Chapter 62
ALEX
When life appears too good to be true, it usually is.
For the first time in too long, my life is angst-free.
Since our date, my relationship with Brooke has moved to another level. Work is running smoothly, even Mother seems to have taken a step back.
I think of the woman sitting outside my office. She intrigues me… more than any woman I’ve met in a long time. Yet my heart and mind are in a constant battle. She’s intelligent and passionate, but I sense she’s holding part of herself back.
Fuck!
My protective instincts are in overdrive. Enzo told me not to overthink it, let her come to me. Yet here I am, overthinking everything, wanting her to let me in and allow me to support her.
There’s a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I say.
The door opens, and Elise pokes her head in.
“Do you have a moment? Brooke isn’t at her desk,” she asks.
“Of course.” I stand and motion her forward. “Come in. Brooke has popped out.”
I don’t tell Elise that Brooke’s gone to the doctor to talk to them about birth control after a near miss with a condom.
She opens the door wider, allowing Teresa to step through. My scalp prickles at the look on their faces.
Elise closes the door, and they both move forward.
“We have a problem,” Teresa says.
Not words I want to hear on a Monday morning.
* * *
The past week has been a blur.
After Elise and Teresa dropped the bombshell that some of the designs from our new spring/summer collection have been stolen and picked up by another house, our legal team has been working overtime.
Temporary restraining orders have been issued in federal court, along with a host of cease-and-desist letters.
But the fact of the matter is we’re no closer to understanding who did this.
St Clair is on lockdown. File access is restricted. No phones or cameras are allowed on-site, with everyone checking them in at the door. We’re back to using our old-fashioned telephone system and walking to speak to those we need to.
“You have my word,” I say, earning myself a grunt.
“I’ll wait to hear from you.”
The call ends and I refrain from throwing my phone across the room.
“Shit!” I say, running a hand through my hair.
Another luxury department store, threatening to cancel its seasonal order.
I’ve promised them that whatever collection we release, it will retain St Clair’s exclusivity and value.
A promise I can only hope to keep, as we still don’t know where the leak originated.
“Kristophe Lansdown is here to see you,” Brooke says, popping her head around the door. Her brow furrows as she takes in my expression. “Is everything…”
I force a smile.
“Thanks, Brooke. Send him in.”
She lets it drop, stepping back.
Kris enters, his hand outstretched. “It’s been a while,” he says.
“Thanks for coming. I wish it were under better circumstances,” I say, shaking his hand and motioning for him to take a seat.
“Can I offer you something to drink?”
“Your PA’s on it. Coffee and cake, apparently,” he says with a smile. “She seems nice, organised.”
“She is. She’s been a godsend since Callie went on maternity leave.”
“A baby boy, wasn’t it?”
“Logan.”
Although Kris is a couple of years older than us, we’ve shared the same social circle and attended charity events together.
Brooke knocks and enters, carrying two coffees and two plates of her latest creation. She baked this one in my kitchen. Despite it being a weeknight, she agreed to stay over because of my stress levels.
“Thanks,” he says, shooting her a smile that she returns, setting my teeth on edge.
“You’re welcome.”
Brooke leaves us.
“Small talk isn’t why you’re here. Have your team uncovered anything?”
“I’ve got my top digital forensics team on it. They’ve been following digital breadcrumbs.”
“Have they found anything?”
“We’ve extracted metadata and digital watermarks and audited identity and access-management logs.”
“And?” I ask, my heart rate picking up.
“Nothing. It’s clean.”
“It can’t be.”
“Whoever did this is smart. They knew what we’d be looking for.”
“Fuck.” I run a hand down my face.
It’s looking more like an inside job, but who?
“If I had to hazard a guess, the designs have been stolen the old-fashioned way. Photographs on a burner phone, sketches of the individual designs and flats that have then been reproduced.”
“What about a timeline reconstruction, anomalous behaviour detection?” I say, knowing I’m grasping at straws. “Aren’t those things you can investigate?”
Kris shakes his head. “Believe me, we’ve tried. However, your team are a close-knit bunch, and we don’t know at what stage these designs were taken. Everyone within the department has access to all the designs…”
“Not for much longer,” I say, dropping back and expelling my breath with a huff.
“What do you know about the stolen designs? Maybe we can start there.”
“The designs weren’t patented yet, so we have no recourse under the garment silhouette protection.
And as they haven’t been released by us, we can’t prove secondary meaning.
The only recourse we’ve got is to find out which bastard leaked this.
Every member of this company signs an NDA.
I need to know who and get them out of my company. ”
“Then I suggest you look for someone with an axe to grind, a disgruntled employee, maybe a new member of staff who may have had access to the designs and could be a plant.”
“Thanks, Kris, I appreciate it.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t be more help. I’ll send over the timeline reconstruction and anomalous behaviour detection reports. Maybe you, Elise, and Teresa will see something out of the ordinary.”
I nod.
* * *
The smaller fashion houses involved deny all knowledge of the breach, but the date and timestamps on our original design sketches and records speak volumes.
They may have entered the designs into their own CAD systems, but ours have earlier timestamps, so the cease-and-desist letters are working.
No one wants to go up against us. The fashion houses involved have apologised profusely, insisting they received the designs in good faith and will not be proceeding with any of them.
The frustrating part is that we’re no closer to working out who is responsible for the breach.
Elise sits opposite me, dark circles under her eyes, her shoulders drooping.
“Could it be someone within your department?” I ask.
“In all honesty, I don’t know anymore.” She releases an audible breath.
After another long day, her pained expression is impossible to miss.
“I’ve spent so much time looking at everyone, the access logs and reports Lansdown’s team produced, wondering who it could be.
But Alex, these are my friends, people I’ve worked with for years.
We all have access to the designs. We’re a team.
You remember what it was like. We support each other.
Everyone chips in. It’s why our designs are so strong.
I just don’t see how it can be one of them. ”
I grip the back of my neck and massage the tight muscles, not wanting to disparage her idealistic notion, but these people aren’t her friends. They’re her colleagues, acquaintances at best, and one of them is potentially selling us out.
There’s a knock on the door. My mother enters, not waiting for an invitation. Brooke is hot on her heels.
She shoots me an apologetic look.
“Mother?”
“This is bad. Why wasn’t I informed earlier?” she says. “Morning, Elise,” she adds, almost as an afterthought.
“Morning, Mrs Bianchi,” Elise replies, shooting me a questioning look.
I shake my head. No, I don’t want her to leave. We still have things to discuss.
I draw in a breath.
“Because there’s nothing you can or could have done.
Kris had his best people on it,” I say, trying to keep a lid on my temper, already regretting how much I shared with her after she confronted me.
“As I told you last night. We’re following the necessary protocols.
The lawyers are on it, and an internal investigation is underway.
The designs themselves have been frozen. ”
I should probably have told her when I first found out, but the last thing I need is her sticking her nose in, trying to help.
“An extra pair of hands,” she says. “I don’t take kindly to hearing that the company is under attack from a client; I expect to hear that kind of news from my son.”
“As I said, it’s been a little crazy around here. And extra hands are unnecessary. We’re limiting the investigation to a need-to-know basis until we find out who is behind this. I’m working closely with Elise and Teresa to…”
“But what if it’s one of them?” she asks, firing a look of apology at Elise. “It’s better to keep this in the family. Enzo can come. He can help.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, counting to ten.
“Mother, I have it under control. Elise and I…”
She sniffs in displeasure, but I ignore it.
“It’s clear I’m not needed. Maybe I’ll go and speak to Brooke,” she says, moving towards the door. “See if she can give me more insight.”
My hackles rise. “Leave Brooke alone. She’s my PA, not a gossip columnist.”
Or at least I hope she isn’t. My early concerns about her relationship with my mother raise their ugly heads, but I push them to one side.
My mother turns, her brows rising.
I close my eyes for a second and centre myself.
“What I mean is, we both have a lot of work to do. Just because this has happened, it doesn’t mean the day-to-day running of the company has stopped. Don’t make me regret having told you.”
She harrumphs this time, her hand going to the door handle.
“Not that you had a choice… well…”
“Well, nothing, Mother. Go home. I’ve got this under control. I’ll let you know as soon as anything changes.”