Chapter 34
Aurora’s POV
“I’m sorry. Any moonstone ring we had, we’ve sold long ago. Moonstone items are the fastest selling pieces,” the man at the pawn shop says with a slight frown. Glancing down at the text my mom sent after I left the hospital, I show it to the man.
“She said it has wolf etchings in the band and instead of the usual blueish tone to the stone, it’s more of a purple. Does that ring a bell?” I ask, hoping something will click in his mind. He pauses for a moment to think, then reaches beneath the counter.
“I have had several pieces like how you describe, but in the last ten years…” he flips through the book before stopping on a page and humming, “Yes. I sold some moonstone jewelry a few years ago to several buyers. I don’t usually give out people’s information, but since it’s been so long, I’ll make an exception this once.”
“Thank you, sir.” I watch as he writes down several names and phone numbers, giving me the first real leads that I can follow.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for, young lady,” the man calls as I leave the store. Me too because if these leads don’t pan out, I’m not sure what my next steps will be.
Today has been strange, and it’s not even lunchtime yet. I hadn’t slept well last night, tossing and turning while thinking about contacting the jewelry buyers. Now, whispers follow me down the hall.
However, these whispers are different from before. Compliments and well wishes greet me instead of the foul rumors from before. I’m not sure what changed or what is going on, but I feel more at ease with the knowledge that my coworkers aren’t out to get me anymore.
I finish reheating my tea and feel eyes on my back, making me turn. Jackson stands outside the doorway of the staff room, watching- more like glaring at- me.
“You’re needed in Alpha Thorne’s office,” he finally says after a minute. I’m confused, but I still follow him. Glancing at my phone, I note the time and realize that Thorne shouldn’t be out of his meeting yet. Had something happened to make him return early?
Mentally, I run through multiple scenarios, only coming up with one that would make him call me to his office after returning from a possibly failed meeting.
I made another mistake.
I don’t remember messing anything up with the files he took, and Thorne never said anything so…
“Ivy?”
When I enter his office, Thorne is nowhere in sight. Ivy sits in his chair, filing her nails like she’s the boss and has every right to take over Thorne’s office. Her lax attitude grates on my nerves.
“Since you are Thorne’s assistant, you are basically the assistant to the Alpha family,” Ivy speaks, catching me off guard. What is she talking about? “Jackson and I are in need of assistance today while we complete some wedding preparations, and you are going to help us. In fact, you’re going to help anytime I need the assistance.”
“But I—”
“Ah, ah,” she tisks, lifting a hand and cutting me off. “Since you’re still in a probationary period, your willingness to comply and help will be part of your official evaluation.”
Ivy’s high and mighty attitude and Jackson’s smirk tell me they’re doing this on purpose, and I know that I can’t refuse. I don’t know what Thorne would think about this, but I don’t want to stir the water and cause problems.
So, I go with them. Ivy prattles on about how exciting it is to get married and plan a wedding while Jackson agrees with everything she says, almost without hesitation. I try to focus on driving, ignoring the two in the back seat, but soon, we reach our destination.
The woman at the front door leads us inside with a smile, “Welcome to Timeless Tiers. We have everything ready for your tasting in the blue room.”
We follow the woman to a room where multiple cakes are laid out, ready to be eaten and judged by Jackson and Ivy. Do I seriously have to stand here while they taste one… three.. six… seven different cake flavors?
They could have easily done this without me. What help am I going to be? What kind of assistance an I offer? I doubt they’re going to let me eat the cake, so it’s pointless having me here.
And I’m right. They move through each flavor, starting with traditional wedding cake flavor. It’s kind of disgusting, actually. Having to watch the two of them feed each other, giggle, and moon over each bite is not my idea of a good time. I suppose they think they’re cute, but it’s anything but that.
Revolting is a good word to describe the situation.
“Thank you so much, Tamara. Everything was delicious, and I’ll be in contact soon with our decision,” Ivy says as we leave. I try to get her to move faster, but she drags her feet, which puts us further behind than we already were.
Traffic doesn’t help either, and by the time I park the car in front of Crescent Creations, Ivy is furious.
“You should have driven faster,” Ivy hisses, shoving me aside to get inside. “We’re late because of your lousy timing.”
Me? I want to slap her. If they hadn’t taken so long and asked for extra cake flavors, we wouldn’t have been late. This is not my fault.
However, I hold my tongue and follow them inside the bridal shop. We’re greeted by excited employees, and I note that there isn’t anyone else inside, which means Ivy probably rented the place out. That only irritates me more. If she did that, then it doesn’t matter that we are late.
“I’m sparing no expense on my dress,” Ivy declares to the seamstress, who beams. “I even designed my own dress because I wanted it to be unique. Only the best for myself, of course.” She laughs arrogantly, and I roll my eyes.
“Do you have the designs with you?” The seamstress asks.
Ivy beams, “Of course.” She digs in her purse, pulls out a folder, and flips it open. I admit that I’m interested and lean in to see what she’s drawn.
“These are gorgeous,” the seamstress gushes, taking the designs. I stare at the sketchbook pages… MY sketchbook pages… as the seamstress compliments Ivy’s drawings. However, they’re not Ivy’s drawings. They’re mine.
Not only have Ivy and Jackson been using me as a chauffeur, but they have also stolen my designs. They must have done it before Jackson packed my things.
Unable to keep my anger down, and in a moment of reckless bravery, I reach forward and snatch the designs from the seamstress’s hands. She gasps and spins on me, everyone else doing the same.
“Your designs?” I growl, waving them in the air. “Ivy, these are my drawings. You don’t have the right to steal them and try to pass them off as your own.”
Ivy’s face flushes red, either from anger or embarrassment. Either way, I don’t care.
“You will not be using my designs for your wedding. I have half a mind to call your brother and let him know exactly how awful you’ve treated me today. I’m sure he’d love to know about your lies,” I tell her while tucking my designs into my own bag.
The shop ladies snicker around us as Ivy gasps, unable to speak.
“I thought so. Next time, remember that you can’t treat people like dirt,” I tell her, glaring. “Once they’ve had enough, they’ll bite back.”
“G-Get out!” Ivy screeches.
“Gladly,” I mutter. With that, I turn and leave the store, leaving Ivy with the whispering seamstresses.
