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“I’m here… I’m here.” Emerson runs through the door, closing it behind her. She takes a moment to catch her breath, saying hello to everyone. As she sits, I examine her beautiful blouse. It’s an off-the-shoulder style and one she always pulls off very nicely. Emerson has gorgeous shoulders if that’s such a thing. They’re tanned, though she admits it’s spray, and she’s incredibly fit. The shade of light blue suits her light-colored hair that’s left loose today. Sometimes, the tone of her hair appears blonde, and other times, like now, it looks silver.
Nevertheless, Emerson’s very attractive, and her sitting beside me has me questioning my confidence, especially when she’s Wesley’s ex-fiancée. I mean, he wanted to marry her. That has to count for something, and they had this whole life planned out together.
“Okay, Charlie, give us the lowdown, please.”
“Right. So there’s a company in Greece, a rather large corporation, selling counterfeit designs of your latest line.”
“But how? We bought the patent rights to that dry-fit fabric?” Emerson questions, annoyed. “It’s illegal to reproduce, or for our manufacturer to be supplying this to anyone else—”
“We paid top dollar for these rights. Who are these people?” Wesley interrupts. “What kind of loss are we talking here?”
Charlie frowns, pushing a paper toward Wesley and Emerson. “I’m afraid we’re talking around two million.”
“Two. Million. Dollars!” Wesley yells, agitated. “How the fuck was this not picked up earlier?”
Emerson buries her head in her hands. “The finance department was reporting losses. We just narrowed it down to slow markets in Europe, and with the political changes being their focus.”
“You were reporting losses but didn’t bother to tell me?” Wesley fires back, clenching his fist that sits on the table, ready to pounce at any moment. The veins in his neck stand out—a trait I notice each time he reacts this way in my presence.
“Oh, please,” Emerson argues with a taunting laugh. “You don’t care what goes on. Why the sudden interest in holding onto this venture? When we were together, you didn’t give a goddamn shit what I did. If it made you look good, that’s all you damn well cared about.”
“And if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be this successful. This brand took off because our name was worth something. You were the one who decided to end that.”
“Because you were a cheating scumbag,” Emerson shouts back, much to my shock.
“Really?” Wesley deadpans. “So how is Carrington? I hear the Brazilian ladies are loving him being in Brazil without you.”
Emerson’s skin turns bright red, but her lips are stark white.
Charlie shrugs at me, half-heartedly, before putting a stop to this madness. “We’re not here to discuss your past or any personal matters. So please, for the sake of Milana and me, let’s not get into it. Now, here’s what we need to do next.”
It’s clear the magnitude of the problem has kept Charlie up all night. She hands Emerson and Wesley some legal documentation, explaining to them her discussions with a close lawyer acquaintance in Europe and some laws that could potentially protect the perpetrators.
The legal talk goes on for two hours. Refreshments are brought in—the coffee, my savior as always—and I try my best to note as much as I can with Emerson talking fast and arguing back and forth with Wesley.
It becomes difficult to focus on anything besides the animosity between these two ex-lovers.
And I wonder if I’m wearing the same rose-colored glasses that Emerson once wore? If things don’t work out between Wesley and me, will I resent and hate him as much as she does?
Doubt fill my overthinking mind. I try my best to concentrate on the real issue here, but every now and then, I find myself watching the two of them and questioning everything about why we’re together.
How could he possibly be with me when he’s had her?
“Milana, did you jot that down?”
Emerson breaks my dysfunctional trance, thankfully, and brings me back to the reason why we’re all here.
This lawsuit means I will be working nonstop, retrieving necessary documents for the court case, working with Emerson on fast-tracking the new line and making sure her schedule is freed up to focus only on this.
Charlie makes it clear that Wesley and Emerson need to unite to build the brand and make it stronger. Sonia, the wicked publicist from the west, is placed on a conference call and lists all the events she wants the two of them to attend.
“No,” Emerson states, quick to shut her down. “I don’t see why we need to attend anything together.”
“Emerson, sweetheart, this brand needs to show a united front. Now isn’t the time for Wesley to be a silent partner. Okay, look… maybe the red-carpet stuff can be just you. But if I can get a slot to the business convention we discussed a few weeks back, the both of you will need to present.”
Lifting my eyes, trying not to draw attention to my gaze, my regard wanders from Charlie to Wesley. In front of him sits an empty coffee cup and his cell. I only notice now that it begins to light up with text after text popping up on his screen. He glances down, scanning the messages before raising his eyes back to look at Emerson, not me.
My stare moves quickly back to my notepad, the same time my stomach begins to harden, followed by a wave of nausea.
