18. Emzee
EMZEECHAPTER 18
T he last time I’d been called in for a private conference at DRM with my brothers, Stefan had told us that the Russian mob was threatening our family.
I was praying today’s team meeting wouldn’t be a repeat of that.
I’d gotten more than enough negativity dumped on me lately.
“Sorry I’m late!” I apologized as I burst through the door.
“It took forever to get Munch checked in at the doggie daycare, and then the traffic downtown was?—”
“It’s all good,” Luka said.
“Have a seat.”
Neither he nor Stefan looked as if the executioner’s axe was about to drop, so I relaxed a little into my chair as Stefan poured us all coffee.
And I took it as a good sign that my brothers seemed unbothered by my tardiness.
Maybe they even had some positive news to share.
How wrong I was.
“Things going okay at home?” Stefan asked me.
“You and Ford getting along?”
“Um.” My cheeks heated, and I took a quick gulp of coffee to stall.
“We’re great,” I lied.
“Good, good,” Stefan said, nodding.
“What about See Yourself? Still going strong?”
I glanced over at Luka, confused about the line of questioning, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze.
“The nonprofit is fine. Ford just taught a fantastic real estate seminar and the Malones are helping put together a big fundraiser for it. I’m not sure when, but you’ll all be invited.”
“Nice,” Luka said, forcing a smile.
“I can’t wait.”
Enough was enough.
“Why are you two acting so weird?” I huffed, looking back and forth between my brothers.
“And what’s with the interrogation? I thought we were here to talk about Danica Rose, not my personal life. Somebody better start talking.”
Luka rubbed his eyes and let out a sigh.
“All right, Stefan,” he said.
“Why don’t you get down to it?”
Instinctively, I held my breath.
Of course it would have been too much to hope that the Russian mob would just disappear on its own.
But that was exactly why I’d bargained with the devil—er, Mrs.
Malone.
In order to make the Bratva go away.
Was she not holding up her end of the agreement?
My stomach started to churn.
Stefan nodded.
“Okay. The reason I’m asking about your life is because…there’s still a very real possibility looming that DRM will go under and all of us will end up jobless and starting from scratch?—”
“If not actually murdered in our sleep,” Luka cut in.
“Luka!” Stefan scolded.
“Sorry,” Luka said with a shrug.
“I’m just saying.”
“Anyway. I’m still not convinced we’ll be able to work things out with the Bratva, so I’d like all of us to have a contingency plan in place. The subject certainly bears consideration,” Stefan finished.
“Hope for the best and prepare for the worst?” I added.
My brothers nodded grimly.
“I can appreciate the practicality,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
“Yeah,” Luka said drily.
“Thanks for that, Dad.”
“Look, at the end of the day I’m not trying to run anyone’s life—I just want to make sure we’re all okay.” Stefan looked grim as he drank his coffee.
“What will you do if the agency folds?” I asked him.
I felt a little sick just saying it out loud.
I didn’t miss what KZ Modeling had been, but Danica Rose was ours .
My brothers and I had built the agency back up from the charred ashes of personal and professional ruin that our criminal father had left it in, and it would break my heart if it was taken away from us.
Especially because of something our father had done.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Stefan confessed, leaning back in his chair.
“Especially with a baby on the way. But I’ll be fine. I’ve made a ton of business connections and I know I could hit up my contacts and find someone looking for help running their company.”
Smiling, I added, “And with Tori’s Linguistics degree and her gift for languages, international business would be a natural next step if it comes down to it.”
“Indeed,” Stefan said.
He looked over at Luka, who nodded.
“Brooklyn and I will be okay too,” Luka said.
“I’m sure if we put feelers out, we’d find clients interested in any kind of advertising and marketing firm we started. And actually, with Brooklyn’s background in modeling and my MBA, we could encapsulate whatever type of modeling business we want, and use her experience and connections to get it off the ground.”
Now both of my brothers were looking at me expectantly, and I realized that this meeting was more about my plans than theirs.
They seemed to have everything well in hand, but they were obviously worried about what would happen to their little sister if DRM folded.
I was both touched and annoyed at their concern.
After all, I was an adult, too.
A grown-ass woman with a fancy photography degree, a banging portfolio under my belt, and—most importantly—years of professional job experience
“Guess I’ll find out if art really can pay the bills,” I said lightly.
They exchanged a look.
“What about Ford?” Stefan asked.
“You think he’d be okay with supporting you for a bit, if necessary? Just until you figure things out.”
Bristling at the insinuation that I might not be able to pull my own weight with my photography gigs, I lashed out with, “Well he can certainly afford to cover me, can’t he?”
I was feeling more snappish than they’d probably expected, even though it wasn’t their fault that we were in this mess—and it really wasn’t their fault that I’d entered into a contract first with Ford and then with his family…
both of which were bound to make me miserable at the end of the year.
But I still wasn’t ready to admit any of that to my brothers.
They had no idea I’d gambled all of our futures—and the future of Danica Rose—on my fake marriage, hoping against hope that the upcoming year would give us enough time to pull off this deus ex machina .
I decided I’d better head them off at the pass before they could ask more questions about me and Ford, so I volunteered, “I was actually just speaking with Andrew Apellido about a job opportunity recently. Have you heard of him?”
“Andrew Apellido?” Luka’s eyebrows went up.
“Holy shit, dude’s a legend! I love that guy. He launched a new magazine project a few months ago. Stefan, have you checked it out?”
“I am now,” Stefan said, tapping at his smartphone screen.
“Brooklyn was on the cover for their third issue, and the photos were insanely cool. Right up your alley type of stuff, Em,” Luka said.
“How’d you meet him?”
“At a party,” I said.
“He knows all about Danica Rose and he’s familiar with my work.”
Both of my brothers looked impressed.
“Okay, now I remember,” Stefan said, still scrolling away at his screen.
“They ran this great long-form piece about the influence of Eastern Europe on Western media.” He looked up at me, head cocked.
“Shame you’re already married. Someone like Andrew could really bring a lot to the table.”
“Way to be mercenary,” Luka joked.
“Emzee married for love, remember?”
I laughed along with them, but Stefan had no idea how close to my own thoughts his words had been.
Because ever since my fortuitous introduction to Andrew, I’d been feeling more aware than ever that I did have a life of my own to pursue.
Especially once I was divorced.
Just like I had told Ford in the heat of the moment, the world wasn’t going to end when my relationship did.
It might feel that way to me, but time always healed.
And even though my mourning wouldn’t be an act, there would always be another act to follow.
I’d get through it.
“Oh, Em, were you planning on going to the Borderless Business Convention next week?” Stefan asked.
“Luka’s coming with me, but if you want I can book you on our flight.”
“Where is it? I remember hearing about it, but not the details.”
“New York,” Stefan said.
“I’m hoping to convince the Weston brothers to buy out a portion of our company. Not a controlling interest or anything, but…”
“We could obviously use the cash,” Luka said.
Right.
To pay off the Bratva.
Because my deal with the Malones was a secret.
I wished I could tell them about it, but part of me was still afraid it might fall through.
The Malones could renege at any moment.
The other thing was, the less my brothers knew about my deal, the better.
I knew they’d only try to talk me out of it, maybe even approach the Malones themselves—if I could just pull this off on my own, my family and DRM would be saved.
I’d tell them about all of it afterward, when there’d be no chance of them screwing things up, best of intentions or not.
I gave them a smile.
“I’ll sit this one out, but thanks. I’ve got enough on my plate at the moment. Good luck, though. I really hope you make some headway with them. Fingers crossed.”
My answer was cheery and chirpy—just as they’d expect from their little sister.
Back in my own office, I closed the door and let out a breath of relief.
As full of warm fuzzies as I was over my brothers’ care and concern for me, it was so much work pretending.
I hated doing it, hated the constant lying, but it couldn’t be helped.
We all had secrets.
Unfortunately, mine felt like they were threatening to overwhelm me.
I just had to get through the next year and hope that if I couldn’t pull off the deal with the Malones, maybe Stefan could work something out with the Weston brothers.
If he could, good God, it would solve a lot of my problems.
Both for the Zoric family and for me personally.
I sent up a little prayer that the meeting would go well, that it might give us some options.
Because as it stood right now, everything was riding on my divorce.
A divorce I wasn’t even sure I wanted.