Page 5 of Fake Lemons Love and Luxury

WREN

I adjust my blazer for the fifth time, inhaling as I make my way to the conference room.

My emotions are stretched taut since discovering the package at midnight.

It worries me that the threats have reached my home.

Now, my home isn’t safe and neither is my son.

How can I protect a multi-million company when I can't even protect my home?

I feel even more pathetic running to call Sean. Maybe it was fear that made me call him or it was my loneliness and fatigue. Either way, it was weak and pathetic. I clench my fists at my sides.

The package from the previous night contained nothing but my name on it.

Bizarre. Sean had insisted on staying until daybreak.

I find it even more uncomfortable that it was only when he arrived that I was able to catch some sleep.

I don’t want to think too much about what that meant. If it meant anything at all.

I reach the conference room and my pulse races, my thoughts shifting to the reality of my shaky empire. Behind these doors sit five investors. Men and women who control millions of potential development dollars that could either accelerate or sink Lemon LLC's next phase.

“You've got this.” I whisper the same words I used to tell myself before stepping onto set.

The room falls silent as I enter. Ten pairs of eyes follow me to the front of the room.

Suits, pens, coffee cups untouched. I spot Richard Barnes, our earliest angel investor, his poker face in place.

Next to him sits Eliza Chen, venture capitalist extraordinaire, who once called me “the most strategic former actress” she'd ever met. Now, her smile is tight, uncertain.

Talia, Raj, Ava Douglass—the chief marketing officer of Lemon LLC—Simone Brooks—head of product development—and Henry Cho, head of finance, are also gathered on the long marble table.

“Thank you all for coming.” My voice doesn't waver. Years of script readings and auditions trained me well for moments like this. Even though, inside, I'm shaking.

“I know there have been concerns about our new serum launch in the midst of this drama. But be rest assured that the launch will happen as scheduled.”

One of the investors, a savvy and blunt woman called Siobhan Yutes, crosses her arm. “That’s bold. But the timing with everything going on, I don’t know if it’s smart.”

“I agree with Mrs. Yutes. I’m concerned that the noise will bury the product. The noise around Lemon right now is pretty loud.”

I smile. Controlled. Shoulders straight, chin high.

“Please, be rest assured that this is under control and by launch date, this false narrative wouldn’t even cross anyone’s mind.

Before then, it’s pertinent that Lemon LLC maintains a united and coordinated front.

We’re unbothered by noise from hungry influencers who are asking to be sued to penury. Because it’s just that—noise.”

The investors shift in their seats, and I smile again.

I click to the first slide of my presentation. Our logo of a bright, stylized lemon appears on screen.

“Lemon LLC has always been about transformation. Taking something tart and creating something beautiful.” I click to the next slide. “Today I'm sharing our next evolution: the Lemon Diagnostics App.”

For twenty minutes, I outline our vision: an AI-driven skin analysis app that creates personalized skincare regimens using our products. I showcase mock-ups, preliminary coding, and market research. The same passion that built this company from nothing flows through me.

“Think about it. Product scanning, tailored routines, live sessions with dermatologists. This is innovation in the palm of your hand.”

No one speaks. The room hums with silence.

“Questions?” I ask at the end, setting down my presentation remote.

Richard leans forward. “Impressive technology, Wren. But I'm still concerned about timing. This scandal?—”

“Is baseless and will blow over.” I meet his gaze steadily. “As I earlier explained, the?—”

“The numbers suggest otherwise.” Eliza taps her tablet. “Your social engagement is down twenty percent, and retailers are getting nervous. Have you seen the videos of customers throwing away their products in favour of the new Nova Grey formula?”

I feel my jaw tighten. “Short-term fluctuations in a growing market.”

“We've worked in beauty long enough to know how fickle consumers can be.” This from Louis Laurent, newer money but old fashion industry connections. “One day you're the darling, next day you're toxic. And right now, Lemon’s a very toxic brand to support.”

“I'm not some flash-in-the-pan influencer brand.” My voice hardens despite my efforts. “Lemon LLC has five years of consistent growth and innovation.”

“And a founder who’s being called a thief on every social platform right now.

” Louis raises an eyebrow. “You’re being accused of stealing the idea of this company from a small creator who has been struggling to pay her bills while you lounge in luxury and profit from her creative endeavour.

I’m sure you’re very aware of how this narrative appears in public. ”

Richard sighs. “I believe in you, Wren. But I'm pulling back until this resolves. Too much uncertainty.”

My stomach drops, but I maintain my expression. “I understand your position.”

He stands. Just like that. The others shift in their chairs.

“The rest of us aren't pulling out,” Eliza clarifies. “But we need to see this situation contained before increasing our investment.”

I nod, closing my laptop with steady hands even as my insides crumble. “I appreciate your candor.”

“So basically, they're fair-weather friends.” Raj paces the conference room, his hands gesticulating. “One hint of scandal and they scatter.”

“Not scattered. Just... hesitating.” I massage my temples.

Talia bites into an apple like she’s imagining it’s someone’s face. “I’ll say it. This is insane. Expected but still insane.”

Henry examines his notes from the meeting. “Richard pulling out is concerning. He's usually our canary in the coal mine.”

“We don't need him.” Raj stops pacing. “The app development will be a success. He knows this.”

“He knows that but even he recognizes that public trust matters. If we launch the new serum in this state, I can't even begin to imagine the backlash.” Talia shakes her head. “Wren, we need to win back the public. That’s the way we can scale through this. They need to know the truth.”

“They will. Sean’s investigating.”

The room falls silent for a moment.

“We need the marketing budget Richard’s investment would have covered. Henry and Ava, please provide it as soon as possible.” I stand, walking to the window overlooking the city. “And the confidence his backing signals to others.”

Ava nods, typing into her tablet. “On it.”

“We pivot.” Talia's voice is firm. “Focus on retention of existing customers. Double down on loyalty.”

“While watching our growth projections tank?” Simone’s voice cracks.

“While weathering the storm.” I turn back to face them. “This will pass.”

“Will it?” Ava sets her tablet down. “Every day this continues, we lose ground. The launch is in six weeks.”

“I know our timeline.” My voice is curt from controlled anger.

The room falls silent. I never lose my cool—not in board meetings, not with investors, not ever. I close my eyes, gathering myself.

“I'm sorry. That was?—”

My phone vibrates on the desk. Eric's school flashes on the screen. Unexpected calls from his school never mean anything good.

“Ms. Sinclair? This is Principal Martinez from Westlake Academy.”

“Is Eric okay?” My heart pounds.

“He's fine, but... there's been an incident. Someone delivered a package to the front office for Eric. It contained…”

I close my eyes, my fear transforming into fury.

“Let me guess. Lemons?”

“Well yes, rotting lemons and a note. Security has it now, but I think you should come.”

The room spins and I clench the desk to retain control. “I'll be right there.”

I end the call, my hand shaking.

“Wren?” Talia steps toward me.

“They sent something to Eric's school.” My voice sounds distant to my own ears. “Lemons. They targeted my son.”

Raj's face drains of color, letting out a string of expletives. “Holy?—”

“Call Sean.” Talia grabs my purse, handing it to me. “Now.”

I dial his number, fighting panic. He answers on the first ring.

“I'm already in the lobby.” His voice is steady, grounding. “Jen called me.”

Of course she did. Jen's on the emergency contact list for Eric.

“They sent something to his school, Sean.” The professional mask slips and I fight hot tears that sprang to my eyes. “My baby…”

“I'll have you there in ten minutes. Meet me out front.”

I grab my things, barely registering my team’s assurances about handling things here. The elevator ride feels endless. When the doors open to the lobby, Sean is already waiting. A figure solid, imposing and ready.

“My car's out front.” He guides me with a hand at my lower back. “Security's been notified. They're keeping Eric in the office.”

“How did they know where he goes to school? How did they—” My voice breaks.

Sean's eyes meet mine, blue and intense. “That's what I'm going to find out.”

Outside, cameras flash as we emerge. Paparazzi crowd the entrance, shouting questions.

“Wren! Are you losing investors?”

“Is it true you stole the idea?”

“What do you have to say about Camille Ross’s accusations?”

Sean pulls me closer, shielding me as we push through to his SUV. Once inside, he guns the engine, leaving the vultures behind.

“Breathe, Wren.” His hand covers mine. “Eric is safe. I won't let anything happen to either of you.”

I nod, throat tight with unshed tears. My phone chimes with a text notification. Unknown number.

A good mother would protect her son better. Tick tock, lemon drop.

I show Sean the screen, my hand trembling.

His jaw tightens, eyes darkening as he reads. “Pack your bags when we get Eric. You're both staying at my place now. Your place’s trailed with paparazzi after the news of the investors’ meeting got out. This isn't a request.”

For the first time in my adult life, I don't argue about being told what to do. Because as the school comes into view, one thought overrides everything else: whoever is behind this has just made their biggest mistake.

They came after my son.

And there is nothing in this world I won't do to protect him.