Nicole Doshi And Gia Dibella -

Nicole stared at the tea. Then she stared at Gia, who was across the room, tongue poking out of her mouth as she airbrushed a flame onto a high-top sneaker. Gia didn’t look up, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

Nicole looked back at the shark mug. Silence is the real scare. nicole doshi and gia dibella

“Yeah?”

The shared workspace on Melrose Avenue was called “The Annex,” and it was a temple of quiet ambition. Nicole Doshi and Gia Dibella were its two high priestesses, though they worshipped at very different altars. Nicole stared at the tea

Nicole should have felt patronized. She was a professional. She didn’t need tea therapy. Instead, she took a sip. It was, infuriatingly, the perfect temperature. Nicole looked back at the shark mug

“The tea,” Nicole said.

Gia’s desk, ten feet away, was a riot of color: a pink iMac, a framed photo of her rescue greyhound, and a half-finished macrame plant holder dangling from a lamp arm. She owned Dibella Designs , a small studio that hand-painted custom sneakers for athletes and influencers. She believed in intuition. Intuition was a muscle you had to stretch. And she definitely left dirty coffee mugs in the sink.