THIRTY-NINE
I keep sketching and erasing. I’m still unnerved by Jamir’s violent behavior and how he grabbed my arms like he wanted to beat my ass. It makes me want to run to Kross. However, I can’t stop thinking about the switch in him either.
The need to check on him makes me reach for my phone. As I’m about to send a text, Wren walks into my office with a stark look. “Chavonne wants to see you.”
“Okay.” I follow him down the passage to the meeting room. Seeing Liza from the legal department confuses me. But panic skyrockets when I look to the end of the table and see a livid Chavonne. “What’s going on?”
“Was the process taking too long for you?” she grits, standing.
“I don’t understand. What happened?”
“This happened!” She throws a bunch of photos toward me. “My advertiser saw them.”
Picking one from the table, I realize it’s a shot of mannequins in a store window. My eyes widen at the realization they’re wearing my designs. Down to the fabric colors. “Oh my god!” I grab another photo taken inside the store. There’s an entire rack with five of my dresses. I look at Chavonne. “Who did this?”
“You tell me, Davia,” she demands. “I invested money into your launch. Planned an event to celebrate it in my stores. But we’re too slow for you, so you went to Love Always .”
“You can’t possibly think I did this? I’ve only been loyal in all the years I’ve worked here. I was looking forward to launching my line under La Monte . I wouldn’t leak my work to the competitor. I didn’t get a cent for this.” My voice cracks as tears pool down my face. I glance at the pictures again, feeling heartbroken. I can’t believe someone stole my designs.
Wren touches my back to offer support. “What can we do, Liza?”
“File a lawsuit,” she replies. “You have the original designs.”
“Regardless, they’re out there. People bought them from those assholes.” Chavonne drops into her chair and massages her temples. “I’ll have to cancel the event and stop production. Write it off as a loss.”
That’s shattering. “Wait… I can design new pieces. They only have five of the dresses. There’s the other six looks.”
She scoffs. “I doubt you can complete new designs in a week. We’d have to order new fabrics and materials. Production wouldn’t finish in time for an August launch.”
“I’ll pay for materials and production. Use every dollar in my savings if need be.”
Her expression softens. “Look, Davia. Go home. Take tomorrow and next week off while I figure this out.”
I can’t argue with her. It’s her brand. “Okay.”
With slumped shoulders, I exit the meeting room and head to my office. Fresh tears escape while packing up to leave. I dodge all the stares on the way out, not wanting anyone to see me cry.
It’s hard to believe someone at La Monte sabotaged my launch. I can’t think of who. I only showed my designs to Chavonne, Wren, the team involved in production, and Kross. Neither would do that to me.
I drive almost blurry-eyed to the only person whose arms can comfort me. Turning into the neighborhood, I continue toward his building and park in front. I enter and take the elevator to the third floor.
Kross opens the door before I knock, concern on his face. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
I fall apart before him, letting the disappointment pour out in tears.
“Davi?” He hauls me into his arms and holds me tightly while I cry.
Moving me to the sofa, he lies with me on top until my sobbing stops, and I calm down enough to share the hurtful news.
“I’m so sorry.” He rubs my back tenderly. “Can’t believe some fucker stole your work.”
“We can sue, but I doubt they’ll give up the person. They probably don’t even know. My designs might have reached them anonymously.”
“Fuckers moved fast to have them in store. Must have received them the same week you started working with production.”
“After Paris.” I ease off his chest and sit up on the sofa. “Is this karma for following my heart?”
“Hey.” He turns my head to look at him. “You did nothing to deserve this. Some asshole fucked with your work, and when I find out who, they’ll wish they were dead.”
“Kross.” I sigh and stand from the sofa. “Earlier, you looked scary. I know you were defending yourself when Jamir attacked you, but after he went down…”
He stands and takes my hand. “I’m sorry for losing control. Please believe I’ll never hurt you and will always protect you. That asshole deserves another beating, though.”
I crumple my brows. “Kross, don’t go—”
“He called the city and had my club closed for inspection. Troy said two people complained about an unsanitary kitchen. Motherfucker.” The veins in his neck bulge.
“I’m so sorry,” I mutter. “It’s my fault. Jamir’s trying to hurt you because of me.”
“It’s an easy fix,” he assures me. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s focus on your situation.”
I frown. “I’ll talk to Jamir. Make him leave your business alone. He’s not a bad guy.” Except he called me a whore, threw something, and grabbed me.
“Don’t go to him.” He wraps me in his arms and kisses my forehead. “I’ll handle things. I got you.”
The comfort in his body and words is all I need to settle my nerves.