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Ingrid crossed her arms, inspecting the building with a critical eye. The walls were bare and still in there drywall form. The floors were still concrete, a viable surface floor if she placed a gloss over it. She hardly paid any mind to her realtor, something that she frequently did as she fantasized about the futures her own shop could hold. She could just see it now; in charge of employees, meeting with local designers to fill her shop with one of a kind designs, and creating a beacon of fashion in the gray city.

“Ms Chaput?” The bulky man interrupts the redhead’s train of thought. She turned her blue gaze to him, curiosity on her face as she quirked a finely down brow at him, “Yes, Simon?” The man flipped open a file and handed her a paper that was littered with information on the building, including the age, the rent, and a bit of a background on the building.

“This was an old tea room?” She asked with a hint of surprise. Ingrid looked around the room, a mental picture of what the building had been conspiring all over. She was rather fond of tea rooms and it was hard to find a good one with an appropriate environment for tea drinking in this day and age. Half of them tried to bring about a Victorian feel while the rest hadn’t been updated since the 90s. Simon stood beside her and nodded.

Ingrid continued to circle the main room, a hand on her hip and the other holding her chin. The rent wasn’t too much to handle but if she had to do a numerous amount of renovations, the property wouldn’t be worth its salt. She hardly paid any mind to simon as he checked his smart phone near the door and waited for her to give her typical answer.

“Do you have anywhere else for me to look at?” The redhead inquired, turning to face her realtor. She could almost see his face contort into a displeased look but with years of practice, Simon managed to hold it back. He opened his file and flipped through it before he shook his head, “No, I’m sorry. Here and the last three places are all I have for you today.”

“Shame. I think this place is a contender but I’d like to see a few more places before I settle.” Ingrid concluded, slipping the information sheet into her purse, right next to the others she had collected from earlier in the day.

“I’ll be sure to have more for you next time. I just didn’t want to take up too much of your time.” Simon holds open the door as Ingrid passes him, stepping out fluidly into the dreary afternoon. “Alright, I’ll see you,” She paused and opened the calendar on her phone, “Next Thursday.” He nodded his conformation and they shook hands before going their separate ways. Ingrid strolled up the street, boot heels clicking as she went.

Even with the threat of rain, she headed for the park a block or two away. As she thought to herself, she considered the location. If she rented that shop, she’d be able to stop by the park for lunches and breaks. It was surely a nice plus that she would enjoy fully. Reaching the park, Ingrid sat herself on a bench with a background of silver birch trees. If Ingrid had to pick a favorite type of tree, it’d have to be a birch. Something about the colors of the stripes and the bright leaves seemed to entice her tastes.

Ingrid sighed and pulled her designer glasses over her eyes before she allowed them to close as she enjoyed the silence and all it’s comfort. Life was hectic and it’d surely become more involved when Abbey found out that her one and only stylus was leaving to open her own shop. But it was time for change, it was time for the redhead girl to spread her wings and fly. It had been seven years since Ingrid began to work with Abbey and her she was, 26 with a demanding job and not much of a personal life.

It had been weeks since Ingrid had taken time to do things she felt like doing. Outside of work and shopping for customers, she had to search for new places or care for Florence, the damned devil dog. She hadn’t set foot in a club or concert hall or theater in what felt like decades. The redhead would never admit it but she had a soft spot for the theater and fine arts.

The silence was broken by Caro Emerald’s Dr. Wanna Do and Ingrid couldn’t stop the groan from slipping out her painted lips. Sitting up, pushed her glasses to the top of her head and searched her leather and gold purse for her phone. “Hello, Ingrid Chaput speaking.” She greeted once she fished her phone from her purse.

“Ingrid. I know this is your day off and all but I need you here! I have a very, very important client that is requesting you.” Abbey rambled from the other end of the line. The redhead didn’t fight off the groan but rather let her boss know she had interrupted. “Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Ingrid huffed, getting up from her resting place and shouldering her purse. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Her boss repeated a number of times.

“You owe me big time for this.” She muttered, hanging up her phone and stuffing it back into her purse. She returned to the shop, wiggling her car keys out of her purse. Ingrid continued to grumble to herself as she unlocked the doors to her Passat before slipping into the luxurious black interior. The car started without a single problem and Ingrid pulled away from the curb as the cab of the car filled with Adele. The drive to the shop wasn’t made in much of a hurry but Ingrid arrived in a reasonable time, parking her car in the back lot.

The Londoner pushed open the back door and made her way to her office down the hall. She unlocked the door, tossed aside her purse, and gathered up her required tools for the job at hand. Before Ingrid left her office again, she checked her hair, fixed her makeup, and blew herself a kiss in the mirror for good luck.

“Hello! Sorry for the delay.” She greeted, stepping into the front of the shop and holding a hand out to a formally dressed woman. The woman cast her vivid eyes to Ingrid and took the hand, “Oh, it’s no trouble. Ms Marbele told me this is typically your day off. Had I known and not been under such a crunch, I would have scheduled for a different time.” The redhead waved her off, “No, no, no. It’s perfectly fine. Please, have a seat over here and we’ll talk about your upcoming event.”

Ingrid offered the woman the Victorian love seat while she sat herself in the matching chair and crossed her legs in a ladylike manner. “Now, I’m Ingrid Chaput and I will happily put together an outfit for any event you can think of.” The woman across from her smiled and shook her head. “I’m sorry, my name is Elizabeth Banner and I represent a local actor who has a red carpet event coming up soon.” Ingrid blinked before nodding and opening up a blanket document on her tablet.

“Alright, not a problem. Are you comfortable disclosing who this actor is? It helps to know who it is so that I may pick a perfect outfit but of course, I can do it without knowing.” She smiled, waiting with a bright smile as Elizabeth opened up her purse and pulled out a think piece of photo paper. She handed it to Ingrid with a smile, “His name is Tom Hiddleston and I’m not sure if you’re familiar with his work but he’s recently done a few movies and TV shows.”

The redhead’s heart seemed to clench as she looked over the picture, absorbing the devilishly handsome man. She knew damn well who Tom Hiddleston was. He was only the topic of every fangirl’s mind and he even had a respectable place in her mind, a place filled with Marvel superheroes and villains. “I think I’ve heard of him.” She played it off, handing the photo back to the woman. Elizabeth smiled, “He’s an amazing actor, no doubt of it.”

“I have a few basic questions to ask you about the event, the venue, and some questions about the style you’d like to go with.” Ingrid held her stylus at the ready and watched as Elizabeth’s face seemed to transform with curiosity. “Style? Wouldn’t that be a question for Mr Hiddleston himself?” She mused. The redhead shrugged, “It can be but seeing as I’m meeting with you.” The woman across from Ingrid hummed in thought before pulling out a rather bulky looking electronic device and used a similar stylus to scribble on the screen.

“Seeing as I don’t feel comfortable with selecting Tom’s style, since it varies, I can schedule you for a meeting with him on...” Elizabetha paused before letting out a soft sound, “I can schedule a meeting between the two of you on Wednesday. Around two or so, if it works for you of course.” Ingrid pulled out her phone and checked her calendar before nodding.

“Wednesday will work just fine. I can give you my personal number and we can discuss a location for meeting. Now,” She locked her phone and picked up her tablet again, “Shall we discuss the event?”

Elizabeth nodded and rested against the back of the love seat, crossing her own legs. “It’ll be a typical red carpet, magazines and reporters will be all about. There will be important producers and other actors and actresses, obviously. It’ll be a large venue, a bit of an outside area but the main area will be indoors and in a grand room. There will be a dinner with a bit of speech giving and Tom has been offered a chance to give one so he needs to be represented properly.”

Ingrid made notes of all the details the personal assistant could offer, scribbling madly as she thought up potential ideas of suits and colors that would turn heads. If he was giving a speech, a bow tie would certainly fit best and accompany the formal feel of the event fluidly. “Okay, any other notes?” Elizabeth thought to herself before making another list of things Ingrid would have to be sure of to remember, seeing as Tom most likely wouldn’t.

At the end of the meeting, the Londoner walked Elizabeth to the door and they shook hands once again. “Be sure to call me or text me with the details.” Ingrid reminded her, slipping her a business card with her personal number written clearly on the back. “Not a problem! I’ll be sure to call you tomorrow once I talk to Tom.”

“Perfect. I hope to see you again!” Ingrid waved, watching Elizabeth disappear before walking back into the shop and gave a sheepish looking Abbey a very displeased look. Before the blond could begin apologizing, she cut her off, “Don’t even start with me. I was very busy today and you called in my like five minutes of relaxing. I’m going home for the rest of the day, don’t call and certainly don’t swing by.”

Abbey sighed in defeat and she watched Ingrid leave in a rush, purse over her shoulder and office locked in the blink of an eye. “You’re just going to let her boss you around, the boss?” Elena jumped in, arms crossed over her chest. “Hush Elena, Ingrid is a very valuable employee and I did interrupt her day off. She has every right to be frustrated with me. Now, get back to work.”

The drive back to Ingrid’s loft gave her plenty of time to cool off before she had to ride the elevator to her place and she’d have to deal with a whole new hassle; Florence. It came as a surprise to a lot of people as to why the young woman kept the dog around when all she seemed to do was whine about owning her but it wasn’t a simple case of getting rid of the dog, it was getting rid of her purpose.

“Florence!” Ingrid called once she reached her flat and had her door open. The sound of a 32 pounds of energy and fur hitting hardwood floor resonated from her bedroom and a wild ball of blue emerged, running at full speed. The terrier hardly paid any mind to her previous obedience lessons and jumped all over her mistress with great excitement. The redhead rolled her eyes and shooed the dog, “Off, now or we don’t go for a walk.”

Almost immediately the pooch complied, sitting pretty and watching with dark eyes. Her ears were perked, clearly trying her hardest to hear the following command. “Sit.” Ingrid spoke in a firm voice, holding up the matching hand signal. Instantly, Florence is seated with her head cocked. “Good girl.” She praises softly, leaning over to stroke her wire like coat. The terrier wasn’t the softest but she certainly wasn’t a nightmare either.

“Dinner first, then walk.” Ingrid reminded Florence, shuffling over to the kitchen. She discarded her purse and jacket at the dining table and felt a new air about her. She was finally done with work for the day, meaning the heels could be traded for much softer shoes. The kitchen area became a haze of steam and spices as Ingrid performed a culinary dance all about, tossing pepper in one pot and chilie powder in another. It was no secret that the Londoner loved her spices, among them being her prized sriracha sauce.

On any dish one could imagine, the sriracha sauce brought about a new kick of flavor to traditional dishes. Watching from her dining table seat, Florence kept a watchful eye on her master. Hunger danced in the animals black eyes and with a small side step, Ingrid began to prepare a separate dish for her pooch. The terrier waited with excitement as she watched all the food around her, just hoping there’d be scraps from Ingrid’s meal left over.

After a rather large meal for the duo, Ingrid found Florence’s leash by the door and clipped it to her collar. “Just a quick walk tonight, I have work to do once we get home.” She reminded the bundle of excitement at her side. But it was completely ignored as Florence continued to scratch at the door and whimper with desperation. The young woman couldn’t stop her eye as she shouldered her purse and opened the door to their nightly adventure.