Page 10 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
An office that, if things had been different, would’ve been mine. I’d be the one sitting behind that desk making the big decisions.
Before tears could fill my eyes at the what-could-have-beens, I walked closer to the desk, between the two chairs, keeping my gaze level with the cold, green eyes I’d once hoped would look upon me with love. “Hello, Elaine. Thank you for seeing me so quickly.”
“Hmm, yes, Stella told me it was,” she paused and glanced down at the cell phone on her desk before looking back at me, “important.”
My gaze shifted to my stepsister.
Stella bit her lip and shrugged in apology. My sweet stepsister, who was more like a sister, the only one who supported me in this room, had done what she could to help me. Now I was on my own. Clearly, my stepmother hadn’t bothered to read my proposal.
It was probably a good thing I printed out my business plan. The document I’d spent days on was well-prepared. Neither Adelise nor Elaine were aware I’d taken night classes at the local college to better understand what I needed to start my own business. I received my Bachelor’s degree in Business Administration and specialized in Entrepreneurial Studies last year, with only Stella and friends from school cheering for me when I walked across the stage to receive my diploma.
I leaned forward to hand the papers off to Elaine and instead had them snatched from my grasp by Adelise. Her condescending gaze told me what she thought of me. What she’d always thought of me. And I knew she’d never support what I’d painstakingly created and laid out in detail on the pages that she flipped through with little regard.
A smirk stretched across her lips by the time she’d gotten to the last page.
“This is pathetic, Ashlyn. Did you copy and paste this from something you found online?” She handed my plan roughly to her mother, tearing a page in the process.
Elaine glanced at the proposal. By the time she made it to the end, her perfectly shaped eyebrows had slightly raised. She placed the stack of papers down on her desk, laced her fingers together, and laid them on top of the documents. “So you’re here to ask me for money?”
I forced myself to swallow the saliva that was stuck in my throat. “Yes.” Now was not the time to back down. Especially since I didn’t secure any investors from the ball last month. My options had dwindled. “It’s a good move. There’s a market for what I want to do.”
Adelise snickered in disdain. “A market for it? Are you serious, Ashlyn?”
“Yes,” I responded to Adelise, my gaze never leaving Elaine’s.
“So you think that creating a line of sexy lingerie for fat women,” Elaine’s eyes briefly looked me over, “such as yourself, is a good financial move.”
“Yes, there are many women out there who arecurvyand deserve to feel beautiful. Being that I’m alsocurvygives me an advantage. I know what women my size want, and I know how hard it is to find.”
“And what is this thing you have here in the proposal about little phrases stitched into each piece?” Adelise sighed, apparently already bored.
“I think it’s unique and lovely,” Stella piped up.
My shoulders relaxed a little as I heard her jump to my defense. Stella didn’t win any battles against her mother or her sister, but the fact that she tried brought a genuine grin to my face.
“They are hand-stitched positive affirmations to bolster the wearer’s confidence.” My smile grew wider. I loved this part of my branding more than anything. I wanted women to know that no matter their size, they were unique and beautiful.
“Adelise, what are your thoughts?” Elaine asked.
My shoulders slumped.
“I think it’s absurd.” Adelise leaned over and grabbed the business plan she’d handed to her mother. She then proceeded to toss it into the trash can on the side of Elaine’s desk. Whatever confidence I’d managed to build up before walking in here joined my dreams in the trash.
“Hmmm, Stella?” Elaine asked, a faint smirk lifted the corner of her lips.
Stella blinked a few times. “I, uh, I really love it. And Ashlyn is a wiz at sewing and design. I know she’d do great.”
Elaine was drawing out the no I knew was coming. She never asked Stella for an opinion when it came to business. Not that Stella couldn’t be helpful, but Adelise was the shark. My stepmother knew whose advice to follow if she ever actually needed it.
Elaine stared at me. A trickle of sweat slid down my back. I wished she’d just tell me no and be done with it. Shaking her head, she tsked. “Your father would be ashamed. Such nerve asking to frivolously throw money at a wild dream that is, in all honesty, a terrible idea. I’ve clearly allowed you too much freedom if you think you’re smart enough to run your own company. I thought you had better sense at twenty-seven than this.”
Anger seared through me and raced up my chest. Heat rose and spread across my cheeks while I clenched my hands by my side.How dare she bring my father into this.She had the balls to insinuate I wasn’t smart enough to start a business when my father handed Enchanted Bridal Boutique over to her twenty years ago—a businessmy motherhad started.
“Do you feel as though the seamstress job I graciously gave to you and working as an assistant to Burda is beneath you?” Elaine asked.
I shook my head. My job here was fine. I didn’t love it because I didn’t love working for my stepmother. Burda always looked out for me, but my dream wasn’t to alter other people’s wedding dresses. I wanted something for myself. More importantly, Ineededit. And this life—this job—wasn’t it.
Elaine continued her rant. Her voice never rose, but the edge to it—the dismissal—tore into me. “You have no training, no start-up funds, norealplan.” She waved her hands towards the trash can. “If I handed the money over to you to start this business, what would you learn? Would you respect or care for it? I think not. Maybe you should find another way to get this money if it’s such a sound business idea.”
