Victorious
Myka considered herself a light sleeper, but she never heard a sound until Helena screamed – "Bloody hell!" That woke her up for sure and when she opened her eyes, there was the cause of Helena's fright - sitting in a chair by the bed, all dressed for work.
"I would like breakfast before I go to work," Irene said, her hands crossed over the flat pocketbook.
Myka often wondered how there appeared to be very little in the purse as it was always that shape.
Myka pushed herself up against the pillows and pulled the sheets all the way up under her neck. This was a little too much exposure for her tastes. Then Myka had a dreadful thought and quickly peeked beneath the sheet and let out a sigh of relief. She was dressed. She wasn't sure how she was in her nightgown, after last night's exquisite love making, but she was.
"Good morning, Myka," Irene said and smiled. The determined guest had managed to pull a wing chair right next to Helena's side of the bed without disturbing a soul.
"Are you bloody kidding me?" Helena snapped, trying to get her bearings and her breath back.
"About which part? That I want breakfast, or that I want to go to work?" Irene asked with only the slightest telltale twinkle in her eye. She was good. She was very good.
"Could you ….. please?" Helena asked, pointing to the door.
"Yes, of course. I will meet you downstairs," Irene said pleasantly, having felt she made her point. "Sorry Myka."
"You… are…. apologizing….. to Myka?" Helena said, her accent accentuating her disbelief in the woman's nerve.
Irene looked over at Myka and then back at Helena. "Yes." Then the woman who had asked God's forgiveness in her prayers for appearing to be so ungrateful, (but explained that with all due respect to the Supreme Being, He didn't know what it was like to be with Helena when she was like this), turned back to look at Helena. "Don't worry, Helena. I have plenty to say about being injected with stem cells, and you and I are going to discuss that at length."
With that, Irene closed the door on Helena's ranting and Myka's soothing touch to calm her down. Irene truly was sorry for Myka having to start her morning off like this and didn't really like Helena getting all upset. But she knew the woman would not let her go if she went along with her plan. Irene went downstairs and greeted Leena in the kitchen. Leena told her she was surprised Helena was letting her go to work, but the Cheshire like grin on Irene's face told Leena - the Brit had no choice.
"Can you believe the nerve of that woman?" Helena balked as she sat up in bed. "I should let her go to work."
"Yes, you should," Myka said sympathetically. "You can always keep an eye on her there."
Helena thought about that. "I am so grateful for that methodical mind of yours," Helena said as she leaned in and kissed Myka's forehead.
Helena jumped up out of bed, as Myka lay back momentarily and listened as Helena grumbled – "I see what you're doing here. Think you can fool me, do you Irene Frederic? Well, you have to get up pretty early to even thing about doing that and then, it won't work. Think I don't notice how incorrigible you are being…even for you?"
Helena took her shower quickly. Myka watched as Helena emerged from the bathroom, going straight into the closet – still mumbling. In spite of being tired from a long day and a pleasantly exhausting evening, Myka rushed through her morning routine to keep up with Helena.
Helena was busy in her wardrobe room pulling her outfit for the day off of the hanger. She pulled over her head a Roberto Cavalli Intarsia tank dress in black with a bold decorative inlaid gold pattern that ran from the neckline to the hips. The sleek fitting dress that was solid black in the back, hugging Helena in all the right places, of which the toned executive had many. Helena was partial to any dress with a frontal design because it usually meant Myka would at some point run her long, slender fingers over the design and make Helena melt. The Brit was literally lost in that reverie when someone was standing there with her Jimmy Choo Lang Strappy patent leather sandals in black.
"Ms. Wells?" the shy intern said, taking the shoes out one at a time to stall for time.
"Yes?" Helena said, trying to balance herself as she put on the shoes.
"Ms. Wells, I wanted to thank you," said the female intern . "It has been a pleasure working for you."
"Well, yes I imagine …are you leaving?" Helena asked of the woman whose presence she had grown accustomed to. The young woman always knew the shoes Helena needed or the accessories.
"We are graduating soon," the woman said and she cast her eyes down, her expression one of sadness.
"Oh, well who will …?" Helena said, looking around, not sure what the interns did except handle her clothes.
"I guess some Freshmen?" the woman suggested.
"Inexperienced individuals?" Helena asked aghast with horror.
The woman shrugged sheepishly and retreated to another aisle.
Helena emerged more upset than when she went in. "Do you know they are graduating?" she asked Myka - who was putting on her Carolina Herrera green sleeveless dress with printed woven detailing throughout and a contrast grosgrain ribbon at the waist. Over it, she wore a matching inverted lapel jacket with a black button closure, flap pockets and paneled front. The jade color made Myka's eyes shine.
"Well, it is a four-year program right?" Myka asked, turning her attention to what was important – anything Helena talked about.
"What are we to…..? Who will…..? Why wasn't I informed…..? Who is in charge…..?" Helena ranted as she decided it was one of the two women in her kitchen. "Bloody hell…," she spat and was off. Myka ran to the closet, opened the door and grabbed the shoes that were dangling from the young intern's hands. "Thank you," Myka yelled trying to catch up to the disgruntled Brit.
Nothing annoyed Helena more than people in jovial moods when something just blindsided her.
"Aren't you in charge of those …. those…..closet …." - and the word evaded Helena so she turned to her Source.
"Interns," Myka said, accepting the cup of coffee from Leena.
"Interns?" Helena repeated, but with much more enthusiasm.
"Oh yes, I wanted to talk to you about that," Leena said – all excited. The wrong expression as far as Helena was concerned.
"When were you going to talk to me? When the closet was empty?" Helena asked and then turned to look at Irene – a reminder the woman thought she had one-upped her.
"You, I will deal with soon," Helena said, ready to take on an army.
"Yes, I wondered if you would like to throw a little dinner party when they graduate?" Leena said and Irene thought it was a wonderful idea.
"That would be so nice," Irene said, sipping her tea. Helena looked at her, wondering how she was drinking it with a straight face.
"Yes, why don't we just have graduation here as well?" Helena asked – factiously, but Leena grabbed her and hugged her – because that was exactly what she was hoping Helena would say.
"Thank you, Helena, thank you," Leena said and dashed out of the room.
Helena looked at Leena as she disappeared and then back at Myka and then Irene. No one said a word.
"Deal with that," Helena said smartly to Irene.
"Of course," Irene said. The woman was not about to push her boss any further than she had.
Helena's phone beeped and she looked down. "Ms. Cummings, unless you have my deal on a silver platter," Helena barked as she walked out of the room.
"The news is out. I assume she authorized it," Irene asked pushing the morning papers across the marble island to Myka.
"Yes, she did," Myka said, sipping coffee and looking at the headlines.
"Wells Tells All" read the New York Post. "Grayson's Bombshell a Dud" was splashed all over the NY Daily News.
"I take one day off and all this happens," Irene said laughing.
The kitchen door flew open with a very aggravated Brit on the other side of it. "No silver platter?" Irene whispered to Myka.
"We must be ready for the onslaught of questions today. Ms. Donovan and Mr. Lattimer will bring you up to speed on how this was executed. they have sent you emails as well. Myka, you in particular will be quite pleased with how everything was done to your specification," Helena said.
"That'll be a first," Irene said, under her breath.
"You will attend the meeting with Miss Sullivan and Dr. Nathanson, whom I have asked to come in and sign release papers or I would revisit her," Helena said, her voice straining at the thought of it.
"Ms. Sullivan is going to …yes, of course," Irene said, dropping the annoying guest routine and putting on her HR hat. This was her boss telling her something now.
The three women walked out of the townhouse with the flare of three people on a mission. Pete was waiting with the car door opened so they could wave off the news crew that begged for Helena's comments. Before entering the car, Helena stopped and microphones were pushed at her.
"I will say this," Helena said in a smooth voice and curling her lips up. "As usual, my competitor was late to the game."
"Are you angry Grayson tried to break this story, Miss Wells?" one reporter shouted.
"Angry?" Helena laughed. "A desperate attempt by a desperate man."
"Will you hand over the reins to your heir?" another asked.
"Yes, I will one day. But Miss Sullivan is not my heir. My heir…," Helena said slowly and made sure every single eye was on her before she said – " has yet to come. But it will. I assure you - my heir will."
The reporters' voices erupted with questions and flashes went off like fireworks as Helena slowly entered the car and Pete closed the door. She completely ignored the banging on the door and then got the most devilish thought. Without warning, she leaned over and kissed Myka full on the lips.
"Have I told you how much I adore you today?" Helena said sincerely. This was Helena on top of the business world and in love. The second always came first.
"No," Myka said, forgetting where they were.
"I do," Helena said again, leaning in and kissing Myka again.
"The train is very dull compared to this," Irene said smiling and catching Pete's eye in the review mirror.
"You're not taking that anymore," Helena said calmly as she looked over her emails.
"What do you mean?" Irene asked.
"You're not taking the train anymore. Mr. Lattimer is going to assign someone to you, isn't that right, Mr. Lattimer?" Helena asked all smiles.
"No! Pete? I don't …. Helena!" Irene said, but it fell on deaf ears. "I don't think annoying me is what the doctor ordered, Helena," Irene tried.
If Myka wasn't still feeling the dizzying effects of those sumptuous kisses, she may have intervened on Irene's part. She hadn't taken her eyes off Helena though, and was blissfully unaware of the argument.
"The doctor didn't save your life, now did he?" Helena smirked. The car pulled up to more reporters. Helena turned to Irene. "You may have won the battle Mrs. Frederic, but I am all about winning the war."
With that, Pete opened the door and Helena emerged smiling and waving to the reporters. Similar questions evoked similar answers – most of them designed to make Ted Grayson look foolish and Adelaide Nathanson to appear like the traitor she was. Myka admired how Helena never said a bad thing about either of them, no matter how the press tried to bait her.
"Aren't you surprised that one of your own people would try to do this?" was answered with," What surprises me is that anyone thought they could get away with it. Wells Corp has a state of the art Security and IT Teams. She didn't stand a chance."
Any question that had to do with the legality of how information was obtained was gracefully handed over to Myka. This wasn't Helena in the spotlight - this was Wells Corp in the spotlight – and Helena was treating it with kid gloves.
Helena finally put an end to the questions by thanking them for coming. No one ever thanked reporters staged outside their home or office trying to get more information.
Except someone who knew how to play to a crowd.
Eileen had stayed at Claudia's apartment so that less attention would be drawn to the Sullivan's residence out of respect for their privacy. It didn't matter, as Kathleen was working the night shift and Mr. Sullivan was on his way into the City. Eileen was not surprised to see him waiting in the hallway of Claudia's apartment with three coffees.
"Daddy, why didn't you come up?" Eileen asked.
"Good morning, darlin'. Where's my other girl? There you are Claudia. Big day?" John asked as if he didn't already know.
"Hey Mr. S," Claudia said not surprised herself. "Have I told you how adorable it is that you call him daddy?" she whispered to her girlfriend after she hugged the man.
"OK so there's a bunch of press out there. You friend Steve is out there with the car. I'm just going as far as the car," John announced. "Now remember, no one upsets my girls. Don't let them make you say anything you're not ready to say, OK?"
"Thanks Dad," Eileen said, feeling the strong hand that always made her feel safe.
"Ready girls? I should say ladies I guess?" John stopped and thought.
"No," Claudia said completely enamored by the gentle man. "Girls is good. Are good."
"Then here we go," John said, opening the door and allowing his daughter and her girlfriend to walk into the crowd.
"Ms. Sullivan, did you know you were related to Helena Wells?"
"Ms. Sullivan, will you take over the company now?"
"Ms. Sullivan, do you feel responsible for the security break at Wells by one of your own employees?"
Eileen had rehearsed a lot of answers, but not the one to that question. It insulted her and more importantly, cast aspersions on Claudia.
"The press is not your friend, Miss Sullivan," Helena repeated over and over again. "They're there to do a job, whether or not you like it."
Claudia was gently pushing Eileen ahead of her into the car, and was about to answer the reporter in a way that would have only made more headlines. Eileen could tell from Claudia's tense hold that she was upset. She had to do something. She simply thought - what would Helena do?
She pulled back out of the car and turned to Claudia and patted her hand, to let her know she had this. She took a deep breath and held her head up high.
"I take anything that happens against Wells Corp personally. Not because I am a blood relative of Ms. Wells, but because I am honored to work there. It is a privilege to work for and with the people of Wells Corp. I'm sorry that Dr. Nathanson didn't realize that. She will one day, mark my words, but it will be too late. As for my responsibility, it is and always will be determined by Ms. Wells."
And with that the newly announced Wells descendant pulled Claudia into the car with her.
"That's my girl," John Sullivan said under his breath. "That's my girl."