head out of the bathroom door to give the phone a look as if was plotting against her.
“Mom…I’m coming…what’s wrong with you…”
“Really…stay, sweetie.”
“I’m coming.”
“Mercedes…”
“I’m coming. The end. Goodbye, Mother.”
Mercedes picked up her Sidekick III and ended the call, only to then drop it on her bed, and ignore the vibrating alert that said someone was calling her. Finishing her final change, Mercedes slid her feet into a pair of comfortable black wedge heeled snow boots, and made sure her Chip and Pepper Skinny jeans were tucked in perfectly. Sliding on her black sweater over a white, lace trimmed Cami, Mercedes left her room, grabbing her wallet and light purple razr, which she used for business use, and skipped out of the pent house doors and into the elevator. The moment they open again, she was out and pushing the big glass doors open to hail a cab. Sliding into the first one that stopped, Mercedes muttered the words ‘M and T’, and was off the be the CEO of the modeling world as we know it. Starring out of the window, opposite from that of that of the M&T, Mercedes was unpleasantly surprised they had stopped a half of a block sort. Fine. She could walk the rest of the way. She could see it from here. Then., she stopped dead. Starring at the face of the building. Or more, what was on it.
On that very building, where she walked the halls like a goddess, was a picture of her, fooling around with a photographer during last weeks shoot. Oh, god. Who the jell would do something like that too her? Everyone knew it was like…a law that you we’re suppose to mess around with your photographers. This could possibly mean her job. And her respect. And her life…and…wait. She knew one photographer at M & T. Only one. Did he… Maybe. It was possible. Very possible. Mercedes could feel her eyes getting hot. That was too much. She got right back in the cab, and he knew exactly where to go. She couldn’t possible waltz in there like she hadn’t seen the Big, Degrading, Horrific poster the was hanging from M&T. But that wasn’t just it. Betrayed, by Paris? He was the only one that she knew, he knew her, and had access to that room. Her photographed for M & T once, and her mother loved that shot, told him he could work for her anytime. But did she give him access to her office. Because that roll of film had been tucked away in her desk. She had planned on developing the pictures herself. Probably. He probably did. Told so big lie to get in, and once he got in, he could search for anything…and then when he found it, he hit the jackpot. Perfect. Single-handedly make Mercedes the sluttest girl in NYC.
Tiffany Tritoni was on the Cede Speaker phone, which laid on her bed, facing upwards so she could get dressed and talk at the same. At her mother’s mention of not coming into work, Mercedes stuck her head out of the bathroom door to give the phone a look as if was plotting against her.
“Mom…I’m coming…what’s wrong with you…”
“Really…stay, sweetie.”
“I’m coming.”
“Mercedes…”
“I’m coming. The end. Goodbye, Mother.”
Mercedes picked up her Sidekick III and ended the call, only to then drop it on her bed, and ignore the vibrating alert that said someone was calling her. Finishing her final change, Mercedes slid her feet into a pair of comfortable black wedge heeled snow boots, and made sure her Chip and Pepper Skinny jeans were tucked in perfectly. Sliding on her black sweater over a white, lace trimmed Cami, Mercedes left her room, grabbing her wallet and light purple razr, which she used for business use, and skipped out of the pent house doors and into the elevator. The moment they open again, she was out and pushing the big glass doors open to hail a cab. Sliding into the first one that stopped, Mercedes muttered the words ‘M and T’, and was off the be the CEO of the modeling world as we know it. Starring out of the window, opposite from that of that of the M&T, Mercedes was unpleasantly surprised they had stopped a half of a block sort. Fine. She could walk the rest of the way. She could see it from here. Then., she stopped dead. Starring at the face of the building. Or more, what was on it.
On that very building, where she walked the halls like a goddess, was a picture of her, fooling around with a photographer during last weeks shoot. Oh, god. Who the jell would do something like that too her? Everyone knew it was like…a law that you we’re suppose to mess around with your photographers. This could possibly mean her job. And her respect. And her life…and…wait. She knew one photographer at M & T. Only one. Did he… Maybe. It was possible. Very possible. Mercedes could feel her eyes getting hot. That was too much. She got right back in the cab, and he knew exactly where to go. She couldn’t possible waltz in there like she hadn’t seen the Big, Degrading, Horrific poster the was hanging from M&T. But that wasn’t just it. Betrayed, by Paris? He was the only one that she knew, he knew her, and had access to that room. Her photographed for M & T once, and her mother loved that shot, told him he could work for her anytime. But did she give him access to her office. Because that roll of film had been tucked away in her desk. She had planned on developing the pictures herself. Probably. He probably did. Told so big lie to get in, and once he got in, he could search for anything…and then when he found it, he hit the jackpot. Perfect. Single-handedly make Mercedes the sluttest girl in NYC.
