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Anyway, if you see me around, remember no one is supposed to know we’re together. HUGE conflict of interest. Especially now.
Just want this day to be over so we can be together. It’s been a total mess.
Also, Lena is fucking insane. Just wanted to clarify that for the record.
Also, also, I really miss you
Also, also, also, I would very much like a repeat of this morning for when you come home tonight, but maybe after a hot shower and a cuddle sesh because today has been a nightmare
We’re askedto take a seat in the office reception area while we wait for the team. In the meantime, I zone out, searching through my socials for my favorite cookie content creators (yes, it’s definitely a thing, no matter what Will says). Watching the way the artists flood their designs with more icing, the way their crisp lines delineate whatever image they’re trying to recreate, usually soothes me. But I’m worn down and wound tight and no amount of decorated sugar cookies is going to change that. All I keep telling myself is that, no matter what, at the end of the day, I’ll have Ginger, Will, and a comfortable bed—and that’s all I need.
And snacks. I’ll definitely need snacks after this.
* * *
“Iris will see you now,”the woman at the front desk says before leading us to an empty conference room. “Wait here.”
Once she’s left us alone in the room, Lena hisses at me to hand her the folders we prepared for this impromptu meeting. Plain cream folders filled with delivery schedules, product line sheets, cost breakdowns, and some additional info Lena slipped into each one before we left. Info she’s counting on to help us keep Stevenson on as a client while completely avoiding a lawsuit, she said. Lena hasn’t let me in on her plan, but she seems to be channeling all the confidence of a mediocre white man, and we all know how things end up working out for them most of the time.
(They turn out well, in case you weren’t clued in.)
When the Stevenson team finally arrives, I stand there, back ramrod straight, as we watch person after person take a seat with stern expressions on their faces. The last one in, of course, is Iris, Stevenson’s Chief Merchandising Officer.
The room goes quiet, an eerie blanket of tension falling over us. Suddenly, I begin to wonder what kind of dark magic Lena has up her sleeve that she thinks we can get by unscathed.
Iris introduces everyone on the team to us. At first, I find the move quite polite and almost welcoming, despite her cold glare. But when I realize she’s brought on one person from each department—threefrom Stevenson’s in-house legal council—I realize this is far from civil. She pulled in all her best generals, ready to tell us how we messed everything up. Ready to tell us how they’re going to messusup.
Will isn’t here to represent the finance department, but it makes sense—this is an upper management only meeting, and he was supposed to put in his notice today. There’s no reason why they would call him in, is there?
Part of me is relieved—I won’t have to pretend I’m not in love with the man across the table while my guard is down. It’s already so hard when we’re alone together. Another part of me is extremely disappointed, wanting instead to have had him here in the same room as me. I know his presence alone would’ve helped in this stressful moment.
“Lena, is it?” Iris asks.
Lena flinches as she realizes that her plan to make herself ubiquitous in all Sartoria-Stevenson interactions did not work. It’s clear Iris barely knows her name. But still, Lena carries on with the same confidence she had when she first walked into this room, snub forgotten.
“Yes, Iris,” she continues with a tone of familiarity, an air of confidence I’ve never seen on anyone before—definitely not in someone on the precipice of losing their job. “I know there’s been a slight misunderstanding between Sartoria & Co. and Stevenson due to a minor miscommunication, but I believe we can solve this issue.”
Iris scoffs and shakes her head. “A minor miscommunication? Is that what you call it?”
Lena shrugs, unbothered. “No reason to give it more importance than it deserves. Not when the solution is clear.”
“And what solution is that, exactly?” she asks with a raised, perfectly filled in brow.
Lena smiles broadly. “Simple. You pay the fine. You pay the difference in pricing. And Sartoria keeps your contract as is for this season.”
The Stevenson team bursts into laughter while my jaw drops.
“Is she for real? Who is this woman?” one of the lawyers asks.
“You must be out of your goddamn mind if you think we’re going to do that. And who even are you again? Why isn’t Jenna here? More importantly, why isn’t Sascha here? She’s your CEO, and she should be solving this for us.”
“I wasn’t done just yet.” Lena gets to her feet and puts her hands on the conference room table, leaning over it, staring right at Iris as she does. “See, the thing is, Iris, Sascha isn’t my CEO. I don’t work for Sartoria anymore.”
I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth. “What?” I whisper, but Lena ignores me.
“I’ve started my own environmentally conscious private label—The Green Tailor. And I’m here to show you that you need to dump Sartoria and come with me.”
I blink up at her from my seat, awestruck.What is happening today?“This is coconuts!” I whisper-yell.
