Page 106 of Crash and Burn

Grant stood from where he'd been sprawled over the floor in hopes of getting the perfect shot and dusted off his jeans.

"Are you almost finished with that?" he asked.

"Close," I replied, turning my attention back to the sewing machine. The familiar humming and vibrating sent a warm wave of satisfaction through me.

Arms wrapped around me from behind and a face buried itself in my hair. I lifted my foot from the pedal to stop feeding through the fabric.

"Giving up on Mittens?" I asked.

"There's something even more adorable I've got my eye on now," he said with a squeeze. "I love watching you work. Your nose scrunches up in this cute way of yours and you bite your lip when you get to a really tricky part."

"Have you been sneaking secret photos of me again?” I accused with a smile. "You know I'll gladly pose for you any time you want."

I wasn't keen on having my picture on display everywhere but Grant loved having photos of me for his own personal collection, so I indulged him with impromptu photoshoots sometimes.

My phone rang. My mother’s ringtone.

“I’ve got to get this,” I said anxiously before picking up the phone. “Hi Mom. What’s the news?”

“You were right,” she said promptly. “You’re not the first person that terrible man did this to. My firm tracked down two other girls in the same position as you. One of them still has a copy of the contract she signed. It turns out, it wasn’t as air-tight as that Carling fellow thought.”

My heart was in my throat.

“So that means…?” I asked.

“It means we’ve got a case,” she said. “The photos Grant took of you in the outfits have the date stamped in the file’s metadata so we can prove you had the Farrow and Paige designs before they were released to the public. And with these two other women to testify, and the shoddy contract, well…”

I could hear her satisfied smile. An elated grin spread across my face.

“That’s amazing!” I said.

Grant looked at me expectantly. I gave him a thumbs up. He beamed and gave me a squeeze.

I’d been dreading telling my mother what had happened with Carling. I knew she’d do the whole I-told-you-so routine. And she had. But she’d also immediately offered her help.

“He’ll want to settle out of court, of course,” my mom added. “He’ll offer money in exchange for your silence.”

“No,” I told her. “I don’t want his money. I want everyone to know what he did.”

“It could be a lot of money, Elizabeth,” my mom warned.

“I don’t care,” I said. “I want him to get what’s coming to him.”

“If you insist.”

She sounded just as exasperated as she usually did with me. I didn’t care. I knew what I wanted now and I wasn’t going to let anyone else’s expectations sway me.

“Thanks for all your hard work, Mom,” I told her.

“You could be doing the same thing if you just—”

“Mom.” I stated the single word firmly.

“All right, then,” she huffed. “I see you’ve made up your mind.”

“I have,” I told her.

“I’ll give you a call in a few days with another update.” She hung up.