“You quit?” There’s a weird touch of panic in her voice. “But why?”
“I don’t know...” I shrug. “I’m not a good fit here. Felix has a certain vision...” I shrug again.
“Oh, but you’ll get there!” she insists. “I’ll help you.”
I want to laugh at the irony. “Help me now. Quitting is a done deal.”
And it is. My resignation letter is sitting on his desk. And I’m not about to give him two weeks’ notice. Shitty? Yes. Buthe’ll survive. Besides, I don’t need his reference; I have other plans.
I push the designs toward her.
Finally, she picks them up, her eyes scanning the pages. “These are great. I love them.”
So did half of Manhattan’s elite when they admired Janice Mark’s penthouse. Do I feel guilty about showing Elena what areessentially sketches of the apartment? Maybe I should, but I don’t.
I rise and snap my case shut. “Can I leave them with you for the weekend? I don’t want to be here when Felix gets in.” I givean exaggerated pause. “He hasn’t seen these, and I don’t want him to, okay?”
There. If she steals these designs, her fall is all on her. Somehow, I think she won’t fall far. Professional sneaks neverreally do.
She doesn’t even blink when she gives me a solemn nod, her hand already spreading over the pages. “I’ll guard them well.”
I give a nod of my own. But when she begins to pull them toward her, my hand comes down on the sketches with a slap. “Youknow what? I can’t do this. I was going to give you these, knowing they’re bad, knowing you’d take them for your own. ButI cannot walk out of here and pretend that what you did, what you’ve been doing, isn’t seriously fucked up.”
Her face pales as she gapes at me. Then she’s flushing dark red, her gaze narrowing. “This again? Jesus, Fiona, you have tostop. It’s pathetic. I didn’t copy your designs. I just did them better.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself to get through the day, Elena.” I lean forward, the urge to hit her so strong that myfingers curl into a fist. “That shit you pulled with the curtains? Pretending we’d talked about them? That’s not right. And it’s just one of many lies you’ve told. So don’t you dare act like what’s gone down is all in my head.”
“This is business. You do what you have to do to get ahead.”
“I don’t want to win that way.”
An ugly smile curls her lips. “News flash, Fi. You didn’t win.”
One punch. Surely one punch would be okay?
I keep it together by a thread. “I’m not the only one who knows.”
She flinches. “What?”
“Felix knows. He’s always known. He just doesn’t care because your mother has the contacts he needs.” I take a breath. “Whichis why I’m quitting. I can’t work for a man who has no morals, or alongside a woman who uses people as her personal creativewell.”
Elena’s hands fist as well. “I have talent—”
“That’s the tragic thing. You do. Real, honest-to-God talent. But instead of cultivating it, you waste your time stealingother people’s ideas.”
Her face scrunches up, going bright red. “I used to think you were nice. You’re nothing but a bitter bitch.”
I laugh. “If being a bitter bitch means I’m no longer your stepping stone, then I gladly accept the title.” With that, I stand.“Have a nice life, Elena.”
“You don’t know what it’s like,” she says suddenly. “The pressure. My mom. Everyone knows who she is—”
“I don’t know what that’s like?” I gape down at her. “Are you kidding? My dad was a superstar before I was even born. My momruns her own business. My sister is fast becoming a regular fixture on ESPN. Hell, I’m swimming in a pool of overachievingfamily members.”
“That’s not the same. You aren’t in those industries.” Her fist hits her chest. “I have to make my mark in this business.”
I could understand. Hell, I could almost empathize. Almost. “Our parents don’t define us, Elena. Our actions do. And yours suck.”
She goes from flushed to bone white. “Fuck you, Fiona.”