Contractually Yours: Chapter 35

The next morning I get up early, run like always, then put on a red dress and my favorite diamonds. Sebastian watches, his concerned eyes following my every move.

“You can have Jeremiah handle this,” he says.

I curl my lashes and apply mascara. “Bianca’s my problem.” I’m surprised at how calm I sound. But it’s as though the emotional explosion last night wrung me of pain, leaving nothing but numbness. “I want to deal with her myself first.”

“You want to know why she did it.”

I pause for a moment. That wasn’t the conscious why, but I realize he’s right. I deserve to know the reason she betrayed me. “Yes.”

“You’ll never understand her. People who do things like this to their best friends don’t think or feel like we do.”

“But I’m not going to get closure if I don’t talk to her.” I run red lipstick over my mouth, then put it down on the vanity. “This is for me, so I can close this chapter.”

“She may give you a sob story to get you to forgive her.”

He believes in evening the scales. And fighting. He’d never let somebody screw with him and get away with it. He even forced his family to hand over control over their trusts.

“I won’t. I promise.” Even if Bianca has a really good reason—although I can’t imagine what that would be—we can never go back to how it used to be. She didn’t just burn that bridge. She nuked it.

“If you need anything, call me.” He regards me like a small child about to dip her toes into an adult pool for the first time.

“I’ll be fine.” I’ll have to be.

After giving Sebastian a kiss and wishing him a good day, I say good morning to James and climb into the Cullinan. I check my texts and agenda like there’s nothing wrong.

But I struggle to focus and finally put my phone down. As James drives to Peery Diamonds, I recall how shocked I was that That Stalker didn’t chase me when I was eloping. Or follow all of us to the steakhouse after the ceremony. Sebastian’s right about me not being that famous. His father is a far more significant celebrity, but he didn’t have paparazzi harassing him.

I didn’t look at all the emails and texts extracted from Bianca’s laptop and phone, but she might’ve been behind the video that made me look like a dog kicker. It was one of the worst periods of my life with so many people attacking me online. Some even cussed me out in person.

Bianca always told me it would be best to ignore them because nothing good would come of it. Lawsuits draw attention. She said that’s what my lawyers said, too. I wonder if she asked them at all.

But then she overplayed her hand. Eventually I got fed up with lawyers who always said no and hired Jeremiah Huxley myself. And Jeremiah has always contacted me directly, bypassing Bianca. She said she didn’t like going through an assistant on legal matters, in case of miscommunication or misinterpretation.

Thank God.

When I step onto my floor, Bianca’s at her desk. She’s in a pretty blue Dior dress I bought for her birthday last year. Her necklace is a stunning platinum and sapphire pendant I commissioned to celebrate our friendship when we graduated from college.

Did she feel any guilt accepting them? Or did she laugh at how stupid and gullible I was?

“Hey, good morning,” she says, flashing a smile. “You feeling better?”

No. “Much.” I force a smile. It’s amazing what humans can achieve. The air still feels like it’s full of broken glass, but I can will myself to behave like I’m just fine. “By the way, can you have security send a couple of guards up to my office? And I also need you in there, too.”

“Yeah, sure.” She gives me a quick, curious look, then picks up the phone.

Even now, she doesn’t suspect I know. The possibility has probably never entered her mind. Is she laughing inwardly?

My stomach burns. I enter my office and put my purse on the desk. I grab a bottle of icy water from the mini-fridge, twist the cap open and guzzle it down.

By the time I’ve managed to suck down about half the bottle, she walks in. “So. What’s this about?”

“Close the door and have a seat.” I gesture at the chair she likes to take.

She sits casually, crossing her legs. Her pink lips curve into a smile. All innocent. All friendly.

Why did you do it? Did you ever feel guilty? Are you sorry? Did our friendship mean anything to you?

So many questions spin around in my head, but I don’t voice any of them. I remain standing and finish the rest of the water, then drop the empty bottle into the trash bin. It makes a clattering noise.

She finally notices something’s off. “Is everything okay?”

I look down at her, my hands hanging loose by my sides. “Dex from IT and cybersecurity audited your laptop and phone.”

There’s a moment when she sits absolutely still. Only her eyes go slightly wide. Then she jumps to her feet. “What? He can’t do that!”

“Actually, he can.” I’m shocked I can speak so evenly. I thought I might lose control and start yelling at her. “You’re using a company laptop and phone.”

“So?” Half defensive. Half defiant.

“So they belong to Peery Diamonds, and Dex can review what’s on them as he sees fit. All totally legal.”

“Still!” She runs a hand through her hair. “That’s a gross violation of my privacy!”

I just look at her. Tell me you’re sorry. Give me some excuse.

“I have some personal stuff on them,” she mumbles. “I just didn’t want him to see my, you know, private photos. That’s all.”

Disappointment crushes me. But I remain standing tall. “Private meaning a little risqué?”

“Well…yeah.”

“You mean the risqué emails you sent to the Hae Min Group? Or the risqué text exchanges with That Stalker and other paparazzi? Or all the risqué photos of me you took and distributed to the tabloids?” My tone’s flat. I was worried I’d rage—cry, even—but nothing comes. It was probably good that I read what Dex sent last night. Imagine how embarrassing it would be if I burst into tears now, while Bianca glares at me like everything is my fault.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” she says finally with a small laugh. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”

Her cruel words hit me, a wave pounding against a sandcastle. My heart crumbles. I don’t know exactly what I expected, but her calling me “fucking stupid” wasn’t it. “We’re—we were—friends, Bianca.”

She rests her hands on her hips. “Oh my God. I was never your friend. I was a charity case to make you feel good about yourself. To make you feel superior! It’s disgusting how you fooled my parents. They always told me I should be grateful to you! And your mom! For what? Paying for my fucking tuition?”

I almost take a step back at the raw vitriol. Her eyes glitter with something unholy as she clenches her hands, an ugly dark flush streaking her cheeks. “I never asked you or your mom! I never wanted to go to those fancy schools with the rich kids! I never wanted to try to fit in, or be told that I was lucky to be going there, or that I should be grateful!” She shakes her fists. “I fucking hate that word! Grateful! I earned everything. I fought for everything! I despised you for paying for all those school trips and activities so you could drag me along. I never wanted to go to. Never! But everyone knew you were a loser who couldn’t make any friends. You could only buy friendship. And you continued to buy me even after I graduated from college, and I couldn’t do what I wanted! No! I had to work for you, so you could shine by using me!”

I grit my teeth at the pain. All my life, I thought she was my best friend. I asked Mom to pay for those trips and activities because Bianca’s family couldn’t afford them, and it wasn’t a big deal for mine. I never imagined she’d hate me for trying to help.

I only offered her a job at Peery Diamonds because when she graduated, the job market was awful and she couldn’t get any callbacks. “I told you that you could go elsewhere any time you wanted,” I say finally, my voice trembling.

She shakes her finger. “Oh no. You made sure I could never leave by showering me with perks.”

“I wanted to treat you well! I thought you were my friend!”

“Stop with your sanctimonious bullshit! You only gave me nice things when you wanted to be sure I’d stay loyal and be your friend.” She gestures at her chest.

“This pendant and this dress! You only gave them to me because you wanted to remind me I’m not as good as you—that I’ll never be as good as you.”

Absolutely nothing I’ve ever done for her was taken at face value—my wanting to be nice, show my appreciation and love for her. “What should I have done to make you feel respected, then, Bianca?” I ask, needing to know where I’ve gone wrong.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done! Nothing! Your very existence pisses me off. You got everything handed to you because you were born rich! If it weren’t for your inherited money, you’d be nothing because you’re such an idiot! Do you know how much I loved messing with you without your suspecting I could be behind any of it? It’s hilarious how you took everything I said as gospel. You know what? Your husband’s family never said no to you asking for Sebastian, because I didn’t even ask. I just told them you’d like to marry Preston. They were surprised—probably because they knew that Preston was a crappy choice—but they said okay. Why the hell not? They could offload him for a good price. And you didn’t suspect. You thought I asked them like you told me to and they said no. Same goes for your stupid lawyers. I never told them what you wanted, and I told you they said what you wanted was impossible.

“But you never doubted me because you’re just—that—dumb. When you hired Jeremiah Huxley behind my back, it was annoying. But all I had to do was get furious that your previous lawyers were too lazy and incompetent to do their job and fawn over what a brilliant attorney Jeremiah is, and you didn’t suspect a thing.” She smirks. “It was easier than taking candy from a baby.”

If I thought my head was like the aftermath of a nasty tornado before, now…it’s total devastation. I try to hold on to what control I can, but every hateful word out of her mouth claws at me, leaving trails of blood. “And the video of me supposedly kicking a dog… Was that you, too?”

“Well, yeah. You don’t have what it takes to abuse an animal, but it isn’t like the public knows that. Or cares. I thought it was hilarious.” She laughs.

“I cried on your shoulder.” My voice cracks.

Nasty glee twists her face. “And I let you. You know why? Because that’s what you pay me for.”

Tears spring to my eyes. How can I still have more left to shed for her?

Someone clears his throat. I blink rapidly to clear the tears. The security team I asked for is standing in the doorway. Both men look like they warm up for a workout by crushing skulls—their arms and legs bulging, chests thick underneath the black uniforms. They glare at Bianca.

“What?” she says defiantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“You’re a piece of work,” one of them mutters.

“This person doesn’t work here anymore. Please make sure to confiscate her laptop and phone and escort her out,” I say, refusing to look at her.

“You can’t take my phone!”

“It’s the company phone,” I tell her. “You have to turn it in the second you’re terminated from the company.”

“You can’t fire me!” she screams.

“I already did.” My throat feels raw. “If I speak to Jeremiah, she’ll advise me to sue you as well.”

That shuts her up. Guess she didn’t think that far ahead. “You’ll never do that! If you do, I’ll tell everyone what a shitty human being you are.”

“You mean you’ll continue with your past behavior?” I ask, pain ripping up and down my chest. I turn to security. “I think I’ll survive. Gentlemen? Please.”

“Wait!” she shouts, but the men loop their arms around hers and drag her out. She screams an endless string of cuss words, all directed at me. Everyone on the floor stares. Julio’s eyes are so wide, they seem to take up half his face.

“Julio, I’ll need you to brief me on the day’s agenda, please.”

He swallows, then blinks. “Uh. Yeah. Sure. Can you give me, like, a minute?”

“Of course. You’ll be taking over all of Bianca’s duties, auditing all the tasks she’s supposedly done and making sure they’re completed properly. You can select an assistant to help you. Oh, and you’ll be getting a raise, effective immediately.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I throw myself into my work. I need to figure out how to salvage the collaboration Bianca has damaged, and come up with a way to convince the shareholders to give me another chance at tomorrow’s meeting.

* * *

Around eleven, Julio comes in with a huge bouquet of purple freesia, white lisianthus and roses.

“This came for you.” He hands it to me.

“Thank you.” A few lavender sprigs add to the gorgeous scent. The tension headache eases, and I can breathe better.

A corner of Julio’s lips turns up. “Glad the flowers made you smile.”

Did I just smile? I guess I did. “I’m all right, Julio.”

“I just… I’m sorry about…” He jerks his thumb in the direction of Bianca’s now-empty desk.

“I know.” I keep the smile on my face. It isn’t his fault that I made a huge mistake with my friendship.

He clears his throat, then leaves.

I pluck the card buried in the large blossoms.

Been thinking about you. Hope you stay strong. Remember, you did nothing wrong.

–Sebastian

I sigh, and a gooey feeling pulses in my heart. This is sweet. I might’ve screwed up in the friendship department, but maybe I didn’t totally mess up in husband selection. Suddenly, I no longer feel so alone.

I pull out my phone.

–Me: Thank you for the flowers and making me smile. I needed that.

–Sebastian: I’m glad. Is it done?

–Me: Yeah.

–Sebastian: Wish I could’ve been there for moral support.

–Me: I’ll settle for a shoulder to lean on tonight.

–Sebastian: My shoulders are yours, anytime. By the way, do you want to go get some lunch?

–Me: Can’t.

–Sebastian: Surely you need to eat.

I laugh at him throwing my own words back at me.

–Me: Yes, but there’s too much to do. I’m working through lunch to figure out exactly what Bianca’s done to the collaboration. Karen—our COO—is having her team go through Bianca’s email to see if there are any other projects she’s sabotaged.

–Sebastian: Okay. I hope you find out exactly what she’s done and destroy her.

I go still. Although I mentioned Jeremiah and a lawsuit, I haven’t decided if I should sue Bianca. She doesn’t have enough money to pay for the damage she’s caused, and she’s obviously never going to apologize or be truly sorry for what she’s done.

Jeremiah might also advise me to avoid a lawsuit because it’ll be an expensive endeavor with very little reward at the end. And to be honest, I feel the same way. At the same time, I’m still in shock. I might develop a different perspective on the matter.

–Me: Haven’t decided yet. The whole thing with Bianca’s been such a blow. I’m still sorting through my feelings and what to do.

–Sebastian: If Jeremiah says the lawsuit’s going to cost too much, tell her to shove it. I’ll make it my wedding gift.

I laugh a little. It’s just like him to want to even the scales. But then, that was what he told me to do eleven years ago, and he hasn’t changed. The fact that he’s consistent is actually kind of soothing. I could use some consistency.

–Me: Most men give jewelry.

–Sebastian: Justice is better. But I’ll send you something pretty, too.

–Me: I was just joking! I don’t need a bracelet or anything.

–Sebastian: I was thinking about an anklet. It’d look hot on you.

Have I worn one around him before? Oh wait… I did that one time. I’m surprised he remembers.

–Sebastian: Since you have a diamond anklet, I’ll send you rubies.

–Me: Bring it home so you can put it on yourself. :wink-emoji: Anyway, I need to get back to work. See you tonight.

The buoyant feeling his flowers and texts have given me dissipates as the day goes on. Bianca’s screwups with the Hae Min Group that are documented on email are fairly straightforward to undo. The problem is the damage she’s done with phone calls, since we have no way of knowing precisely what was said. So many people’s feelings are hurt, and I don’t know how to make up for that.

I get an email from Eugene later in the day.

I heard about what happened. It’s terrible what your assistant did. However, if you’re still committed to this project, I’m willing to renew my commitment as well. I can speak to my people, and they’ll cooperate. Ms. Hong will continue to be my main point of contact. She will work directly with you until you find a replacement for Ms. Martin.

I let out a sigh of relief. He’s being more than reasonable. Ms. Hong is a great one to liaise with. She’s the most senior of the four executive assistants Eugene has. The woman isn’t exactly warm, but she’s courteous and highly efficient.

Plus, I envy his absolute confidence that a talk from him is all it will take to get his people to perform as he wishes. I’ve never been able to develop that kind of self-assurance, but then, Bianca’s been interfering since forever. For a brief moment, I wonder if I struggled to make friends because of her, too. Her resentment is old, and I doubt she held back when we were in school.

I type up a reply.

Thank you for your kind and very generous response. Please be assured that I am completely committed to the project, and look forward to working together smoothly to ensure its success going forward.

I hit send, then work with Karen to redo the timeline of the project but also to figure out what I’m going to say to the shareholders at tomorrow’s meeting.

“Honesty is going to be your best course,” Karen says. “Nobody can dispute you got screwed.”

“I know.” I hold my head between my hands. “But it also makes me look like an idiot for not realizing sooner.”

“She was very close to you.” Her tone is patient. Kind, even. “Sometimes we’re blind to our friends’ and family’s flaws. We have expectations, hopes and dreams about them, and we only see them the way we’d like them to be.”

“But all this time?”

“She’s been with you since you were a child. Of course you didn’t see it. Blame her for betraying your trust. Actually, the entire company’s trust. And remember, no one else suspected anything either.”

That’s true. “Do you think Grandfather suspected something?” He was never particularly warm to Bianca.

“I doubt it. If he’d suspected she was interfering with the company’s goals, he would’ve fired her on the spot. But what she did to sabotage the projects you spearheaded probably contributed to his reluctance to put you fully in charge of the company.”

I straighten, my eyes on hers. “I thought it was because I was a girl.” He often lamented that I was too much like my mom. Or that I was too soft.

She shrugs. “I’m a woman, and he appointed me as his COO.”

I blink slowly. I never considered that.

“He had some really old-fashioned ideas, but he also loved growing this company. He wasn’t going to give up on a talented employee because of gender. Trust me, your performance mattered more. The fiasco with the Milan project three years ago was the last straw.”

I wince. That one didn’t even get started. “But he kept me on as the CEO. Why?”

“Because you had good instincts and ideas. You had good plans. You just couldn’t seem to execute them. He thought I’d be able to assist and get them going. Just remember, it’s best to work with people who aren’t your friends. That way, personal feelings don’t get in the way.”