Sometimes the universe conspires to help things go your way. As rare as such a phenomenon is, I was the kind of person who could appreciate it with my whole heart.

When Monday morning came, I woke up early and went through the routine I had all the years I worked at Tropicana. I thought back to the time I was getting ready for the interview that would eventually turn into a full time position, back when I was still in NYC. I was already an employee at the fashion house where I did the dream internship I scored from the big fashion showcase, the one where I made Miguel wear a gown.

At first I had loved it. I was an independent adult living in the big city and I had a dream job at an amazing, world renown company.

Except it was shit.

If I thought my Catholic boarding school for rich kids had bullies, that was nothing compared to the people who worked in the fashion industry. Every single person around me was vain, and they'd all gone to the same school where someone taught them how to make the same sneer when I was around. As soon as I stepped into the building, I got the sneer from the receptionist and she must have passed the memo along. No one respected me, even when I came up with cool designs that fit within the company's portfolio. Even when I had innovative ideas.

The problem was, while I had the preferred height and skin color for anyone in association with fashion, I certainly didn't have the build for it. And more people than I could count with fingers from both hands and all my toes made sure to let me know that my weight and frame were a problem I had best fix if I wanted a future there.

As if the way a person was made was a problem.

People weren't clothes. We couldn't get snipped and sown back into a new, perfect shape. We weren't supposed to be a one size fits all.

I felt horrible. I cried so much that my three roommates didn't want to hang out with me. They just thought I was such a drag and ignored me altogether.

So in a city as big as NYC was, I was completely alone.

Except for my boss, whom I had greatly admired since a childhood surrounded by expensive and exclusive items that belonged to my mother. He was everything I thought a designer should be. Avant-garde, bold, cultured. When he stepped into a room, we all stood to attention, eager to hear what he was going to say. He had a unique eye for color, playing with complementaries and contrasts in ways I'd never imagined could work. But his most attuned sense was touch. Every fabric, every trim, every embroidered detail had to feel just perfect. It was like watching a fashion magician work.

He was the one who made me a full time employee, despite the fact that I hated the place. The biggest vote of confidence I ever got from a stranger was from him. The only person in the building who actively asked for my opinion—and implemented my good ideas—was him.

Until one day, after I came up with a clever way to put together a gown for the upcoming collection, when he offhandedly said, "I knew the daughter of Grace Winterbourne would be a great addition to the team."

I looked up from my work, stupefied out of my mind, and asked, "You know my mother?"

"Oh, yes. Very well." The way he smiled told me he knew her intimately. And then he gave me a look. Or I should say, The Look. The one that tried to measure if I lived up to my mother's talents. And suddenly he was a lot closer to me as he said, "You may not look that much like her, but you definitely do have her eye, don't you? Do you find me attractive as well?"

I remembered having the wits to murmur something like oh, look at the time, my boyfriend is waiting for me. But after that the relationship changed. We both avoided each other like the plague, and with that I lost the only person who made being there worth a damn. I started looking for new jobs anywhere I could find them within a distance I could easily move to.

The way I found Tropicana was through Poonam. She was already living in Miami and she RSVP'ed on Facebook to attend the new collection launch of a local fashion brand. I asked her about it, which actually was how we reconnected. She told me she had no idea what it even was, but one of her work friends was the significant other of someone who worked at Tropicana, and so she got invited to the event to bulk up the public. I didn't have anything to lose, so I applied. And I got in. And again, for the first couple of years it was amazing, until Jean Paul arrived.

And like an idiot, I'd let him kick me out without putting up a fight.

Well, fuck that. I deserved that job and I loved Tropicana and what it stood for. We designed clothes for everybody, big, small, slim, fat, petite, disabled, abled. It was a place where, with only one notable exception, I felt accepted and embraced, where my ideas were heard and where I felt I could make an impact to the local community.

And so that morning as I painted a delicate copper eyeliner on my lids, I prayed that I wasn't too late. One week wasn't too terrible. If I convinced them to bring me back on board, I could write it off as vacation. A horrible one, but it'd be alright if I could turn this around.

That was step one of the plan Vera helped me put together over the weekend. The second one was potentially going to be even harder, and that was strongly related to Miguel.

But like I was saying, as I was preparing for battle, putting on my best armor, the universe was conspiring in my favor. I'd already bid my farewell to Poonam and Vera, who was crashing with us for a couple of days more, when I got a call from Angela.

"Hello?" I picked up right away.

She answered as though nothing had changed at all. "Oh, hey, Addy! I'm at the office and would love to talk with you, if you're not busy today."

"Ah, uh," I fumbled but eventually did say, "I was on my way there."

I wanted to race over, which made it the perfect opportunity to follow the speed limit to a T. Even though I was going to do my very best to get my job back, if this didn't work the last thing I needed was a speeding ticket. But once I parked my Jeep in the office lot, I ran to the elevators like I was being chased by the cops. This was way better than having to grovel to Miguel for both my job and his heart. If I could grovel only to Angela about work, that should make things easier with Miguel as well, right?

I got out of the elevator and remembered the small detail that I didn't have my entry badge anymore, which required an awkward phone call back to Angela. She bailed me and escorted me into the office herself. This of course made every eye follow us. I did catch Marisol giving me two enthusiastic thumbs up, which I wondered if I could take as a good sign.

Angela directed me to her old office, where Miguel usually worked now, except he wasn't around. I bit my tongue to refrain myself from asking about him, since that would probably not help my case.

"Please take a seat," she said, motioning to the sofa in the corner.

As I sat I told her, "First of all, thank you so much for the invitation this morning. Believe it or not, I was already planning on dropping by today to see if I could catch a word with you or, um, or Miguel."

That was a bit of a weak delivery at the end there, but all she did was nod. She was sitting on the single armchair, legs crossed and hands delicately folded on her lap. As though we were taking the tea together.

"I see. It's just going to be me today, as I'm afraid he's occupied at the moment."

I plastered on a smile.

"Great," I said with a bit too much chirp. "Um, listen. I've been thinking about what happened a lot, and I'd like a chance to explain myself."

She smiled. "Good, I was thinking just the same."

I hoped that was a good thing, so I launched on a tale for the ages. Sans the racy parts. I told her Miguel and I went back, way back to high school, then college and that we'd briefly reconnected before he started over at Tropicana. Except we both hadn't known we'd be coworkers at the time, because we were too busy sucking faces... but small details.

"Why didn't you both say so?" she asked. "It would've been no big deal saying you knew each other."

I opened and closed my mouth, thinking about how to say this while still keeping it PG.

In the end, I went for the killing point right away and said, "The truth is that I was afraid people would think that having some sort of connection to the new owner gave me an advantage."

"But Addy, no one would've thought that," she shocked me by saying. Then even more as she extended her hand to grab mine. "You're already leaps and bounds a much better fashion visionary than anyone else in this company. I don't even know why you've stayed with us as long as you have."

My jaw was completely dropped.

"The reason I called you this morning is because Miguel told me about the events that occurred last week. I was still sunbathing when he called, actually." She sat back and sighed, as though it had pained her greatly to have to cut her vacation short. "We had a bit of a tough chat about it. At first I couldn't believe Jean Paul would do something like that, but I checked my emails and read what he sent. What an ugly ordeal."

Color me confused. What was she saying here?

"Addy," Angela said, reading my expression for what it was. She spoke slower. "There is nothing in Tropicana's regulations forbidding intracompany relationships. However, we do have a statute about privacy. Which Miguel so kindly brought up to my attention by mentioning that he really wanted to avoid involving his lawyers against one of our very own employees."

I shook my head. "Wait, what does that mean?"

"It means that after sorting a few things out with legal over the course of last week, we have decided to let Jean Paul go and reinstate you." She paused. "If you would have us, that is."

It was too easy, I thought. I hadn't even had to grovel, and I'd been fully prepared for it. I couldn't believe my luck.

"Is there a catch?" I asked.

Angela shrugged and said, "Well, it's either that and we keep you under our contract, or you're a free agent. Which also means free to sue Jean Paul and us."

The bright smile she sent me didn't at all match the mood of someone who worried about a lawsuit. Maybe it was because even if she lost it, she wouldn't have to part with a substantial portion of her fortune. Especially since she was now the minority owner. The most affected one would be Miguel, and she probably guessed I'd never do that to him.

In other words, she had me by the balls and that was exactly where I wanted to be, anyway.

A crazy idea occurred to me then.

"Deal, as long as I get Jean Paul's job."

"I'm so sorry, my dear." Angela's shoulders sagged and I was sure she would turn me down. Instead she said, "Miguel was right, that job should've been yours to begin with."

"Huh?"

Her lips tightened into a thin smile. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm so shocked about his behavior. I've known Jean Paul since we were children in the Philippines and he's had such a rough life. I was hoping to give him a hand when I offered him the position of lead designer, but that wasn't a smart move from me, was it?"

"Uh, I guess not."

She stood up and offered her hand out to me, and I shook it.

"I'm happy we have been able to reach this arrangement. I really apologize that it took something so embarrassing to make me realize that we couldn't lose you."

I smiled a little. "I appreciate it."

"We'll draft a new contract for you this week and send it over for your perusal. And yes," she added, "This means you also can continue dating Miguel. If you can catch him, that is."

I jumped as if I'd been burned. "What do you mean?"

Angela shook her head. "I'm afraid he's taken paid time off and even I couldn't convince him to reveal his whereabouts. I hope you succeed in bringing him back to us, but no pressure."

Of course, when she said that it meant exactly the opposite.

Yes, I had wanted my job back, but that was the easiest wish. The other one was going to prove harder, but I had no doubts anymore and contrary to what my father thought of me all those years back, I wasn't like my mother who waited for what she wanted to be delivered to her. I was a go-getter, and I was going to go wherever he was to get Miguel back. Even if I didn't know where that was quite yet.