Birthday shopping was a bummer. Cassandra comes back home and is introduced to the fashionista Krille DeVuil. She was half Transylvanian, hence the name.
Aka… TriBaroness.
Because she has been a baroness of three barons, three times to many stitching companies for three times already. Also, fourth time’s the lucky charm in her case.
And she had made her name.
“Krille… what?” Louis tries not to spit his coffee back into the mug.
“Ahem,” before Mr. Ronald could explain about her origins, Louis keeps it short by saying, “I make all your custom orders from her company. But I think it’ll be worth it to have a dress made for you by her own skills. She’s more than skilled.”
“She’s a master of stitches, Miss Cassandra.” Ronald says, tipping his hat to indicate his departure as Louis was his boss.
“Wow. She’s famous, alright.” She says while scrolling through her phone and sitting beside Louis. He chuckles and tells her everything about her was true.
“Damn! Is she a lost cinematic twin of Cruella DeVil or something?”
“Maybe haha. She draws great influence from her though.” Says Louis.
“Great… I think I’ll go and get my bag-”
“For what?”
“I… have my new card in there! I wanna buy my dress on my… own…” she watches the male steadily rising in front of her.
“How dare you, Cassandra.” He says.
“Wh- what…?”
“How dare you disrespect me by not allowing me to buy you anything? Don’t I have the privilege to buy you a fricking dress too!?” Cassandra widens her eyes. She didn’t know what to say that will comfort the wrongly-upset male.
“Now now, I’m 18 and I don’t wanna-”
“Not. Yet! You’re still 17 and my little princess! Now come on!” Taking his coat which he appeared in as he crashed at the house, he takes Cassandra by her hand and makes her drive the car. She’s taken her lessons in driving fair and recently.
Cassandra listens to half of the conversation which Louis speaks and concludes that an emergency appointment was fixed with the Baroness.
As they reach the tall, aesthetic building in the middle of the city, Cassandra lets her eyes take in all the beauty that the building had to offer. Louis reaches the reception, holding Cassandra by her arm if she ever chooses to get lost in the huge building, wandering off like a child.
“Why are you holding onto me though?”
“Because when I came here for the first time on my own, I got lost just like yourself. Watching everything pictured so perfectly to the walls.”
“Haha! Makes sense.” Louis presses his lips into a thin line at her diss.
“Here you are, sir. Madam.” The receptionist opens the golden rimmed glass door to reveal another door. As the vacuum sealed door opens, a huge work room invited them. It was tall, three storeys fixated into one huge block of a structure.
“Damn. It’s my first time being here too.”
“He is Mr. Arya, sir. He will help you with anything you need. Tea, coffee, little snacks, lunch, dinner. Everything from your basic to high expenses.”
“Why, that’s commendable. I appreciate it, but you see we’re in a hurry-”
“No hurries in this house, Louis Johnson. All customers shall wait in line.” A groggy Female voice, tired of inhaling cigars enters through the tall middle staircase. Cassandra feels her breath leaving her lungs and never coming back at the appearance, the radiance, and the aura of the woman.
She blows a puff of smoke into the air, it’s pulled away by the air conditioners above their heads.
“Who’s this drat?” She asks Louis.
“Well, she’s the Other Johnson. Cassandra, meet Krille. Krille, meet my baby sister Cassandra Johnson.” As Louis introduces them to each other, Cassandra extends her hand to show her respect and gratitude.
“Introduce me a little more flamboyantly, boy. So this is The Johnson you make my team stitch clothes for. Hmm…” Says she.
“She’s got a good body.” Out of the blue, Krille touches both her chest which makes Cassandra jump and yell in surprise.
“Hey!”
“Equal tits,” without hesitation, Krille pinches her waist as well,
“Nice shape of hips,” And lastly, Krille naughtily smacks her ass. Loud and crisp.
“Ouch!”
“Haha! Nice ass, too. Come to my cabin, girlie. I’ll stitch the dress into you.” Cassandra watches the witch laughter roll out of Krille’s lips. She glances at Louis who was laughing at her as well.
“I feel dreadful around her, Louis. What the fuck…?” Louis tilts his head back and laughs as loud as his lungs allow. Might as well disturb all the tailors in here.
Louis drags Cassandra inside, Krille was standing on top of the huge staircase, rubbing her hands like a greedy dealer. Cassandra didn’t have a good feeling about this, however she wanted to give this opportunity a try.
She was The Krille DeVuil, after all.
And what comes out was an exhausted Cassandra who had to carefully wear eight pairs of paper cuttings for the design.
At last, one of it was chosen.
By Krille.
“This suits you, girlie. You like that?” She asks rudely. Cassandra chugs the glass of orange juice brought to her as she looks at the abnormal paper cuttings made on a thermocol which was cut for her shape.
“Yeah… it’s good.”
“Good?” Cassandra shrinks in her seat. What else was she supposed to answer?
“Girlie, I design clothes than are more than good. Now get your butt out of my office.” Says the frustrated middle aged lady. Louis drags a frowning Cassandra out of the cabin while snickering to himself.
“That hag. She’s so rude.”
“Yeah, I know. But if you love a profession that bad, I guess it’s easy to be rude to people than fake politeness.” Louis’s words etch onto her skull.
“Great words. Anyway, you’re taking me to your office tomorrow, right? Let me be there!”
“Sure! Why not? I think there’s a little conference we’re arranging as Johnson Group, our enterprises.”
“Uh-huh. What’s it?”
“We’re contributing to a special Ed building, reconstructing it but I think I’ll need some help from you.”
“Damn. What institute?”
“St. Pharrell High School.”