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And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. I’m pretty sure this board has never had such a packed crowd at one of their stupid meetings. It feels like the entire town came here tonight to support us, and I know it’s because Belle sent out a mass email to all of our customers, asking for their support. And support us they are. Over half of them are wearing Naughty Princess Club shirts that they must have rush ordered from the website. Two of the board members are even wearing them, which makes me smile, even though Ursula is still glaring at me as Cindy speaks.
To top it all off, Eric is here. I only know that because Belle turned around and saw him sitting in the back of the room. I refuse to turn around and search for him. I can’t look at him right now or I’ll be tempted to leap up from my seat and run back there to him. Just knowing he’s so close I could touch him but can’t is making me feel sick to my stomach.
I look away from Ursula to glance down at myself and shake my head in disgust. I’m wearing the same green-and-black dress I wore for brunch with her because I thought it would make me feel strong and powerful. I wanted Ursula to see me and remember that I wouldn’t be pushed around, and I wouldn’t back down, and yet what am I doing? I’m letting her push me around, and I’m definitely backing down by letting Cindy do all of the talking for us.
I can see it written all over Ursula’s smug face that none of this matters. She knows she has the upper hand, and she knows she has the final say about our future.
Cindy flips to a new page in the packet, instructing the board to do the same, and starts talking more about taxes, and I’m so angry right now I want to come out of my skin. Facts and figures, facts and figures . . . that’s not what this is about. This is about fighting for what we want. Fighting for what we’ve worked our asses off to achieve and not letting someone take it away from us. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t sit here and pretend like any of this is okay.
“This is bullshit,” I say loudly, interrupting Cindy.
She turns around and I give her an apologetic look. Instead of glaring at me, she smiles and gives me a nod.
“Excuse me?” Ursula asks as I stand up.
“I said, this is bullshit,” I say in a louder voice, the murmur of soft voices from the audience filling the room as I step out into the aisle and walk up to Cindy at the lectern.
“It’s about fucking time you woke up. I was putting myself to sleep,” she whispers, giving me a wink before she walks around me and takes the seat I just vacated, next to Belle.
Clearing my throat and telling the butterflies flapping around in my stomach to go the fuck away, I rest my hands on the lectern and lean towards the microphone.
“I know you don’t have any intentions of approving our license. It doesn’t matter if we got approval from the president of the United States himself, you’re still going to sit up there behind that table, acting like you’re better than us just because you don’t approve of what we’re doing,” I tell Ursula.
Ursula sighs and crosses her arms over her chest as she leans back in her chair, that stupid fucking smug expression on her face telling me I’m right.
“We started the Naughty Princess Club because we were desperate. Because we were three single women who found ourselves scraping bottom and had no clue how to survive, how to put food on the table, or how to pay our bills,” I explain, looking away from Ursula to lock eyes with each of the other board members. “We’re being unfairly judged because the president of your board is disgusted by the business we run and thinks it will bring shame to the community.”
Even though everything inside of me is screaming to tell them about how she blackmailed me, so they can see what kind of person she is, I’m not going to do that. Especially with Eric sitting in the back of the room. It’s bad enough I’m standing up to his mother in a public setting, I don’t want to embarrass him any further by exposing what kind of horrible person gave birth to him. And besides, it would be my word against hers. It’s not like I have any solid proof of her threat.
“Are you trying to tell us that a business where you take your clothes off for money is clean and wholesome?” Ursula laughs.
