Page 115 of Company Ink

"Lucy, can I borrow your car?" I ask, standing up and stretching. "I need more clothes."

Lucy looks up from the book she's reading. "On the counter, honey."

I grab the keys and head out the door. "I'll be back in an hour."

It's been a hot minute since I drove a stick. It takes me an embarrassingly long time to get out of the parking spot, but thankfully muscle memory kicks in.

Nothing feels real. It's like these last sixteen hours have been a dream. A nightmare. Everything's hazy, foggy. My eyes hurt. I pay extra attention to the road in front of me as I drive to my condo.

I park down the street and grab my house keys. House. Fuck. I'm going to have to move soon. I can't afford my rent without a job. Without Monique. I guess I can stay with Lucy in the meantime. A burden. Great.

As I approach my complex, I halt, my heart rate speeding up. No.

Stalker.

Adrian is sitting on the curb, rubbing his hands together, his foot tapping on the ground. He looks unkempt, exhausted, and anxious. Hah, maybe he's scared I'll tell his wife he's a hoe.

I try to walk past him without him noticing me. No luck.

Adrian hops up and stumbles towards me. "Cassie, wait. Please!" he pleads.

I cross my arms, my body about to give out from stress and fatigue. "Adrian—there's nothing to say. I don't want to hear it."

"I know you're angry, you have every right to be, but please, just give me five minutes. I'll tell you everything. Please, Cassie. I beg of you. Five minutes."

I take a deep breath. I have no energy to argue. I just want this to be over. For good.

"Five minutes."

thirty-five

truth hurts

"Okay," I say, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge and walking into the living room. "Talk."

I would've had this conversation outside, but I'm not dressed appropriately enough to make a spectacle of myself.

Adrian perches on the edge of my couch, his gaze steady, unwavering as he stares at me, his head slightly nodding, his posture tense, nervous. As it should be. "Umm...I guess I'll start from the beginning."

"Sure, not that it matters," I mutter, taking a seat on the armchair. Five minutes. That's all. I don't owe him anything more.

"It matters, Cassie," Adrian says quietly, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands rubbing together. "It matters."

I sigh. "Just get on with it so I can leave. I have things to do."

"Right, sorry, okay..." Adrian caresses his chin, his eyes flickering around the room. "About three years ago, my father's company was struggling, we weren't meeting our forecasted targets, the new Board of Directors were losing hope... It was bad, Cassie. We were going bankrupt."

My eyebrows quirk up in interest. I don't remember ever reading about this on any blog site or magazine. "What does this have anything to do with the fact you're married?"

"It has everything to do with it," he says, closing his eyes. "When my grandfather passed away, my father took a rather laid-back approach to our corporate dealings. He wasn't as groomed in the fashion industry as my grandfather, he was destroying our reputation, our legacy. The President of the Board gave my father an ultimatum, either merge with another company or shut down operations."

"Okay...?" Even though I find the history of Cav Couture fascinating, I'm lost. "What's your point? That you merged with Il Ghiaccio? I know that. Everyone knows that." Everyone who follows the world of fashion.

"Yes." Adrian nods. "Il Ghiaccio was new, it was exciting, they were dominating the market, but they didn't have history, they didn't have culture, so my father reached out to Giovanni Gallo to talk about a merger. Giovanni was hesitant, he was worried we'd stage a coup at some point so he...he came up with a plan."

Oh no. I see where this is going now.

"An arranged marriage? Really? That was his brilliant idea? You're a corporate lawyer, couldn't you have just drawn up documents?"

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