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In the end, I didn’t need violence because there was nothing hiding in Lyla’s desk other than a bag of gummy bears.
She’s too smart to leave incriminating evidence where it can be pinned on her. Lyla would hide it somewhere else... where it would get someone else in trouble.
I raced upstairs, bursting into my office. It was genius. I insisted the clothes were stolen, got security looking for them, made a whole big fuss, and then when they were found stuffed under my window seat cushion, it looked like I tried to divert suspicion off myself, so no one suspected I was the thief.
She’s trying to get me out by branding me a thief. Why not? It worked the first time.
I tore my office apart looking for an overskirt, patterned tie, fitted pants—anything. They were not there.
Do I keep looking or do I stay here to make sure Lyla doesn’t double back?
“Ugh!” I hated these stupid games. Lyla had me paranoid and thinking plots were around every corner. “If you did put them here, where are they?”
Maybe they’re in the Closet on some random rack. Lyla “finds” them later and pretends to be the hero.
That was as good an idea as any. Just to be safe, I put my phone on record and hid it under some papers on my desk. If anyone came in here while I was gone, I’d know.
Beating it down to the Closet, I searched the racks up and down. I made it as far as Row G when a voice pulled me out.
“Mackenzie? Mackenzie, are you in here?”
“Zoe?”
She hung off the doorknob, bun askew and a smudge of dirt on her cheek. “You’re not going to believe this.” Zoe was near tears. “Come and see.”
“Zoe, what’s wrong?”
She ran off, leaving me to follow. I tripped in my heels trying to keep up with her speed-walk to the stairwell. We hurried down and came out on the first floor.
“It’s horrible, Mackenzie. I don’t know why someone would do this.”
“Zoe, wait. Wait—!”
Zoe shoved on the alarmed emergency exit door. It swung out without a sound, banging off the opposite wall.
“Over here.”
My surprise at the busted alarm faded quick, replaced by a dull, sludgy emotion eroding my veins.
“The alarm’s been busted for months.” Zoe sniffled. “I came down here because I thought if someone did steal the clothes, this was a good place to hide them until they left for the day. I didn’t expect to find... this.”
I approached the dumpster—a strange, emptying calm falling over me. My clothes and Zoe’s littered among the garbage bags. There was no point in fishing them out. They were all shredded to pieces.
“Why would anyone do this?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “There isn’t any sense in this, Zoe. It’s just cruel.”
“I guess we just have to start over.” She said that though tears stained her cheeks. “Fuck. It would’ve just been mine if I didn’t put your stuff for Anthony in the Closet.”
“None of this is your fault.” I stared at the ruined overskirt, picturing Lyla’s smile. “We’ll let security find and fire the person who did this. For now, we’ll do our work. When it’s time to ship, I’ll put it in the box myself.”
“Okay.” She hugged me, staining my shoulder with tears.
I understood why she was upset. What she was showing on the outside was how I felt inside. We poured every ounce of our talent, time, and creativity into this work. To have it destroyed in the one place where it should be safe—surrounded by designers—was a violation.
Lyla didn’t do this to get me fired or play some trick. She just did it to hurt me.
Zoe and I trudged inside. I found Genny in my office, tearing the place up like she had the same thought about Lyla.
“Gen, you can stop. We found the clothes.”
“Where are they?” she asked, looking around me like I had them behind my back. “You said you found them.”
“I did find them. In the trash.” I shook my head. “They’re ruined, Genny. Unsalvageable as Hollywell would say. We have to start over.”
Genevieve stood very still. “What do you mean start over?”
“Everything we had ready was destroyed. Jace just started on Liam’s so they definitely won’t be ready by Friday. Rylee’s close to done, but because she’s an intern, I suspect Hollywell is going to be extra picky with her even if I say the clothes are ready.”
“Lyla did this,” Genny hissed.
“Almost certainly. And we’ll never prove it.” I took a deep breath and let it out slow. “Okay. I’ll pull all-nighters and get an outfit ready for Monday, so it goes out Wednesday—”
“What’s the fucking point of that?” Her harshness shook me. “We can’t leave anything in the Closet if your psycho nemesis is just going to rip it up. She’s fucked up the plan, Kenzie! After this, they’ll post security down there and the rat’s not going to try!”
