Page 98 of Crossing Lines

“Ouch,” I wince as Mama G slaps the back of my neck with the icy bag of peas.

She clicks her tongue and sits in the armchair. “It’s after six in the morning. Thought you’d outgrown this behavior.”

“I’m sorry. I knew you’d be up and needed your kindness.”

She hisses. “Told you not to get in some mess. Now you’re fighting over a woman.”

I scowl. “How do you know it’s because of Davia?”

“Boy, please. I see right through you.”

Groaning, I lie on the sofa and rest the cold bag on my face. “The look she gave me made me feel like shit. I shouldn’t have unleashed on ol’ boy. It scared her.”

“You love Davia,” she discerns. “You’ve never been serious about anyone, so I can tell you love her.”

“I didn’t intend to ruin her relationship,” I rasp. “It just happened. I couldn’t fight the feeling, and I’m not ashamed.”

“Son, I doubt that relationship was a happy one. That girl looked at you like you’re the last drop of water on earth. Let her sort out her situation so she can be with you without a heavy heart.”

“I’m afraid she’ll go back to him. I lost myself. I haven’t fought anyone since selling dope on the streets. It felt like I was back in that moment, fighting to protect my territory—protect what’s mine.”

“Give it time,” Mama G suggests, pushing up from the chair. “I’m making breakfast before Iree comes down to leave for work.”

“I’m surprised she isn’t up shitting on me. She’s mad at Davia and me.”

“Is that why she was crying Tuesday night when she returned?” Mama G wonders, looking to the stairs.

“Crying?” I repeat while sitting up.

She refocuses on me and waves it off. “She’s going through something. She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I ease it out as Mama G walks off. “Troy, why are you calling so early?”

“Man, there’s an issue at the club.”

THIRTY-NINE

I keep sketching and erasing. I’m still unnerved by Jamir’s violent behavior and how he grabbed my arms like he wanted to beat my ass. It makes me want to run to Kross. However, I can’t stop thinking about the switch in him either.

The need to check on him makes me reach for my phone. As I’m about to send a text, Wren walks into my office with a stark look. “Chavonne wants to see you.”

“Okay.” I follow him down the passage to the meeting room. Seeing Liza from the legal department confuses me. But panic skyrockets when I look to the end of the table and see a livid Chavonne. “What’s going on?”

“Was the process taking too long for you?” she grits, standing.

“I don’t understand. What happened?”

“This happened!” She throws a bunch of photos toward me. “My advertiser saw them.”

Picking one from the table, I realize it’s a shot of mannequins in a store window. My eyes widen at the realization they’re wearing my designs. Down to the fabric colors. “Oh my god!” I grab another photo taken inside the store. There’s an entire rack with five of my dresses. I look at Chavonne. “Who did this?”

“You tell me, Davia,” she demands. “I invested money into your launch. Planned an event to celebrate it in my stores. But we’re too slow for you, so you went toLove Always.”

“You can’t possibly think I did this? I’ve only been loyal in all the years I’ve worked here. I was looking forward to launching my line underLa Monte. I wouldn’t leak my work to the competitor. I didn’t get a cent for this.” My voice cracks as tears pool down my face. I glance at the pictures again, feeling heartbroken. I can’t believe someone stole my designs.

Wren touches my back to offer support. “What can we do, Liza?”

“File a lawsuit,” she replies. “You have the original designs.”

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