Chapter Three Scarlett
I was five when my parents realized that my love for school and studying was a lot more serious than the average person’s.
I spent months begging them to let me join a spelling bee, and when I beat all the best spellers in the first grade in our area, I’m pretty sure they thought something was wrong with me.
They pulled strings to let me compete, and the board wanted to start an investigation into how I managed to spell ‘intelligence’ at four years old.
Being smart and helping out my family was the only thing that kept me going for a while. It gave me a purpose. I knew that the better I did, the happier they’d be, and that eventually I’d be able to stop listening to business meetings from behind a closed door.
Studying, drawing and designing felt like the only thing I had amid the chaos in my childhood.
The second I came home with a perfect report card and saw the smiles on my parents’ faces I knew how badly I wanted to make them smile like that again.
I wanted to keep proving to them, and myself, that I could be more, do more.
The past three summers, I’ve been working closer with my parents at Voss, and I finally thought they were ready to give me a job as a designer.
I’ve been working toward this my entire life, perfecting designs and testing them out with any spare fabric left in the design studio.
I know I could shine there if they just gave me the chance.
As much as they encourage me, I know Wren and Kennedy think it’s insane how hard I’m gunning for a real position at Voss instead of settling as an assistant for a few years before growing into a more active role.
Until I have the spot at the table I’ve been working toward, I’ll keep pushing.
Because when I close my eyes at night, I can see myself ten years from now, still wanting to pin my report card on the fridge.
Sometimes I think that feeling will never go away.
So, I’m going to speak to them.
Today.
Right after this class that is this close to sending me to sleep.
The seat beside me squeaks, and I don’t even have to look to my left to know who has just sat beside me. Because there’s only one person in this world that enjoys getting under my skin just as much as I enjoy getting under theirs.
Evan Branson has been making my life a living hell just by existing at the same time as me.
As the youngest children in our respective empires, I have no reason to like the man.
B it’s about the status that comes with it.”
“Sounds like someone’s been doing their homework.”
“A concept you’re clearly unfamiliar with.”
Evan grins, tilting his head to the side. “But exclusivity can be a double-edged sword. Don’t you think it alienates potential customers?”
I sigh. He’s asking dumb questions, like he’s testing me. If I hadn’t spent the entire summer working in an office that treated me like I was invisible, I wouldn’t have the answers.
“Only if the brand isn’t careful. You’re supposed to balance exclusivity with accessibility. Like offering a premium line for the elite and a more affordable one for the general market. Keeps everyone interested.”
He hums. “True. What about brand loyalty?”
“What about it? I saw the stats. You’re losing thousands of customers each year because you don’t change anything. Unless you’re stealing ideas from us.” His face falls, and I smile, pushing my hair over my shoulder. “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I suppose.”
“Hm.”
“We’re setting trends. You guys are not. Maybe you should try creating something original,” I say brightly, like I’m just giving a friend advice. His eyes narrow. I smile harder. “Oh, and by the way, your tie’s crooked.”
I watch as he opens his mouth and closes it after a beat. His eyes look like they want to say more, but he doesn’t. And I couldn’t be happier that he’s finally shut the fuck up.
I lean back in my seat, feeling a little bit lighter than before.