15. Evren
Evren
S ince our kiss in the gym two days ago, Nina and I have spent all our time together when I’m not working.
Every night we sleep in Nina’s bed, holding each other and talking.
That’s my favorite part of the day, when we get to know each other.
Like her dislike of horror movies, or that her favorite color is orange, or the quiet moments where she opens up a little more about her mom.
Her mom who she thinks will make me run for the hills, but what she doesn’t know is that I’ve dealt with worse. Her mom doesn’t scare me, but she scares her.
When I get home from work, I find Nina at her sewing machine, working on what appears to be a throw pillow, and kiss the side of her neck.
“Hi,” she says.
“Do you have a minute? I got the new designs from the apparel team. ”
“Of course, show me,” she says.
I hand her the iPad and show her the multiple design directions the team took the feedback in.
“Hmm…” she says, frowning.
“What does ‘hmm’ mean?”
“It’s going in the right direction, but they’re not there yet.
For example.” She points to a shirt on the top of the screen.
“The cut is better, and more feminine, which is good, but the logo placement overpowers the entire shirt, and the colors are all too dark. No one is going to wear this outside of a game, and the entire set of options doesn’t include the versatility point. ”
“Okay, thanks, let me?—”
My phone pings with a message from Nate. I read it and then glance at Nina. “Nate is asking for us to come to the pool house right now.”
Nina pops to her feet and says, “Do you think he has an update about the break-in?”
“Let’s find out.”
On the way to the pool house, Nina grabs a box of donuties from the kitchen cabinet and brings it over. “What’s that for?”
“Just an apology to Nate. I was a little rude to him after you moved me from the pool house.”
“He doesn’t care.” He’s paid not to.
“Well, I care.”
Not many people see this side of Nina. She’s all heart beneath her prickly exterior. It’s a rare quality to have, and I’m starting to realize it’s the thing I crave most about her.
We make it to the pool house seconds later and Nate doesn’t waste any time getting straight to the point. “We apprehended the intruder. It turns out he was trying to find out if Stella has a double or not.”
“People are still trying to do that ridiculous challenge?” Nina asks in shock.
A few months ago, there was a viral challenge Stella’s ex started to determine if there were two Stellas.
He wasn’t wrong since Stella and Elodie switched places, but it got out of hand when there was a cash reward added into the mix.
Stella dealt with multiple break-ins, and evidently, they’re still happening.
“It appears that way,” Nate says. “But it means that this incident was unrelated to your house being hacked and the corporate issues you’re experiencing.”
“Shit, we need to call Kai and give him a heads-up.” As Stella’s head of security, Kai needs to know about the threat against Stella.
“I’ve already informed him,” Nate says, “but he wants to keep what happened quiet. Sounds to me like he doesn’t want Stella to find out and have her be distracted while on tour.”
“She has a right to know,” Nina says.
Nate shrugs. “It’s his choice, and Stella trusts him to keep her safe. But this means we can pull the security detail on Nina if you desire.”
“Yes, please,” Nina says at the same time I say, “No. ”
“Just for a little bit?” Nina asks. “There’s no threat against me.”
“But what if something happens…”
“I have that app on my phone. I’ll be fine.”
Two days later, at breakfast, I show Nina the updated designs. She swipes through the pages, a frown forming between her eyebrows.
“It’s still not right,” she says. “They only improved the color palette, but didn’t change anything else. Can you show me the email you sent them?”
I click over to it and pass her back the iPad.
“The instructions are clear.” She glances at me in confusion. “Your team sucks. It’s like they’re purposely not listening to your feedback.”
“Shit,” I murmur under my breath. That’s exactly what I was afraid of.
It makes me wonder if someone on the design team is sabotaging this whole renewal.
I wouldn’t put it past Mert to have someone in his pocket, feeding him information and purposely trying to ruin what I’m doing with Glam Pop.
“I think I have a traitor on my team, and they all need to be fired.” And they will be.
I refuse to have anyone working against me on the team.
“Whoa, back up. Why do you think that?”
“Because of Mert.” I explain to her who he is and our theory that he’s behind all the issues I’ve been having lately.
She sits back in the chair, cereal long forgotten, and lets out a low whistle. “Holy shit. Is this considered normal for you? Being blackmailed?”
“Normal? No. But it comes with the territory, I guess.”
“Why do you still work? Why not just live on a private island and not have to deal with all these assholes who are trying to hurt you?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I used to tell myself it was because I enjoyed the challenge—fixing businesses, making it work where others couldn’t.
But lately, after working nonstop for almost twenty-four years, I wonder if it’s more than that.
There’s this fear that I could lose it all and my mom and Zeki would be left with nothing, that we’d be poor again. It’s a pressure that never lets up.”
“But you’ve already given them more than enough. You deserve to live your life, not just survive for everyone else.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“You do,” she insists. “Tomorrow morning, at breakfast, I want to show you something.”
“Is this something good or bad?”
“Why don’t you come and find out? Make sure you don’t have to rush off to a meeting right after.”
At six the next morning, Nina comes down the stairs, her eyes red, her hair in a messy bun and a dress in her hands. Yesterday, she stayed in her room all day and night, her sewing machine whirring, and not allowing me to come inside. I’m more than a little curious about what she’s up to.
“Since you’re being sabotaged,” she says without any preamble, “I want to show you what kind of design I was talking about.”
She holds up the dress and it’s stunning.
“It’s a fit-and-flare dress,” she says, as if I know what that means.
The top is dark green, and the skirt has panels of the same green and white around the entire thing, creating a geometric pattern.
“Your logo is incorporated here.” She points to an embroidered belt at the waist with my logo dotted throughout it.
“You could offer it in full black or full white with pops of green or white on the hem of each. That way your customers would be able to wear this any time, any day and it doesn’t scream NFL team but instead is modern and versatile.
I even added some detachable straps in case someone wants them, or not. ”
Nina’s passion for design is like a tangible thing, and the more she explains, the more it becomes clear that she knows exactly what she’s talking about.
She has an inherent sense of what the market wants, of what my customers want.
That level of business astuteness isn’t easy to come by, but she has it .
The design she made is modern and stylish and I finally understand what she was proposing with her feedback. This is different from most of the other teams, but I think it’s the perfect direction to take in order to stand out. Better yet, I think this is exactly what is needed to impress Glam Pop.
The only thing is, I need Nina to do this, to make the line. She’s the one with the vision and the talent to pull it off.
My instincts scream at me to hire her, to even have her at the presentation to Ben and Mick since I’m confident her passion will win them over. But…the chance of Nina accepting is slim to none. She won’t even take the franchising deal and I still don’t fully understand why.
“That dress,” I say, “is perfection.”
“Really?”
“Don’t act surprised. You know you’re talented.”
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
“Are you free tomorrow?” I ask.
“Why?”
“Because I want you to come to my office. I have an idea I want to run by you. Would noon work for you? We could combine it with lunch.” If I want to offer her a job, I think she needs to see what I’m going to use the money for. Maybe that’ll help her get over her fears of working with me.
“I thought you didn’t do lunch breaks.”
“For you, I’ll make the exception. ”
“Fine,” she says, “but you better order Indian and make it worth my while.”
I laugh. “Deal.”