Page 13 of Falling Into Gravity

“Not yet. Still with the tailor.”

“Okay. Text him. I want it for the game.”

“Noted.”

Aku turned back around. “What else?”

“Emails. You got four new client inquiries, one from a Netflix showrunner, and an invite to some gala you don’t care about.”

“Decline the gala. Forward me the Netflix one. Flag the others.”

“Done.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes. The printer spat out contact sheets. Niah typed fast. Aku started sketching.

“You ever miss modeling?” Niah asked suddenly.

Aku didn’t look up. “Nah, not really. I liked it, but styling is more my thing. Modeling was something I could do. Styling is something I built.”

Niah nodded. “Makes sense.”

Another pause.

“You ever feel like you building all this shit but don’t know what it’s for yet?” Aku asked.

“All the time.”

“Cool. Just checking.”

Niah smiled without looking up. “You good?”

“Yea, I think so.”

The scent of vanilla filled the room again as the air freshener hissed from the wall. Aku flipped another page in her sketchbook and leaned over her desk.

“Let’s kill these next six months,” she said.

“We got this.”

Business moved…time passed. And even though Aku didn’t say it, she felt it—that shift in the air like something was coming. Not now…but soon

chapter 4

. . .

The stadium was alreadyalive when Aku pulled up—music blasting, flags waving, vendors yelling over each other about hot links and churros. She double-parked just long enough to text Siasia.

Tell Esmeray to humble herself. I’m outside.

Aku laughed to herself knowing her little cousin was ready to talk shit. Esmeray was just like her daddy—always down to get in your business and crack a few jokes along the way. It was amazing to Aku how much everyone’s kids had grown up and so fast. With her and Qamar only being eight years apart, they had a different bond compared to her other uncles.

A minute later, Siasia’s text came through.

Siasia: She said you fake, but she’ll let it slide if your outfit clears.

Aku slid on her sunglasses and stepped out the Jeep. Her cropped jersey had Qamar’s number airbrushed across the back in silver glitter, paired with camo cargos and her clean white designer sneakers. Her hair was bone straight under a branded scarf and hat giving her that New Yorker look. When it came to dressing, Aku was pinned on all the girl’s Pinterest Boards.

Qamar had left her name at the gate, so she was let in through the private entrance.

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