Chapter 36
Meghan
I step out of the shower, the steam still clinging to my skin as I wrap myself in a soft towel.
The lavender scent of my body wash lingers in the air, filling the space with a quiet, comforting luxury.
I glance at my reflection in the mirror.
My arms are defined, my stomach flat, and my legs—strong, sculpted.
The daily Pilates sessions with my private trainer are paying off, just like they always do.
Gary isn't just great in the gym, he's also amazing in the bedroom. Too bad he’s not Cal. No one will ever compare to him, but that’s over. It’s time to move on, and today marks the beginning of my reign in my father’s company. The thought makes my pulse quicken.
I step toward the closet, barely sparing a glance at the pile of discarded clothes on the bed.
All things I’ve already deemed unworthy for today.
No time for anything less than perfect. I swing open the door and step inside, my eyes scanning the rows of outfits, each one a possibility.
Which one will make me look the most like a leader?
Which will grab their attention and keep it?
At today’s board meeting, I’ll be introduced to the new partner. I wonder if he’s young, handsome, single. Wishful thinking. Either way, I intend to charm him until he’s eating out of the palm of my hand.
First, I grab a classic black blazer, structured and sharp.
But I discard it almost immediately. Too safe.
Too predictable. My eyes fall on a deep red pencil skirt, the color of power.
It’s tight, sleek, and hits just the right balance between professional and seductive.
I pair it with a white silk blouse, the fabric cool and smooth against my skin, flowing just enough to highlight my curves.
I stand in front of the mirror, turning to check my reflection from all angles.
But something still doesn’t feel right. I want to be admired, not just noticed.
I reach for the perfect choice: a navy blue dress with a fitted waist, hugging every curve in the best way.
It’s classy and commanding—exactly the type of statement I want to make.
When I slip it on, I almost feel like a queen placing the crown on her head.
“Perfect,” I murmur to myself. This is it. This will make them see me for what I truly am. "Powerful." The word tastes like honey and sounds like pure bliss.
Jewelry. I need the right finishing touch.
I walk to the vanity, eyes already searching for the pieces that will make me look even more untouchable.
A pair of diamond earrings are first, their sparkle catching the light.
My fingers graze the gold necklace Hannah gave me for Christmas.
A silly little gift I’ll never wear. I find the bracelet I picked up last year, a gift from one of my many admirers.
I chuckle at the little game I play: window shopping at a jewelry store, pretending to spot a piece I’m seeing for the first time and convincing whoever I'm with that it was their idea to buy it for me.
Works every time. Finally, I grab a silver watch, sleek and bold—and also a gift.
Next are the shoes. I need something that screams confidence, something high enough to remind everyone who walks into a room that I own it.
Black patent leather stilettos with a pointed toe.
Perfect. As I slide them on, I feel the power shift beneath me.
Every step will be one closer to claiming my place in the company.
The final touch is deep red lipstick, bold and daring, emphasizing just how much I’ve got it together.
I finish up by checking myself in the mirror one last time, a wide grin spreading across my face. This is who I’m meant to be. This is what I’ve been working toward, and now it’s mine for the taking.
I grab my red handbag and step out of the bedroom.
Gabby’s in the kitchen making Hannah some breakfast. “Good morning, Hannah Banana.”
“Good morning,” Hannah says, beaming at me. “You look so pretty, Mommy. You look like a princess!”
I kiss her gently on the forehead before correcting her. “Not a princess, sweetie—a queen.”
Then I meet Gabby’s gaze. “Please make sure all the clothes piled on my bed are put away before I get back this afternoon.”
“Of course,” she says. “Good luck today.”
“Thanks,” I say. “But I won’t need it.”
***
As soon as I walk into the building, the eyes of the staff follow me. It’s exactly how I imagined it would be. I am the future of this company. I can feel the whispers behind my back. People are already talking about me. Perfect. They should be. They’ll be calling me ‘boss’ soon enough.
I find Claire in her usual spot, organizing papers that don't matter.
She glances up, giving me a curt nod. "Good morning, Meghan," she says, in her typical, polite voice. I can practically feel the judgment radiating from her, but I don’t care. I’m too focused on what’s to come.
"Good morning," I reply, my gaze fixed ahead as I brush past her. "From now on, I expect you to address me as Ms. Fletcher."
I almost think I hear her mumble an apology, but I don't stop to acknowledge it. My attention is fully on the boardroom doors ahead.
"This is it," I whisper as I open the door and walk in. I can almost hear the collective gasp as all eyes turn to me. There it is… respect. I don’t even need to say a word. They can feel it. They know they’re in the presence of greatness.
“Good morning,” I say, shooting everyone a beaming smile as I settle into my seat at the head of the table.
“I’m here to lead this company into the future," I say, the words slipping out effortlessly, like they were meant to be spoken by me. "Let’s get started, shall we?”
Just then, the door swings open, and Claire walks in, carrying a stack of folders.
“We’re still waiting for one more person,” she says, handing out a folder to each of the attendees.
I sit back, flipping through the documents in front of me, trying to appear engaged, though my thoughts are already starting to wander. My eyes drift to the agenda paperclipped to the front of the folder. The names of today’s attendees are listed, along with their respective titles.
I find my name: Meghan Fletcher, Director of Operations. This can't be right. How am I not listed as the Vice President?
I pause as my gaze lands on another name with three little letters behind it: CEO. My mind struggles to comprehend what I’m seeing.
“No. It can’t be,” I whisper, my voice sounding distant, almost like it belongs to someone else.
My heart stutters in my chest, and the room seems to grow impossibly still. I stare at the name, blinking, hoping it’s some cruel mistake or twisted joke.
And then, that unmistakable voice slices through the silence. “Excuse me. I believe you’re in my seat.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, a visceral blow that knocks the breath right out of me. I feel the air rush from my lungs, my body frozen in place as my eyes lift slowly, almost unwillingly, to meet hers.
Elle.