Page 93 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
He picked up on the second ring. “Dean, are you celebrating yet? Your mom and I broke out a bottle of champagne if you want to stop by and have a glass with us. I’m so damn proud of you.”
My throat closed up.
“Dean? You there? I think we might have a bad connection. I can’t hear you.”
“Hey, Dad.” I finally forced the words past my lips.
The silence on the other end was deafening. He immediately realized something was wrong. “Are you okay?”
“Define okay.” I barked out a humorless laugh.
“Dean, talk to me.”
Mom’s worried voice filtered through the speaker. “Dave. What’s wrong with Dean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dean, honey.” Hearing her concern helped me formulate my thoughts. I hated knowing I was the one to cause her any distress.
“Hey, Mom. Dad, I’m not sure how to say this but we have a problem.”
“We’ve had problems before.” Dad said.
“Not like this.’ I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “The fall designs. Someone else has them.”
“What? How?”
“I got a tip that they were running in the paper tomorrow.”
“Who took them?”
“Elaine Tremaine.”
Mom’s gasp was audible through the phone. “She wouldn’t. We had lunch together. She was so nice.” Her voice trailed off, probably thinking of their afternoon together, looking for clues that Elaine wasn’t who she appeared to be.
“Yeah, well, I don’t know if she realizes they’re our designs or what but either way, it’s her boutique that’s claiming ownership.”
“I just can’t believe it. I’m usually such a good judge of character.” Mom sounded shocked. “Oh, poor Ashlyn. Does she know?”
“Yeah. We talked.”
“She must feel awful about all this.”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t break my mother’s heart yet and tell her the truth. That Ashlyn had been the one deceiving us. “Dad, what can we do?”
He sighed. “It’s not the end of the world, Dean. You know how our fall and summer design debuts bring in a lot of business, but I’m more concerned about what this might do to you.”
“I know. The board won’t let something like this go.” Saying the words out loud was like a kick in my gut.
“No, they won’t.”
“What do you need me to do?” It was my fault we were in this mess. I’d left the designs out. Now I had to pay the price.
“Did she get all of them?”
I paused. It hadn’t occurred to me to ask that. “I don’t know. I kind of just assumed she had.”
“Hold tight for now, Dean. I’ll reach out to our lawyers. They’ll know how to handle this.”
