Page 56 of Broken Headboards
Even though I know—this isTess. This woman would never fall on her face. Unless she planned on doing it and she’d do it better than a fucking US gymnast landing after a triple-barrel axle or some shit.
I hear the words “soft” and “versatile” come from her and I nod my head, those are the most common adjectives to use when describing micro-suede. It’s interior design 101.
She mingles with the judges for a moment and there are some hushed words between her and her assistant. Then, she stares straight at me.
It’s an intense look, and I feel the bluntness of her sharp daggers piercing into me. She narrows her eyes into small slits and I can’t look away from her. It’s as if she nailed me to a cross, unable to repent for my sins until she lets me go.
She’s fucking powerful.
“Austin. You’re up,” A voice comes from behind me.
“Austin?” Another deeper voice emerges.
I can’t move.
“Mr. Randall…” Miranda taps my shoulder.
“Austin!” Taylor yells, and it jerks me out of her hold.Finally.
“Yeahs. Apologies. Come with me.” I wave them over to my sofa.
Get your shit together Austin.
“Are you ok?” Miranda says under her breath, hiding her mouth with her clipboard.
“Yeah,” I mutter and re-direct my attention back to the panel. “Here is my masterpiece.” I present my sofa in a Vanna White motion. Men can look good doing that too, trust me.
“Tell us, why did you choose leather again?” The VP chimes in.
“The choices behind the making of this sofa are all deliberate. At Oakmont, we specialize in using only natural elements and illuminating their innate beauty, which most overlook when they’re concerned with the overall appearance of a piece. I believe that this sofa speaks to the Clarendon Tower because of that aspect alone. It’s sophisticated, elegant, and exclusive, but really, it’s the smallest details that make Clarendon Tower what it is really is—the people, the paintings on the wall, the crystal in the chandeliers that sparkle across the lobby and so much more. Every inch is important and that’s not unlike this sofa.”
I continue, while leaning down to show them the hem of the couch where the leather is stitched together in an intricate weave. “The fabric I choose stands the test of time. It’s strong and has the capacity to withstand any element. Seeing as every part of this sofa is made out of only natural materials, it can endure most, like nature itself.” I reiterate Taylor’s word choices. “The coating I used ensures this while also making the material soft to the touch. All of which embodies and complements the Clarendon.”
I step back and let the judges look over my sofa and mull over my words, watching them deliberate certain aspects and occasionally jotting down notes in their notepads.
“Very well, done.” Taylor twist his head back.
“I am very impressed,” the VP says with a large grin plastered on his face.
“Thank you. I am very proud of this piece,” I add.
And, not to stroke my own ego too much, but that fucking monologue is Oscar-worthy. I’m surprised they haven’t given me the ten points already. I’m kidding.
Ok, not really.
I clasp my hands together and walk around my sofa as the judges walk over to the next contestant.
Wally.
And he doesn’t disappoint, baby.
To my surprise, and I think to the judges as well, Wally’s presses a button on the side of the sofa and out springs a bed.
That’s right, he made a sofa bed. And then brought it to the damn Clarendon Tower.
He knows no bounds, I swear to fucking God.
“How? Where…where do you see this going, Wallis?” One of the judges stammers out, almost lost for words.
