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“I know. I just need them to give me some lessons at Petty University. We’ll take their advice and execute without anyone’s help. It will be the greatest comeback story in fashion history—the things those who come after us will talk about.”
She nods. “Okay. I’m on board. If you have hope, I have hope. Don’t forget, we have to finalize the fall line very soon. I’ll continue forward with the design team. Business as usual?”
I lower my voice. “We have to ensure our upcoming designs don’t get leaked before we announce them. If Josh doesn’t know what we’re doing, we can regain our share of the market he temporarily stole.”
“It’s not our concept artists. I can promise you that,” Harper insists. “They’re pissed. No one wants to be plagiarized like that. Lustre doesn’t have a creative bone in its body. He continuously changes their release dates to match ours, as if no one notices. Everyone does. At first, it was cute; now, it’s just pathetic, desperate behavior. I’m so happy you’re not with him anymore.”
“And everyone wonders why I have trust issues,” I say with a huff. “Going forward, keep everything locked tight. Nothing regarding the line should be discussed over email or by messenger, only in the drawing rooms. I want fake concepts created, something we’d never manufacture. Final drawings and approved concept styles will only be seen by us. Me and you only. No more storing things on the cloud. Communication gets locked down immediately.”
“Great. You’re mega paranoid,” she says.
“No. I’m protecting us. It’s not a virus, Harp. Our leaks are internal. I want an entire line of fake designs created, ones that are so awful that Josh’s team won’t touch them. Have marketing create promotional material with specific color palettes for our real designs, but give them nothing else.”
She grins wide. “Do you think this will work?”
“It’s worth a shot. Banks may be smart, but he’s dealing with a literal man-child who doesn’t know shit about fashion. My mothermodeled when she was pregnant with me and I was born to do this. This is our world, not theirs. He’s been floating from our designs for nearly a year. I’m fucking done and fed up with it. We tighten it up, starting today. And if I ever find out who’s responsible for this, I will fire them myself without regret.”
“Okay, I can handle that,” Harper says. “And you thought you needed lessons on how to be petty.”
I move past her. “Weston is a thousand times worse than me. And Easton makes him look soft.”
She smiles, and it’s the first time I’ve seen her do that since this started nearly two weeks ago.
“You know, I really didn’t think Banks would work with Josh. You know the old saying,the enemy of my enemy is my friend? You’re now their common denominator.”
I give her a small smile, and she follows me out of my office.
“I won’t go down without a fight. We’ve worked too hard over the past decade to let two assholes take this from us. Pity Banks inserted himself, but he’s just a distraction. Our real issue is with Lustre. We control what we can.”
“I agree,” she says as I step onto the elevator.
The doors close, and a few angry tears spill from my eyes. I quickly wipe my cheeks, overly frustrated and exhausted by this. Before I reach the bottom floor, my face returns to stone. While I seem unbothered to the public, I’m livid.
As I leave my building, photographers rush me, and I try to ignore them. My eyes scan across the golden letters for Banks’s Advertising and Marketing before I slide into the waiting car.
I never could’ve predicted any of this would happen.
I just want these dark-haired billionaires to leave me the fuck alone and mind their business. Instead, they’re forcing me into a competition I never wanted to join.
As soon asI enter the Calloway Diamonds Corporate office, I’m greeted like I’m royalty. My credentials allow me access to the top floor, where their offices are located.
Weston and Easton’s secretary tries to stop me, but I enter Easton’s office without pausing.
As soon as I walk in, I realize they’re in a meeting.
“Billie?” Weston asks, his jaw clenched. “We’re not finished. Ten minutes.”
“Apologies,” I say, moving back to the waiting room.
Their executive assistant shakes her head. “They’re going to be pissed at me now. Thanks a lot.”
“I’ll make sure you don’t get reprimanded. It’s an emergency. Weston will understand,” I explain.
Right on time, the men in suits exit the office, and I stroll in.
Easton stands with his arms crossed over his broad chest, and he glares at me. “What the fuck, Billie? You don’t just barge into someone’s office like that.”
“What’s going on?” Weston asks.