Page 88 of Crash and Burn
It wasn't like I'd expected to get rich doing this. He'd called it an internship after all, and I was grateful for the experience. And I hadn't wanted to be famous, exactly. But at the very least I'd expected to have my name attached to the work. We were designing this fashion linetogether.He'd said that multiple times. Wasn't it standard that I'd get credit for my work?
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Everyone was praising Farrow and Paige for theirforward-thinkingandeye for design.No one knew it was me behind all the work.
I'd already started thinking about my future in the industry. Being associated with a brand like theirs would have been amazing for my reputation. Other companies might have even approached me to work with them as well.
I liked working at Sin and Tonic, but my mother was right — I couldn't do it forever. And with everything going on with Grant, I had been thinking that, maybe, it was time to move on.
In the back of my mind, I'd thought this was my chance. My chance to make a mark on the world. My chance to build a real future for myself in the fashion industry.
And now all my hopes had come crashing down.
With a grim determination I went to the bathroom to try and tame my hair before I stormed out the door, a single destination in mind.
When I got to the company headquarters the receptionist looked up to greet me. She must have recognized me because her cheery smile faded. She darted her eyes around nervously.
"I'm here to see Cliff Carling," I announced.
"He's unavailable," she said quickly, "he's... uh... he's in a meeting."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Is he?" I asked.
She nodded fervently.
"Then I'll just wait in his office." With my jaw set in determination I strode past her desk and made my way to the elevator.
"I'm sorry miss, you can't—!" the receptionist stood from her desk but the elevator arrived before she could stop me.
I rode it up to Carling's floor. Nerves had me tapping my feet as I smoothed my hair down far too many times, but eventually I reached his floor. I remembered my way down the hallway. His door was open. I took in a deep breath.
I stormed into Carling's office.
"Explain yourself," I demanded.
Carling's expression was one of surprise as he looked up from reading a stack of papers. He scanned me up and down before calmly laying the papers down on the table and rising from his seat.
"Explain what?" he said easily.
"You released my designs to the media without any mention of me." I crossed my arms over my chest to hide the trembling. "Why didn't you give me any credit?"
"Credit?" Carling huffed out a laugh. "Surely you misunderstood the nature of your work."
"I don't think I did," I said tightly. "Explain."
"I'm the man behind Farrow and Paige," he explained slowly, as if speaking to a five year old. "I'm the man who built this company from nothing. I'm the one people care about."
"But I'm the one who did the work!" I cried out.
"Don't think so highly of yourself," he said dismissively. "You sketched some preliminary artwork, that's all."
"I saw the photos of the completed outfits." I dropped my arms from my chest, my hands balling into fists. "They were all my designs."
Carling waved a hand in the air.
"You should be lucky for the experience," he said. "A nobody like you getting the chance to work with someone like me? You should be thanking me."
"You stole my work!" I shouted.
