fastidious

adjective

1. very attentive to and concerned about accuracy and detail

2. very concerned about matters of cleanliness.

When I got home after enlisting my new male models for the show, I spent a half hour showering and pampering myself, looking after my face with my skin care routine, checking nails, de-tangling my frizzy hair, and generally just general up-keep and maintenance. It was bliss.

I was also trying to get the alcohol out of my system. I don't usually drink so much, but I guess it has become somewhat a novelty becoming eighteen again and, thus, a legal adult. You usually only do it once. Usually...

Patricia arrived an hour later with boxes and boxes of my clothing line. My first ever line. It was all finally intact, all men's, women's and kids all in one place finally. There were a total of thirty five sets of clothing for the show. I needed to prepare at least forty sets, giving myself a few extra sets for the show in case of emergencies.

Patricia led a couple of security guys into my lounge space with the medium sized boxes. Once they had deposited their loads on the carpet, she passed me my mail, then saw the guys out, locking the security door behind them.

They had obviously been roped in to helping bring the boxes up from the second floor of the building. I had office and storage space on the second floor, next to the new tea house's mezzanine floor. It was down the hall from the security office and building management centre of operations where Bob Blanchet worked. Most of the office space was crowded with boxes and folders and locked filing cabinets and stuff. It was totally not where I'd like an office, so I spent most of my studying and office work up here on the penthouse apartment's second floor office. Beautiful view.

"OK, so your office space is getting a little crowded out with merchandise. Have you thought about hiring a lock up storage space in a secure facility for all of your business stuff?" Patricia pulled the boxes closer to the three trestle tables I'd set up earlier in my lounge.

"I think that's a great idea. Please check if Overmeyer Corp has anything on their books. Wallace's assistant can help, or Mum might know of something we can use. Have the new fittings for the tea house arrived yet?" I asked my able assistant. She was amazing. I loved Patricia to bits. So organised, well informed, keeping me on my toes. I don't think I'd be able to manage Pyrus Projects and study full time without her assistance. A true goddess, this woman.

I stopped and watched as Patricia updated me on various business matters, building information and accounts that would need going over after the show. She stood there, powerful in her own way. Her business suit today was a mix of chic business with a splash of comfort. She held her tablet in one hand, rattling off facts and figures while opening my clothing boxes with a craft knife in the other hand. By the time she'd finished her updates, she had all the boxes opened and was laying out the new silk garments carefully on each table.

I pulled the garments from her hands and laid them out in the sets that matched for each model. Out came a portable label maker. She created a spreadsheet for which item of clothing went with which set, printed a label and stuck it on the inside of each garment before placing them all back into the boxes.

"All done. Wow, that was harder than I originally thought it would be." I helped Patricia collect everything back in boxes, then I wondered how we'd get it all to the venue, tables included.

"Can you get a van hired to take this load to Wallace and Mum's?" I asked and knew she'd get it done. Last minute tidy-up of my lounge, folding tables up again and tidying up the rubbish, we were finally done for the day.

I walked Patricia to the door, thinking about what to make myself for dinner. I was hungry.

"Don't forget you have a date with Teresa and Carlie at the local mall tomorrow at ten am. Do you want me to arrange it for later in the day?" Patricia was looking at her tablet for last minute details that needed clarifying.

"Oh, yes. Thank you. I'll text them before bed to confirm." I pulled my phone up to check the time and realised that it was getting late. "Rest well, Patricia. Thank you for everything today. You are amazing, as always."

"Certainly, Lily. I'm enjoying the new pace of life." She graced me with one of her rare smiles, small though it was.

"As long as you are happy. Keep the revenge for the long game." I reminded her then saw her out, locking up behind her.

Dinner was a light salad, as it was almost nine in the evening. I spent a little time practising the piano. I'd never make a concert pianist, but I enjoyed listening to the sound of the keys tapping away. It was therapeutic.

I woke in the night with a brief nightmare about Jac-Jac burning up in flames again. It was a recurring dream that I have had so many times since 'before'. I got up and went downstairs to the kitchen to get myself a drink of warm water. When I was on my way back up, I heard scratching on my door and went to investigate. There was no one in my door's video monitor on the security panel. I had an idea that a little Furbutt had made a visit, but since it was three o'Clock in the morning, I decided to give security a call before opening my door to potential intruders.

"Good morning, Ms Twice. How may we help you?" An older voice sounded warily over the phone.

"Sorry to disturb you so early in the day. I heard a sound outside my door and wanted to check with you guys and your video monitoring that it was the little Yorkie puppy from Ms Morrise. I didn't want to open it up at this time of the day to find any intruders. Please can you check for me?"

"One moment. Yes, it is the puppy outside your penthouse. Would you like one of my guys to come and collect it, Miss?"

"No, I'll manage. Thank you and sorry to disturb you." I hung up then opened up my front door to a tired little puppy. He straight away plonked his little furry butt on the floor and raised a paw as he whimpered. It was like he was telling me how hard it had been for him to raise his alarm, trying to get my attention. I picked him up, kissed his little head, pulling him into my arms. He fell asleep almost straight away. I waved at the monitoring camera in the hallways, mouthing a quick 'thank you', then closed myself in my home again.

"Come on you. Time for bed." I took Furbutt upstairs, deposited him on my bed while I finished up the glass of water I still had in my hand. I then poured a little of the warm water into my palm and held it before him snout.

He took a few licks of the water, got the idea that he was thirsty and drank the rest of the water from the glass as I held it on the side at an angle. I was too lazy to go downstairs to get a saucer for him.

Sleeping curled up in my arms, we spent the rest of the early morning in comfort.

When I woke at eight am, Patricia had already let herself into the apartment and taken the little guy back to his owner. A gift basket was laid out on the kitchen bench when I went down for breakfast. A note beside it read: "Thank you for looking after my puppy. Apologies for his escapades around the building. ~ Ms Morrise."

I pulled out a bottle of wine, wrote a quick "He's a gem! ~ Ms Twice", wrote out my cell phone number, then called security to aid me in depositing the bottle back to the puppy's owner.

I hope she didn't feel that his getting around the building was causing trouble. I really loved having his visits.