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Amanda barely had time to set the cups down before her phone started vibrating nonstop on the island.
Buzz.
Buzz.
Buzz.
Danielle leaned over her shoulder first.
"Ohhh—yeah, no. That's not a group chat vibration."
Samantha was already pulling her phone out, eyes widening.
"...Fan pages."
Ericka looked up immediately. "What now?"
Amanda unlocked her phone — and froze.
A video was everywhere.
Everywhere.
Someone in the café had recorded it.
The clip was short — shaky at first — but unmistakable.
Amanda at the counter.
Sierra stepping closer.
Amanda stepping back.
And then—
Ericka walking in.
Heels.
Posture.
Calm.
Dangerous.
Her voice was clear even through the café noise:
"Why would she listen to anything you have to say?"
The video cut to Ericka stepping directly between them, turning just enough to kiss Amanda's cheek — grounding, protective — before facing Sierra again.
"You already crossed this line at my office," Ericka said evenly.
"You don't get to do it again here."
The clip ended with Sierra visibly flustered, saying something unheard, and Ericka replying:
"We're done. Respect that — or leave."
The camera dipped as Samantha's voice cut in off-screen.
End video.
Silence filled the penthouse.
Leah finally let out a slow, stunned whistle.
"Oh my god."
Maria grabbed her phone, eyes wide.
"That was... hot."
Carter blinked. "That wasn't even aggressive. That was controlled."
Jamie leaned forward. "That was power."
Danielle spun the phone around so everyone could see the caption.
@MathewsParkerDaily
?? VIDEO
"THIS is how you set boundaries.
Ericka Mathews did not raise her voice.
She did not escalate.
She protected her.
Take notes."
The comments were already feral.
"THE WAY SHE STEPPED IN FRONT OF HER???"
"Not her kissing Amanda and then shutting it DOWN."
"That's not PR. That's real."
"If my partner doesn't defend me like this, I don't want it."
Ericka stared at the screen, stunned.
"They filmed that?"
Amanda slid closer to her. "Yeah... but look."
Another page had reposted it.
@RunwayTea
"Breaking: CEO Ericka Mathews politely but firmly shuts down harassment of Amanda Parker in public.
This is what respect looks like."
Leah laughed under her breath.
"Public opinion just did a full Olympic-level flip."
Maria nodded.
"They're not questioning anything anymore."
Amanda's phone buzzed again.
PR Team:
We LOVE this video.
Public sentiment is overwhelmingly positive.
This is authentic, powerful, and protective.
If you're comfortable, we recommend leaning into this energy.
Samantha read it and smiled.
"They're right."
Ericka exhaled slowly, rubbing her thumb over Amanda's knuckles.
"I didn't mean to make a scene."
Amanda turned fully toward her.
"You didn't."
She leaned in, forehead to Ericka's.
"You stood up for me."
Danielle grinned.
"And the internet is absolutely obsessed with you now."
Another notification popped up.
PR Team:
If possible, we suggest one or two more soft, affectionate posts tonight.
Nothing forced.
Just you being you.
Ericka looked around the room — at their friends, at her family, at Amanda.
Then she smiled — small, real, certain.
"...Okay," she said.
"But only because I'm holding her hand."
Amanda squeezed it instantly.
"Deal."
The noise upstairs kept going long after Amanda slipped away.
Laughter. Glasses clinking. Someone turning the music back up.
Amanda didn't announce she was leaving. She just grabbed her phone, slid on her shoes, and quietly stepped into the elevator before anyone noticed the shift in her energy.
Studio.
The doors closed with a soft chime.
The ride down was short, but the silence felt heavy in a way that finally let her breathe.
When the doors opened, the studio lights were still low from earlier — warm pools of light over worktables, mannequins draped in half-finished designs, fabric swatches pinned like thoughts she hadn't finished yet.
Amanda exhaled.
She crossed the space slowly, fingers trailing over a rack labeled Ericka — interview fits, soft power silhouettes, pieces she'd made with intention but never said out loud.
She leaned her hands on the main worktable and stared down at her sketches.
The video.
The comments.
The way Ericka had stepped in without hesitation.
Everyone kept calling it powerful.
Protective.
Romantic.
Amanda swallowed.
What they didn't see was the weight of it.
The door behind her opened quietly.
Amanda didn't turn.
She already knew.
Ericka stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her. She didn't speak right away — just stood there, watching Amanda the way she always did when she sensed something fragile.
"You disappeared," Ericka said gently.
Amanda let out a small breath. "I needed quiet."
Ericka walked closer, heels muted against the concrete floor. "You came here."
Amanda nodded. "This is the only place my brain shuts up."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The studio hummed quietly around them — machines asleep, fabric breathing softly, the city distant below.
Ericka stepped in behind Amanda and rested her hands lightly on her hips, not pulling her close, just grounding.
"You didn't have to run," Ericka said softly.
"I wasn't running," Amanda replied. Then, after a beat, "I was... thinking."
Ericka leaned her forehead against Amanda's shoulder. "About what?"
Amanda turned slowly, facing her now. Her expression wasn't panicked — just honest.
"About how fast everything is moving," she said.
"About cameras and fan pages and people thinking they know us."
"And about how I never want to be the reason you get hurt."
Ericka's brows knit immediately. "Amanda—"
"I know," Amanda said quickly. "I know you can handle it. I know you chose this. I just..." She gestured around vaguely. "I've spent my whole life behind the scenes. Creating. Supporting. Loving quietly. And suddenly it feels like I'm standing in front of headlights."
Ericka reached up and cupped Amanda's face, steady and sure. "Look at me."
Amanda did.
"You are not the risk," Ericka said firmly.
"You are the reason I'm steady."
Amanda's throat tightened.
"You think I stepped in at that café because of optics?" Ericka continued. "I didn't even think. I just knew you didn't deserve that moment alone."
She brushed her thumb beneath Amanda's eye. "And I will never resent loving you loudly if that's what the world sees."
Amanda let out a shaky laugh. "You make it sound easy."
Ericka smiled softly. "It's not. But it's right."
She glanced around the studio — the sketches, the labels, the care woven into every detail. "This place? This is you. And you've already been brave here for a long time."
Amanda leaned into her, resting her forehead against Ericka's. "I don't need the internet to understand us."
"I don't either," Ericka said. "But if they're watching... they're going to see exactly who we are."
Amanda closed her eyes for a second, then nodded. "Okay."
Ericka smiled — small, warm, certain. "Come back upstairs?"
"In a minute," Amanda said. Then she smirked faintly. "You followed me all the way down just to say that?"
Ericka shrugged. "You slipped away. I don't let that happen."
Amanda laughed quietly, finally easing. She wrapped her arms around Ericka, holding her close among fabric and dreams and unfinished ideas.
"Thank you," Amanda whispered.
Ericka kissed her temple. "Always."
A shadow slipped past the elevator doors.
Danielle.
Shoes in hand. Phone already out. Grinning like she'd just uncovered a secret tunnel.
"I knew it," she whispered. "They always disappear together."
She stayed back, ducking behind a rolling rack of muslin as Amanda led Ericka deeper into the studio. The overhead lights were dimmed just enough to make everything feel intimate, purposeful. Sketches lined the walls. Fabric swatches spilled over tables. It smelled like clean cotton and creativity.
Amanda stopped in front of a garment rail where four pieces were spaced evenly, intentional.
"Okay," she said, voice quieter now. "These are locked. No more debating."
Ericka crossed her arms, smiling. "You sound serious."
"I am."
She reached for the first piece.
Outfit One.
Amanda slid it forward to reveal a soft dove-gray tailored blazer paired with cream wide-leg trousers and a silk slate-blue camisole underneath.
"This is for the early morning interviews," Amanda explained. "Approachable, steady. You look like someone people trust before they even realize why."
Ericka ran her fingers along the lapel. "This feels... calm."
"That's the point."
Behind the rack, Danielle silently snapped a photo.
Click.
Amanda moved to the second hanger.
Outfit Two.
A midnight navy sheath dress, knee-length, structured at the waist with subtle pleating along the side. Clean. Confident. No distractions.
"Panel discussion," Amanda said. "You don't need layers here. Just presence."
Ericka nodded slowly. "This one feels dangerous."
Amanda smiled. "Good."
Third hanger.
Outfit Three.
Amanda paused for half a second before pulling it forward.
A deep forest-green silk blouse tucked into high-waisted black trousers, the cut sharp, the fabric fluid.
"This is the interview where they'll push," Amanda said softly. "About leadership. Pressure. Balance."
Ericka inhaled. "You expect me to fight."
"I expect you to win without raising your voice."
Danielle mouthed wow silently and took another photo.
Click.
Amanda reached the last piece.
Her hand lingered on the hanger.
"And this," she said, quieter now, "is for the sit-down. The one that actually matters."
She pulled it forward.
A black tailored blazer, minimal on the outside — but when Ericka leaned closer, she saw it.
The lining.
Hand-drawn sketches in fine white ink. Amanda's handwriting. Little notes tucked between outlines.
Ericka froze.
"Oh."
Amanda didn't rush her. "It won't show unless you move," she said. "But it's there. For you."
Ericka turned slowly, eyes glossy. "You made this without telling me."
Amanda nodded. "I wanted it to be a surprise."
Ericka reached out, gripping Amanda's sleeve. "No one's ever—"
"I know," Amanda said gently. "That's why I did."
From her hiding spot, Danielle caught the moment — Ericka's hand at Amanda's wrist, Amanda's expression soft and steady.
Click.
Perfect.
Ericka exhaled and leaned in, resting her forehead against Amanda's. "You're dressing me for war."
Amanda smiled faintly. "For truth."
Ericka pulled back just enough to look at her. "I don't know how I got so lucky."
Amanda shrugged. "Good hiring decision."
Ericka laughed, the tension finally melting.
Behind them, Danielle slowly backed away, already sending the photo to herself with a heart.
Danielle didn't even try to be subtle about it.
She slipped back into the penthouse first, phone already in her hand, eyes bright like she'd just stolen state secrets.
"Okay," she announced, clapping once to get everyone's attention. "Before they come back up here—everyone gather. You are about to witness art."
Samantha was the first to move. "Oh I knew you got something."
Leah popped up from the couch. "Why do you look smug?"
Danielle turned her phone toward them and started swiping.
The first photo filled the screen.
Amanda and Ericka standing close in the studio—soft lighting, Amanda's hand at Ericka's lower back, Ericka looking at her like the rest of the world had already faded.
Maria inhaled sharply. "Oh my—"
"That's not even the good one," Danielle said, already swiping.
The second photo: Ericka touching the lining of the blazer, eyes glossy, Amanda watching her with that quiet, steady pride.
Carter blinked. "That looks like a movie still."
Jamie leaned closer. "That is a movie still."
Danielle swiped again.
The third photo—foreheads touching, Amanda smiling like she'd just won something she never expected, Ericka's hand gripping her sleeve like she was anchoring herself.
Silence.
Then Samantha let out a slow whistle. "Yeah... PR is going to eat this alive."
Ericka's mom pressed a hand to her chest. "She looks so... safe."
Her dad nodded. "That's love. You can tell."
Danielle locked her phone and grinned. "And before anyone panics—no, I didn't post yet. I'm not that reckless."
Right on cue, the elevator chimed.
Amanda and Ericka stepped out together.
Amanda was mid-sentence, laughing about something under her breath, when she noticed the way everyone was staring.
"...Why do you all look like you've just seen a ghost?" she asked.
Danielle held up her phone. "Because we saw you."
Amanda stopped short. "Danielle."
Ericka blinked. "Wait—what did you do?"
Danielle walked over, softer now, and turned the phone toward them. "I took a few. You gave permission."
Ericka looked at the screen—and her breath caught.
"Oh."
Amanda leaned in over her shoulder, eyes widening. "Okay... wow."
The room watched as Ericka's expression shifted from surprise to something warm and emotional.
"They're... beautiful," Ericka said quietly.
Amanda smiled, brushing her thumb over Ericka's knuckles. "You're beautiful."
Samantha cleared her throat. "For the record, PR just texted me three fire emojis and the words 'drop when ready.'"
Leah laughed. "No pressure or anything."
Danielle bounced on her heels. "So? Can I post one?"
Ericka looked at Amanda.
Amanda nodded once. "One."
Danielle grinned.
She hit post.
Somewhere out there, the internet was about to lose its mind.
The penthouse slowly shifted from adrenaline to comfort.
Plates came out. Coffee cups were refilled. Someone turned the music down to a mellow hum that felt like morning settling in properly.
Amanda moved through the kitchen on autopilot, sliding breakfast sandwiches onto plates, handing out pastries, refilling mugs like she'd done this a hundred times before.
"Okay," Carter said through a mouthful of croissant, "this might be the best post-chaos breakfast I've ever had."
Leah nodded emphatically. "I don't even care that I slept on a sectional. Worth it."
Maria raised her coffee. "To dramatic mornings that somehow turn into soft ones."
They clinked cups, laughing.
Ericka sat at the island, one hand wrapped around a mug of tea, the other resting lightly against Amanda's wrist whenever she passed. Not possessive. Just... there. Anchoring.
Danielle was still buzzing. "I swear, watching the comments roll in live might be my new hobby."
Samantha snorted. "You created a monster."
Amanda leaned against the counter beside Ericka, finally taking a bite of her own sandwich. "Let's all enjoy five minutes of peace before PR remembers we exist."
As if summoned—
Ericka's phone chimed.
She glanced at the screen, then sighed softly. "And there it is."
Amanda leaned over her shoulder. "PR?"
Ericka nodded, already opening the message. "Looks like... a lot."
Samantha slid closer instantly. "Read it out."
Ericka cleared her throat, eyes scanning.
"Okay. They've officially sent over the interview schedule."
The room quieted—not tense, just attentive.
Ericka continued, voice steady.
"Four interviews. All confirmed. All next week."
Amanda straightened a little. "Times?"
Ericka read off the screen.
"Monday, 10 a.m.—Runway Today. Sit-down. Thirty minutes."
"Tuesday, 1 p.m.—Style Power podcast. Recorded."
"Wednesday, 9 a.m.—MarketWatch Fashion segment. Live."
"And Friday, 7 p.m.—The Culture Edit." She paused. "That one's the big one."
Leah whistled. "That's prime-time energy."
Maria nodded. "Okay, yeah. That's not small."
Ericka scrolled. "They also attached draft questions."
Amanda held out her hand. "Let me see."
Ericka passed the phone over.
Amanda skimmed quickly—eyes sharp, already in work mode.
"Okay," she murmured. "These are... actually respectful."
Samantha leaned in. "Any traps?"
Amanda shook her head slowly. "Not really. They're focused on leadership, partnership, boundary-setting, authenticity. A few questions about balancing personal life and public scrutiny—but nothing invasive."
Danielle grinned. "They want the love story."
"They want the competence," Amanda corrected gently. "The love just happens to be visible."
Ericka watched her for a moment, something soft in her expression. "You're already planning answers, aren't you?"
Amanda smiled without looking up. "Always."
Ericka reached for her hand this time, lacing their fingers together. "Thank you."
Amanda squeezed back. "We'll prep together. Outfits, talking points, pacing. You won't walk into any of this alone."
Samantha nodded approvingly. "PR also asked if you're open to coordinated looks across interviews. Consistent visual narrative."
Amanda smiled. "Already thought of that."
Danielle laughed. "Of course you did."
Ericka leaned her shoulder lightly into Amanda's side, quieter now. "This feels... real."
Amanda kissed the top of her head, brief and grounding. "It is."
Carter stretched, standing. "Well, if this is the calm-before-the-storm breakfast, I'm honored to be here."
Leah grinned. "Same. Also—someone tell PR we need hazard pay for witnessing greatness this early."
Laughter filled the kitchen again.