Page 87 of His Forever Girl

Tess, relieved this wasn’t over Graham, made a face. “I don’t understand why you’re upset. That’s wonderful news.”

“Miles wantsyourfloat designs.”

“Well, yeah.” Tess couldn’t grasp the conversation. She felt as if she’d fallen into some parallel dimension where bad news was good news and vice versa. “That’s what we gave him.”

“No.”

“No?” Tess sat back in her chair. “You didn’t sub my proposal? Wait, you subbed yours?”

“But somehow he knew about yours.”

Monique moved inside the office and Cecily took up her former position at the door, looking gleeful, as if she were watching an execution.

Tess gripped her chair arms, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she wanted to punch Monique or needed the support. “I never talked to Miles about my designs and, frankly, I’m pissed you chose yours over mine.”

“Why? It’s my company. I can submit whatever I wish.”

“And yours weren’t better than hers anyway. You’ve never been told no, have you, princess?” Cecily said, with another greasy smile.

Tess stared at both the women wondering if this was a joke, and then the situation really hit her.

Monique had not given Miles Barrow the designs Tess had slaved over.

Instead the woman had submitted her own substandard float designs. Monique had allowed Tess to play at design much like she’d given Emily a made-up project to keep her occupied, never intending to use Tess’s work in the first place. Fury flooded Tess. She stood.

“Wrong. My designs were the better of the two, and you know it.” Tess peered over Monique’s shoulder. “And your fairy godwitch knows it, too, but she’s too busy with her nose up your ass to tell you the truth.”

Cecily gasped, but Monique laughed. “Ah, there’s my tiger.”

Tess hadn’t expected the amusement cropping up in Monique’s eyes. God, the betrayal the woman had just exercised was almost as bad as what her father had done. Monique hadn’t valued her in any way beyond her family’s name. She’d used Tess and the Ullo reputation to her own advantage, lied about the designs, and then had the gall to laugh about it.

Monique patted her cheek and Tess swatted at her hand. “Don’t be mad, Tess. Maybe you’re right. Yours might have been better, but you have to know I will always have final say.” Monique didn’t even look slightly guilty.

“But you purposefully deceived me.” For once Tess was glad she was bigger than Monique. She crossed her arms and became her father—cold, businesslike and pissed a person could treat an employee so shabbily.

“I merely decided at the last minute I liked the original proposal. Yours was going to take more time and more money, but how did you know yours weren’t submitted?”

Tess hadn’t. And she had no idea why Miles insisted she take the lead beyond what she suspected—the man trusted her because he’d worked with her before.

Not saying a word, Tess stared at her boss, trying to make her uncomfortable with the way she’d behaved.

Monique shrugged, seemingly unaffected. “But know what? It’s fine. Not a bad idea to give him choices. I just wished you’d have consulted me before proceeding with Miles. He’s signed the contract stipulating we use your designs and that you oversee the production. You’re his contact person and now wholly responsible for Oedipus. I’m half pissed at you and half proud of you for going after what you wanted.”

Tess opened her mouth but this time nothing came out. Yeah. Speechless.

“I’ll send all the information over to you. Miles wants a few adjustments on your Gulf of Mexico float, but beyond that, he trusts your vision. Congratulations.” And with that, Monique left. Cecily stood openmouthed as Monique passed.

Tess sat down before her trembling knees buckled. She couldn’t grasp what had just happened.

Cecily’s drawn-on eyebrows rose toward her thinning hairline. “You don’t get where your bread is buttered, do you?”

“Stuff it.”

Cecily scoffed. “You didn’t get your way so you ran off and played poor little rich girl with Miles.”

“I had nothing to do with this.”

“Bullshit,” the woman said, her mouth curling into a half snarl that would have made Elvis jealous. “You’re cut from the same cloth as your old man—you do whatever it takes.”

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