Page 170 of Terms Of Un-Endearment
Anna’s expression doesn’t match her compliment. She looks upset. “Did you send in a portfolio to Valente?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t everyone who applies for an internship?”
“Do you have it with you? Can I see it?” she asks, ignoring my question.
I open a new file and pull up my portfolio. As Anna scrolls slowly through the pictures, her face grows dark, and I wonder if I’ve done something wrong. I have no idea what it could be if I did.
At last, she looks at me and slides my iPad back to me. “They’ve done the same thing to you that they did to me.”
“Who? What are you talking about?” My eyes drop to my open portfolio, looking for what she’s seeing that I’m not.
“Valente. They’ve stolen your designs, Piper. Not your exact designs, but I’ve seen the mockups for the Fall line they plan to show in February, and now I know where they got their inspiration. The entire line is centered on Japanese boro. And this idea for a patchwork jacket…” She spins my iPad back to me and points to the design I’m proudest of. “They have a design that is almost identical, only the colors are slightly different.”
Anna lifts her eyebrows with a certainty that makes my stomach drop. My vision narrows, going black in the corners.
If what Anna says is true—and I don’t have any reason to doubt her—then the internship I thought would lead to my dreams coming true has turned into a nightmare.
As if, on top of figuring out my evil ex-stepbrother might be a nice guy who actually cares about me, I needed one more thing to turn my world upside down today.
Chapter 24
Archie
“Idon’t know how I ever shared a womb with you.” Frankie tsks as she scans my room. “It’s not just the sushi that smells in here.”
I sniff in the general direction of my armpits, in case it’s me, but all I can smell is the sack of sushi I’m holding.
Frankie holds her nose and walks around the room, gently kicking the clothes I’ve tossed to the floor out of her way.
“It’s the fish. It didn’t stink this bad yesterday, or even this morning.” I haven’t been back up here since I woke up, though. Piper must have dropped the sack in here before I came back from walking the beach.
Frankie releases her nose long enough to pick up a pair of my board shorts. “Where’s your washing basket?”
I have a vague recollection of a laundry basket in this room at some point. “Cupboard, maybe?”
Frankie picks up the other shorts and trackpants I’ve left on the floor. “You’ve been back from Fiji over a week. Why haven’t you unpacked yet?” She nods toward my half-empty suitcase.
“I have.” I point to the clothes she’s holding.
She looks down with a question on her face. “You unpacked by tossing your clothes onto the floor?”
I scratch the back of my neck, not sure I want to admit the truth, but the expression on Frankie’s face leaves no other option. “I wore them first.”
“Did you wash them after you got home?”
I shrug.
Frankie closes her eyes and inhales sharply before carrying my clothes into the walk-in closet. Seconds later, she pulls out a washing basket.
“These go in here.” She drops my clothes into the empty basket. “Because after we’ve worn clothes, we put them in this contraption…” she draws her hands open over the basket as if she’s modeling. “Specifically intended to hold dirty clothes until we’re able to wash them, which, ideally, will happen in a timely manner.”
“Oy, I get it. Pick up after myself.” The tips of my ears burn as I realize, again, that Piper’s complaints about my messes were justified.
“That’s a good starting point.” Frankie pats my shoulder like I’m a very good boy. “But today you also learn how to wash and fold your clothes. Unless you’re planning on taking back what you told Sybil this morning, your days of hired help doing your dirty work are over for a while.”
I open my mouth to protest, then realize she’s right. Even if I win the fight for this house, I’ll have to sell it, and every cent will need to go toward starting Bombora. I won’t have money for housekeepers or private planes or fancy, petrol-guzzling cars. All the privileges Piper’s pointed out to me will be gone.
“Right-o. I’ll take this to the bin…” I hold up the sack. “Then we can get started. I reckon it’s about time I learned how to take care of myself.”
