I know that I’m the one who made the difference. I could have just sat back, let his company fail and feast on the carcass, but I didn’t. And I am proud of myself. A warmth spreads through my chest when I think of recounting the story to Scarlett. I wonder what she’ll say to me. "Right, I gotta go, but speak to my PA and get him to arrange a meeting for us this week,” I tell him.
"I’ll do that," he replies. "And... thank you. Thank you so very much. You have no idea how much this is going to mean to my family."
"No problem," I reply awkwardly. I’m not used to being on the receiving end of gratitude, that’s for sure.
I hang up and call down to accounting. I’m going to have to make some moves with the money I promised him. It still feels strange and unfamiliar, but there is a sureness in my mind that tells me this is the right thing to do.
Chapter 29
Scarlett
I smooth out my skirt and check my shoes for what feels like the dozenth time. I can hear Molly’s voice in my head, telling me that I look great, but I’m not sure I believe her. I’m not sure I’ll ever believe her, to be honest, not when it comes to dealing with people for whom clothes are an industry.
It’s my first official meeting with Mark, and I feel like I am going to puke with nervousness. Zach offered to come along with me, but I turned him down. I figure it’s time to strike out on my own and prove I can do this without him.
Which I know I can. I know I can!
I had a whole life before him, I have to keep reminding myself, and I got along just fine without him there by my side. Sometimes, it is easy to forget that, given how much a part of my life he has become since we got married. I know our marriage is only for show, but still… it's nice having someone around who I know has my corner.
Even if it’s just until he gets what he wants from me.
I knock on the door. I then notice the way that Mark’s receptionist is staring at me.
She’s a slightly older woman. Her lips are a little pursed as she eyes me.
I wonder if it’s to do with my outfit. I look away from her, trying to keep my cool. I don’t feel like I’m doing a very good job. In fact, as I hear him moving around the office, my heartbeat picks up to near-fatal levels. I take a deep breath, and manage to smile when he opens the door.
"Scarlett, great to see you.” He comes forward and does his usual, kiss on each cheek. Then, he steps aside to wave me in. He closes the door behind me as I take in his office.
It's large, airy and decked out with tasteful art and ultra-modern, uncomfortable looking silver furniture. I suppose he’s got to sell the whole fantasy of his luxe lifestyle to anyone walking in here.
"Great to see you too, Mark," I reply.
“Take a seat,” he invites, gesturing at the nest of sofas close by.
I perch at the edge of one of the sofas. I was right it is uncomfortably hard. "Thanks for agreeing to see me again so quickly, you must be so busy…"
"Never too busy to look into working with a great young talent like you," he replies, with a wide smile.
I am never sure how to respond to compliments, so I just offer a light laugh and hope it’s enough for him.
"I thought we could talk about the particulars of what you were going to be doing when you’re working for me," he explains.
To my surprise, he doesn’t take the seat at a desk or anything like I was expecting, but next to me on the same small sofa. It throws me off, but I don’t let it show on my face. This must be normal. Fashion people are always a little kooky. Maybe I’m going to have to adopt a similar super-friendly demeanor and start kissing people twice on the cheeks if I’m going to make it in this world, too.
"I would love to hear about what you have in mind," I say with a smile as I pull a notebook and pen out of my bag. I really brought it along to take notes, but it also has a few of my sketches in it and if he happens to ask about those, too, then I suppose it’s good to have them on hand...
"Oh, you don’t need that," he tells me, reaching over, and closing the notebook.
I furrow my brow at him. "I would prefer to keep it around, if it’s all the same—"
"And I’d prefer if you didn’t, if it’s all the same to you. I like to keep things just between us. I find notebooks and recording machines pesky things," he continues in a friendly voice.
I feel a shiver running down my spine, and I get the feeling that something is off. Maybe I should have listened to Zach. Maybe he knew something I didn’t.
"I’m sure you understand the nature of this business," he goes on, speaking slowly, as though he’s not sure that I am getting all of this. "That there’s a lot of give and take between creatives..." He lets the words hang in the air between us.
I eye him expressionlessly. I have to give him the benefit of the doubt for now, as I’m not sure what other choice I have. If I get up and leave now, I’m not only going to blow my chances with this business, but he’s a powerful man and he might blow any chance I have of making it in this industry.
"So…” he says with a slippery smile, “I need to know that you’re going to be on board for that.” Without warning, his hand slips from my notebook onto my knee, where he rests it firmly.
I look at his hand for a second, then back up to his face. "Of course, I’m happy to share ideas with you," I reply.
"And what about more than ideas?" he presses, as his hand inches a little further up my thigh.
Okay, now… I know something is wrong. I get to my feet quickly and turn away from him, managing to keep a smile on my face even though I feel like turning around and screaming at him. "What? Like portfolios? Tips on new designers?" I ask, holding my notebook out in front of me protectively. As though it’s going to do anything to keep him away.
He rises to his feet to match me.
I fight the urge to shove him away from me.
"I was thinking more like beds," he murmurs.
I suppose in his head it might have sounded seductive, but it sounds so ridiculous coming out of his mouth that I nearly burst out laughing. Or, at least, I would have, if it hadn’t been for the way he is looking at me, like a side of meat he can’t wait to get his teeth into.
"I think you might have gotten the wrong idea about this," I tell him quickly, stepping away from him even as he advances on me. I think back to the look that the secretary gave me when I was entering this office, and I wonder if it might have had anything to do with what he is trying to pull on me right now. Has he done this before? Enough times for it to become a pattern? If he tries anything, I swear, I’ll knee the slimeball in the crotch.
"Or maybe you have," he shoots back, a sharp edge to his voice.
I lift my hand, flashing my ring at him. "I’m married. And my husband is a very powerful man—"
"Oh, I know Zach," he replies, brushing off the warning. "Everybody knows about Zachary Black. He’s not going to mind if you have a bit of fun, he’s probably having some right now."
Okay, with that, I am done. A flood of rage rushes through me as I head for the door. I don’t care if I never get a job in this industry, but I won’t spend another second in this odious man’s presence.
But as soon as I put my hand on the doorknob, I realize that the door to the office is locked.
Chapter 30
Scarlett
My stomach drops and I turn back to him. "Unlock this door," I order. I’m so furious my voice is shaking. I wrap my arms around my notebook and glare at him, hoping I can spook him, but he doesn’t seem bothered.
"Come on, you can’t tell me that the thought hasn’t crossed your mind," he tells me, sliding up next to me.
He’s so close I catch a whiff of his gross aftershave once more. I draw my head away and do my best to stem the panic threatening to take me over. "If you don’t let me out I’ll scream," I threaten.
He laughs. “Scream away. This office is sound-proofed.” He moves fast. Reaching for my shirt, he pulls down the edge of it to expose my shoulder.<
br />
Before I can jump away, I feel his teeth on my skin. And suddenly, something snaps inside me. I’ve spent so long without any control over my life, over myself, over my father’s estate. Well, I’m not without control here.
I lift my hand and land a sharp—much sharper than what I gave Victoria—slap on his face.
Mark pulls back, his jaw hanging open. He clearly wasn’t expecting that. "What the fuck?” he splutters, taking a step back from me.
My shoulder is throbbing where he just bit it, and I pull up my shirt to cover myself once more. "Unlock this door right now," I order. “Or I’ll be kneeing you in the balls next.” I have the upper hand now. I can get out of here. I can make him release me.
"If you walk out of here, I’m not going to support anything you do," he tells me. His face is burning-red where it had contact with me.
I can tell no one has done this to him before. Anyone he ever got in here was so desperate to work in the industry that they let him get away with it.
He is so livid he is glaring at me with pure hatred.
I don’t care. I want him to feel as mad and humiliated as I did when he had me cornered. "I wouldn’t expect less from you," I shoot back. "Now let me out."
"I’ll tell everyone you’re nothing more than a wannabe rich bitch who doesn’t know a thing about fashion," he threatens, and he seems to be getting something out of being cruel.
It should sting, hearing those words, but I don’t let them sink in. I no longer care about his opinion. He has already proved to me that he is the last man on Earth that I should be turning to for help. If he thinks I’m going to fall over myself to get his approval now, he must be crazy.
"Good," I snap back. "I don’t want anyone thinking I have anything to do with you."
"Get the fuck out of here," he snarls, and pulling open the door, he practically shoves me outside.
I feel like I have just staged a prison break. I catch my breath, and notice his secretary giving me that look, the same one she had hit me with when I had walked in here. Pity. I didn’t guess this before. I purse my lips and head for the door. If she’s happy working for a man like that, then she’s welcome to carry on. I have better things to do with my time.
As I drive back, I can feel a rush of emotion taking me over. Not just the release of all the adrenalin that had been swimming around my system, but something more than that. Sadness. Grief. I really thought that I had found a way into the industry. I was so desperate for that opportunity that I had deliberately blinded myself to all the clues Mark had been giving out. Now he had just underlined to me that a career in fashion was never going to happen to someone like me unless I was willing to whore myself and give in to the whims of the awful men who play gatekeeper in the industry.
How many women had walked in there, feeling just as hopeful as I did, only to walk out with the sense that everything they had clung to had been crushed? It isn’t fair. And I don’t feel like I should have to stand for it.
By the time I arrive home, I am crying. I try to pull myself together, not wanting to tell Zach what happened or have him get mad on my behalf. But as soon as I step over the threshold and see him standing there, his face full of worry.
Chapter 31
Scarlett
He hurries towards me and wraps his arms around me just as I sink to the ground. He sinks down with me. "Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, stroking my hair. "Did the meeting go badly?”
I can’t reply. I am crying too hard. It takes me a moment to catch my breath and look up at him, and when I do, I can tell that he already knows what happened at the meeting.
"Your shirt," he murmurs, as he gently peels back the shoulder, the same shoulder that this awful man had sunk his teeth into. He pauses for a moment, taking in the teeth marks on my skin, and then his gaze finds mine. "Are you all right?" he asks gently.
I still can’t say anything, but I look up at him and shake my head.
His face darkens. I can see the fury there, a towering rage I have never seen in his eyes before. And I know under no circumstances is he going to let this slide. He is going to make Mark pay dearly for what he did to me.
"I knew he was going to do something like this, I knew it," he mutters, as he clasps me tight and rocks me like a mother rocking her child. "But I clenched my teeth and let you go because I could see how desperate you were for this opportunity. I prayed I was wrong or at the very least, he would be smart enough not to try it with you."
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe—you,” I whisper brokenly.
"He’s never going to do anything like this again, not to you, not to anyone else, don’t you worry," he promises, getting to his feet and taking me with him.
Arnold has come running to see what is happening, his face full of concern.
"Arnold, can you get a car ready for me, please?” Zach asks.
“Yes, Sir,” he says immediately, and turns away.
"Where are you going?” I ask Zach.
His mouth is set into a hard line. “I won’t be long. Just wait for me, okay.”
"You’re not going to his office, are you? Please don’t go, Zach. I don’t want you getting in trouble for this! I just want to leave it all behind me."
"I’m not going to be able to leave this until I teach him a lesson he’ll never forget and I know for damn certain that he’s never going to do this to anyone else," he growls. "And I’m going to make sure the world knows the kind of narcissistic piece of shit he is. If you want to watch me do that, then by all means, come down with me."
I rise to my feet, and wipe my tears away with the back of my hand. "That actually sounds good," I say, and I mean it. Zach is right. He should be humiliated by someone more powerful than him. He should be hurt the same way he hurt me and the whole world should know that he is a monster preying on young women’s dreams of entering the industry. Like Zach, I want to make sure that he never does what he tried to do to me to anyone again.
I curl up in the front seat of the car while Zach drives. My tears have dried, at least for now, because I know that Mark is going to get what is coming to him. If anyone can make him pay for what he’s done, it’s Zach. Zach is just as powerful in business as he is.
We get to Mark’s office building and Zach gets out of the car.
I hesitate. I thought I wanted to see Mark get bloodied, but in fact, I don’t want to watch it go down. Also, I can’t bear to set foot inside that building again. "I think I’m going to stay here," I tell Zach "Is that okay?”
"Anywhere you feel safe," he replies, then impulsively, he leans over and kisses me on the lips.
I know he is doing this for me. He is doing this because he can’t bear to see me in pain. Because he is my husband, because maybe, just maybe he... he cares about me. The thought makes my skin prickle and my hair stand on end.
"This won’t take long," he tells me then he stalks into the building.
I let my gaze travel up to the ceiling to floor windows that looks into the waiting room of Mark’s office.
I can’t hear anything from inside the car, but after a while, I see Zach brushing through the room and into Mark’s office. The secretary gets to her feet, in a vague attempt to stop him, but he doesn’t seem to even notice her. I am so proud that he is my man. I can’t think of many people out there who would feel bold enough or brave enough to strike out on behalf of me, but there he is, making his stand for me.
Another minute passes. And then, there is a commotion.
Mark, bloodied, stumbles away from his office. He is clutching his face like he is in serious pain. Looks like Zach did more than just land a slap on him. Zach storms out after him, flexing his fingers like he is ready to hit him again. Mark shouts at him and backs away. Even from this distance, I can see what a coward he is. He looks terrified. I can’t make out what they’re saying, of course, but I don’t need to. All that I need to know is that Mark has paid for what he did to me.
A few more minutes pass, then Zach app
ears outside the car once more. Though his knuckles are bloodied, there is a grin on his face. He looks like a schoolboy, fresh from the fight.
"Did you really just...?” I ask as he climbs back into the car.
"Hit him hard enough that I think he lost a few teeth?" He grins at me. "Yeah, I think so. And I told him that I’m going to expose him. I’m going to get a few lawyers on the case, see who I can get to speak up. I’m sure there are lots of women with stories to tell. That secretary of his seemed pretty keen to share something with me. Fuck knows what she’s seen over the years..."
He grabs the steering wheel and winces.
I reach out to caress his sore hand. I can’t believe that he stood up for me. Without even thinking twice. This isn’t the Zach that I knew all those weeks ago, the Zach who I had written off in my head as selfish, cruel, and sleazy. "Here, let me drive," I suggest.
He shakes his head, but I’m not taking no for an answer.
"Come on, I think it’s the least I can do after you just defended my honor like that," I tease. "Let me drive us home? And maybe make you dinner tonight."
He glances at me and grins. "I suppose I could swing that," he agrees, and shifts from the driver’s seat to allow me to take the wheel.
Before pulling away, I look over at him one more time. "And thank you again," I tell him. "For defending me like that. You have no idea how much better I feel, knowing that he’s not going to be able to do that to other women."
"No he won’t," he states fervently.
I know he means it. Zach isn’t the kind of man who does things by halves, that is what I have discovered above all else in the time I have known him. He is many things, but he is not a faker. He might have thought he was, when it came to our marriage, but I can see through that now. I can see that he wants to protect me the way a real husband would. And I know that everything I have been feeling for him, he feels it right back.
Let’s Pretend Page 12
