Chapter 13 The Plan Is Still On
Emma made a sigh of relief as she looked at the gold asymmetric draped gown on the mannequin. A big smile spread across her face. She felt sure the duchess would love it. It took her seventeen hours to finish the dress.
She felt a little nervous when Susan said it was for the duchess. It was her first time making a dress for someone so important. The only difference from her usual work was that the wearer would be a royal—not just one of the girls she usually sells clothes to in Mexico. Luckily, everything turned out beautifully.
She stretched and left the mannequin in the clothing room. She went back to the office to check the time on her phone. When she saw it was past nine o’clock, she quickly grabbed her bag and left the office, making sure to lock the door behind her.
By the time she got home, it was already ten. Emma opened her room door and was surprised to see Phoebe. She was sitting on her bed. She gasped. "Oh, my God! What are you doing in NYC so early? You said next week!" She ran over and hugged her, squealing with excitement.
"Well, I can see you’re in a good mood," Phoebe said, pulling back from the hug. "Your mom told me to hang around. And your siblings! They’ve really grown."
"Yeah. About that." Emma tucked her hair behind her ear. "They still aren’t talking to me, even though Mom forgave me. I can’t blame them, though." She quickly changed the subject. "So, what’s up? Why are you here so early?"
Emma started changing her clothes. She never thought she’d see Phoebe at her place. She had planned to slip into pajamas and go to bed, but that plan was out the window.
"I got a job offer here. Em, it’s a big deal. When I got the email inviting me to his gallery, I was in shock. He wants to buy one of my paintings too. I had to come right away and surprise you!"
"I’m so happy for you. We are winning." Emma opened her closet and looked for her nightwear. She turned back to her friend with a smile. "Phoebe, things are really looking up for us." She reached for Phoebe’s hand and gently squeezed it. "I’ve been thinking."
"About what?"
"Ezra."
Phoebe groaned. "Oh. Please don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts about adopting."
Emma glanced at her door, then back at Phoebe. “Keep it down. Someone could hear.” She sighed and spoke quietly. "It’s just that everything is going so well. I made a dress for a royal today. If the duchess likes it, do you know how much it will be worth? Since Ezra has been kind to me, I don’t think I want to hurt him."
"Blah blah blah.” Phoebe rolled her eyes. “Emma, listen. Have you forgotten that three years ago, you stole from him? What if he finds out? What if, after learning who you really are, he isn’t as kind to you as he showed you? Do you really want to go to jail?"
Emma shook her head. "No. I don’t. I feel awful trying to do this and—"
"I see what’s going on here." Emma looked at her friend, trying to see what she really knew. Phoebe was good at guessing and understanding people. "You’re in love with him." She laughed. "You can’t be in love with him."
Emma tried to defend herself. "What are you talking about? I don’t love Ezra. I—I—"
"I—I—!" Phoebe mocked. "Remember this: You will be played, and you will get hurt."
Emma hugged herself tightly. "He’s not like that at all. He is good and kind, and—"
"I hear you." Phoebe got out of bed and grabbed her bag. "When you change your mind, just let me know."
"Phoebe." Emma called, but she didn’t turn. She walked out, slamming the door.
Emma sat on her bed, her hand on her face. Phoebe wouldn’t agree with her. She was the only one who always had her back. Emma thought about Phoebe’s words. What if she was right—that Ezra wasn’t as kind as he seemed, even though he gave her a great job?
What if he wouldn’t forgive her for what happened three years ago?
She went to bed feeling guilty.
The next morning, Emma saw a group of people gathered and talking when she opened the door to the level six office. When Susan spotted her, the group separated. She approached Emma. "How could you make this mistake, Miss Facer?!" she yelled, her mouth squeezed and brows furrowed.
Emma was confused. The last thing she needed right now was to be blamed for something she didn’t do.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
Everyone moved aside completely, and Emma saw the mannequin in the center of the room. The sequin dress was ripped on the side and had a purple stain underneath.
"How are we supposed to explain to the duchess that her dress is ruined?"
"I—I’m really sorry, but I didn’t make any mistake."
"Then explain that."
"Listen, Susan. That dress isn’t mine. Last night it was perfect. There was nothing wrong with it. How could I have messed it up when I locked the office and checked it was properly locked twice before leaving?"
"Then take a look, because that’s the dress we saw in the fitting room," she replied.
Emma shook her head. “Excuse me.” She ran to the fitting room and she didn’t see the mannequin she had left here. She slowly walked back to the office, and stepped closer, and looked properly at the dress in the middle of the office. It was the same fabric she had stitched yesterday. How could it be in such a bad state?
"I backed you up. I told Beatrice so many good things about you. I can’t believe Mr. Queen thought it was smart to promote you to level 6. He should have made you practice with a needle and thread first."
That word was a slap to Emma’s face and as she stared at the ruined dress, she wanted to cry, she wanted to curse. How could they do this to her? How could someone be so heartless?
Susan turned to the others. "We have four hours to come up with a better design for the duchess's dress. Don’t screw this up."
People started to run from left to right. Some were discussing fabric, some were discussing the type of style to sketch.
Susan turned to Emma. "You can go now. Your part is over."
"No. No. Please, just listen to me. Give me another chance to fix this. I’ll make a different dress before the duchess arrives."
"You need to leave, Miss Facer. You’re not needed here anymore," Bea said. She shoved Emma hard, but Ezra caught her and steadied her to stop her from falling.
When they saw him, everyone gasped.
"Are you alright?" he asked. Emma looked at him curiously. She nodded and he turned to Susan. "What on earth is happening here?" he shouted. He had come to check on the result of her assignment but he hadn’t expected a scattered and heated office.
Everyone else kept their heads down. Susan approached and explained what happened.
"Is that really true?" His eyes shifted to Emma.
Emma shook her head. "No, sir. I didn’t do this. I swear."
He had seen her resume, so how could she have messed up?
"Follow me to my office," he said and walked to the door. Emma followed. She wanted to know what was on his mind, but he said nothing, and the air was thick. She closed the door behind her and he slammed his hand on his table, which startled her. "How could you be so reckless?" he asked.
He wanted her to stand up for herself. He knew her work was good. She wouldn’t make a foolish mistake. She was capable, and even if she slipped up, she could fix it.
Emma stood quietly, staring back at him, listening to the shouts he threw her way.
Why talk when no one would listen?
"You can’t even stand up for yourself?"
"I’m sorry, sir,” She swallowed, trying to be strong. “I’m sorry sir, but no one will believe me. I’m not foolish enough to make that mistake. How could I have done it when I know how important the dress is for the duchess?"
"The duchess?” His brows were raised. “Where did you hear that?"
“Susan said today is the fitting for the Duchess of Leamington. She will be arriving here.”
"Oh, you knew that, yet you still let this happen? How could you be so careless? You know what? Just leave. I’ll handle the rest." Ezra sat down to think, but Emma stayed standing. Seeing she wasn’t moving, he asked, "Are you really not going to leave?"
“I’m really sorry.”
"Stop saying sorry! Just go!" he shouted.
She quickly exited.
As Emma walked to the elevator, she thought about what happened and who might be trying to ruin her. She couldn’t shake off the feeling of humiliation.
How could he think she would ruin a dress? Fashion was her life. She would never risk something so important. Why would he ask her to make the duchess's dress if he didn’t trust her from the start?
Phoebe was right. He wasn’t as great as she thought when she first saw him after three years.
She picked up her phone and dialed. “The plan is still on, Phoebe. Let’s move forward with the adoption.”