Chapter 17

Renee’s POV

Anger builds up in Eric. His eyes blaze a fiery red, an indication of his pending rage.

He’s probably used to giving people this look and having them buckle at their knees, but I don’t.

I lift my chin and meet his stare, keeping my gaze cold and unbothered.

Eric’s lips curl into a smirk and then he walks away. Good thing he’s turned around so he can’t see the lift of my eyebrows.

I slip the photo of the three of us out of my purse. It’s the only tangible reminder of what could have been. Already looking at this photo feels like a distant memory. This moment will never be recreated. It can’t be. A proud Alpha like Eric can’t tolerate such humiliation and rejection. It’s truly over.

Relief washes over me, but for some reason I’m still clutching the photo to my chest.

It’s been weeks since the amusement park, though I’m beginning to wonder if it ever happened at all or if it was just some kind of fever dream.

Every day for weeks since then I’ve been looking over my shoulder at work, waiting for Eric to corner me and hound me with more questions, but I’ve hardly seen him.

Which oddly makes his absence all the more intimidating.

“Hey Dan, do you have a copy of-” I can’t even finish my question because Dans loud gasp interrupts me.

I look at him puzzled as he catches his breath. “The last fall line magazine?” I ask slowly, careful not to give him a heart attack.

Dan licks his thumb and dabs at the spot of coffee that splashed on him when he jumped back from me.

“Great, I hope this comes out.” Dan says ignoring my question. I guess I’m not the only one feeling the ominous presence of Eric everywhere. “Why? does Eric need it?” Dan asks lifting his eyes from his shirt

“No,” I say a bit confused. Dan’s really on edge. I look around the design room and it just dawns on me that the place is spotless.

Usually, the design room is strewn with fabric, sketches of half-finished art pieces littered across the floor, and scissors, pens, paint brushes, and pins spilling out of jars in the table.

If someone were to peer inside the brain of an artist, this is essentially what they’d fine. Instead, though, the room is put together and organized. I can actually seethe floor.

It suddenly clicks that the design room is functioning like this because this is how Eric prefers us. Everyone is on edge, worried that Eric is going to barge in and fire the first poor person he sets eyes on.

Dan has walked away, too preoccupied with the stain in his shirt.

I shuffle the papers in my hand and head over to my desk. I check my email to see if I’ve secured this project that I requested to have.

Lately the project manager has been denying all my requests for certain projects and I don’t know why, but I need the work. It keeps my mind off of Eric and not to mention the bonus potential with a great design helps cover Debbie’s health costs.

The computer screen refreshes and I see an email from the project manager in my inbox and I don’t even need to open the email to know my request is denied. ‘Thank you for your interest; however, we found someone in the company who’s style more closely matches the desired design for this line.’

I let out an annoyed sigh. “And Who is that?” I mutter under my breath.

I check the time. Almost lunch. Luckily, the designers have a meeting during lunch with the project manager so maybe I can ask her what’s up with all these rejections. I gather my belongings and head to the board room.

We pile inside, I don’t see the project manager yet. What’s her name? Kelly? I was hoping to catch her before the meeting started, but Eric walks into the room and everyone quickly takes their seats.

I pull out a black swivel chair seated in the middle of the long rectangle table.

Of course, two seconds later Mia pulls out the chair directly across from me. She gives me the fakest sweet smile I’ve ever seen and I refrain from rolling my eyes.

Eric clears his throat but doesn’t say anything. He sits at the head of the table and leans back, his eyes on the door. Just then, Kelly walks in. I sit up a little straighter in my seat hoping to get her attention.

She scans the room and when she sees me her eyes fall. That’s weird.

“Thank you all for coming today,” she says. “If you open the files in front of you, you’ll see some mock ups for the style that we’re hoping to launch for our winter line,” Kelly says jumping right into business.

Eric doesn’t take his eyes off of her. I would be so nervous if I were Kelly.

We all open the files and except for a few hums of appreciation everyone stays quiet. Everyone except Mia who instantly shoots her hand up. “I’ll take it,” she says. I hold back my laugh. She could never work on a line with this much grace.

The style the company is going for this winter is the complete opposite of last years ice princess line which Mia could have handled. This line is warm, soft, with a subtle boldness in pops of color. Mia is anything but subtle.

A few people clap and murmur agreements that Mia should have lead on this line. I look at Kelly who’s lips are pressed together like she’s holding back from saying anything.

Now I do laugh because I can’t believe I didn’t realize this before. Mia has been stealing all the projects that I submit a request ticket for. I don’t know how, but clearly she has something on Kelly otherwise Kelly wouldn’t be going along with this at all.

“What’s so funny?” Mia asks, her eyes darkening as she looks at me.

“Nothing, it’s just I also want to work on this line.” Mia crinkles her nose.

“I don’t think so,” Mia says as if she makes the decisions. Just as anger builds up inside me, Eric stands

from his seat. All eyes turn towards him. He went said a word this entire meeting and even now his face doesn’t give any indication as to how he’s feeling or what he’s thinking.

“You both will come up with a design and the work will speak for itself,” he says flatly. He fixes his jacket and then leaves, the door clicking shut behind him. No one says anything. Not even Mia.

I spend the next week working on the design day and night. Margaux has spent the nights because I’ve been too wrapped up in work to put Debbie to bed. I need to prove myself with this one. I need more designs to work on for the sake of Debbie’s health.

The time finally comes where Mia and I have our runway show off. The main lobby of the building has been transformed to a makeshift fashion show and I feel the energy pulsating through me.

I peek in front of the curtain and see rows of chairs filled with all my colleagues from all the various departments.

I swallow the lump in my throat. My design is good, no it’s flawless. I know this. The only problem is, where the heck is my model? I check my watch, she was supposed to be here ten minutes ago.

I’ve heard of being fashionably late before but I don’t think that really applies here.

“Nervous?” I hear Mia ask. I turn and see her peaking around a standalone clothing rack. I pull my nails out from my mouth. It’s a bad habit.

“No,” I lie. Mia smiles mischievously and I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Well, I would be if my model suddenly remembered she had a tip to Europe and wouldn’t be here tonight.” I swallow the lump in my throat.

“What?” I ask and Mia steps closer to me.

“You couldn’t beat me five years ago, and you can’t beat me now. Annie.” Stepping even closer until we’re nose to nose, Mia powers her voice. “Only my child calls Eric Daddy,” she says in a low growl.

She doesn’t have to say it. I know deep in my bones that Mia is the one who switched the genetic tests. She must’ve found out Eric was getting a paternity test and intercepted the results when she saw it came back positive.

“Five minutes ladies,” someone from the media department calls out to us. Mia takes a quick step back.

“I got a show to win,” she says. I look at the clock one last time and in a split second make a decision.

I see Mia’s model stand on the runway, the dress is cute but bland. Mia probably didn’t even put in any effort because she assumed her little scheme would work out.

I come up next to Mia’s model and I wish I could’ve snapped a picture of both their faces. If that was the only prize for this contest, I’d be satisfied. I bet Mia wasn’t expecting I’d be my own model.

I’ve never worked a run way, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous going out there, it is a bit unprofessional, but it’s better than nothing.

The music starts and I fake it until I make it. I strut down the aisle. I dare look at the faces of my

colleagues and when I do my confidence is boosted. They all look amazed. I can’t help it I smile. Until I see Eric.

He’s staring at me and I can’t read his expression, but his attention is captivated that much is clear.

Mia’s model comes out but people are still looking at me. It doesn’t take long for everyone to conclude

who the winner is. Eric comes up on stage and holds my arm in the air while the audience erupts in cheers.

Andrew, Erics beta, finds me in the crowd conversing with some colleagues who are all asking me a million questions a minute about my deaden. I never would have assumed any of them liked me or my designs that much based on how cold they’ve been towards me, but I guess publicly beating Mia was all these people needed for them to break older from Mia’s chains.

“Renee,” Andrew says silencing my co-workers. “A big client of Eric’s is here and he is inviting you both to dinner to secure a business deal.” Andrew tells me as though I don’t have a choice. I have to go.