“What outfits?” Walker and I ask, simultaneously.
“The ones from that stupid, little pet shop,” Bryce says. “Obviously.”
“Hold up a minute.” Walker stands up, looking genuinely pissed off now. He paces back and forth in his tiny cabin. “Are you telling me you sent actual outfits from Celestial Pets to our Asian manufacturers?”
“Yeah, but they were just SAMPLES.” Bryce grimaces. “I didn’t tell them to make them exactly the same. It was just … you know … a general guideline of the sort of stuff they should make. That’s how manufacturing works. You send some stuff that people like to the factory, and then your team copies it but makes it way cheaper for a higher profit margin. Do I really need to explain this to you two?”
Our father is silent, for once. I watch him sit down, head in his hands.
“How did you even get the outfits? Did you go into the shop?” I ask.
“No! My assistant bought a few. And she placed a couple online orders.” Bryce waves his hand dismissively.
“No wonder that little girl decked you. Jesus fucking Christ on a Tuesday, Bryce. That’s it. I give up,” Walker says. He wipes his hands together and raises them to indicate just how done he is.
Oliver runs over, jumps on my desk, and plops down in front of the screen, staring curiously at my father and stepbrother.
“It was an unprovoked attack!” Bryce defends.
“Nice-looking cat, Hudson.” Walker nods.
“Thanks.”
“Look, Dad, I’m coming back to our yacht tomorrow and we can talk about this, okay? Maybe it’s not exactly what you would have done, but everybody “borrows” in fashion. There’s no reason to get your knickers in a twist.”
“The hell you are coming back on my boat,” Walker bellows.
“But … all my stuff is on there.” Bryce pouts.
“I’ll leave it in a locker at the port,” he says. “And Hudson? I’ll see you at Lilly’s birthday party in two weeks?”
“Great,” I say. “Lilly will be thrilled.”
“We’ll work this out. But first, you gotta call whoever you gotta call and get all those products down. We’ll have to find a way to make it up to that girl.”
“Her name is Georgia,” I say.
“Right, Georgia,” Walker repeats. “There’s gotta be something we can do to keep her from suing us.”
“Is this all really necessary?” Bryce chimes in.
“Shut up, Bryce,” Walker says. “I’m done talking to you. In fact, I’m done talking to both of you for now. I’m just going to read my dumb book … now where is that thing?” He pulls up a copy of what appears to be Blaze Smith’sGo Your Own Wayand abruptly leaves the conversation.
“Bye, Bryce,” I say.
Following my father’s lead, I slam my computer shut.
georgia
The morning after the meeting,Kenna holds a white paper bag full of pastries in front of the door to the shop and shakes it. It’s labeled in black sharpie with the words “I’M SORRY” in all caps.
This is her version of a white flag.
“Permission to enter?”
On Saturdays, I usually like to come in early and spend some time sewing before making sure the shop is ready for the weekend. But today, I have other plans. I’m doing a full survey of all the outfits on the Farm & Holm site that are knockoffs of mine. I’ve also downloaded a boilerplate cease and desist letter.
“Fine. But that better not be an egg coffee.” I gesture at the paper cup.
