Jennie

I propped my feet up on the desk and admired the aggressive point of my shoes. I'd probably be spending more time in Nike than Prada in the future. Or completely naked if Lisa had a vote.

A lot of things would be different. And the only thing standing between me and that wide-open future was walking in the door in Givenchy couture. The kind of dress you'd want to be photographed in when you were named CEO.

Irene stopped short when she spotted me behind her desk but recovered quickly.

"Jennie? What are you doing here?" she asked, pulling off her oversized sunglasses and scanning the room.

"I'm just here to congratulate my very best friend on her new promotion," I said. "CEO. Are you sure you're ready for it?"

All innocence and feigned confusion evaporated like a snake shedding its skin. "I've been ready for it for years. So has the rest of the company. You have no vision, no drive."

"Oh, and you do?" I laughed. "You work maybe twenty-five hours a week, and that's if I count your 'working' lunches. Your team does all of the heavy lifting. You're lazy. You're entitled. And you have no loyalty."

"That's rich," she laughed mirthlessly.

I felt like I was in some overly dramatic soap opera.

"I've done more for this brand than anyone else, including you. You'd still be in the lab playing with pipettes if I hadn't gotten you out of there."

I rolled my eyes. "So you're a delusional backstabber? Fun. Tell me, did La Sophia actually expect you to work for them, or were they just buying my formula with a salary and a fake title?"

"They paid outright for the formula. A salary and title were the bonus," Irene said. She dropped her bag on a console table and rummaged through it, producing a compact. "But that's peanuts compared to being CEO of Flawless. You really should be going, by the way. I have a meeting with my board."

"Yeah, about that," I said, offering up a fake wince. I took my feet off her desk and rose. "That meeting is going to go a little differently than you expected."

She stopped lining her lips long enough to sneer in my direction.

"Now, what little fantasy world are you living in? I know they asked for your resignation. You don't believe that you're still in charge, do you?" She pouted. "Boo, so sad."

"Oh, I'm not in charge anymore, Irene. At least not after this last little task. The board gave me one more thing to do before I leave."

"What's that? Pack your things? I'll take those lovely little chocolates so you don't have to carry them home."

"You're fired, Irene. Flawless no longer requires your 'services.'"

Her eyes went hard. And for the first time, I saw her. Really saw her. Beneath the extensions, the fake lashes, the makeup. She was plain. That would have grated on her.

"Just for fun. What did you hate me for the most? That I always got the attention when we went out? That I had a trust fund? That I made straight As? Because I know it didn't start with Flawless. You've always hated me."

Efficiently, she capped her lipstick and tucked it back in her bag.

All masks gone. "You don't deserve a damn thing," she hissed. "You think just being born into a trust fund makes you worthy or interesting? It doesn't." She took a step toward me, and I crossed my arms so I wouldn't belt her one.

"You could have had so much more. All you had to do was work for it. Earn it. But you didn't. I gave you a title and a team, and you still couldn't do the work. You're no better than Bobby, just expecting a handout everywhere you go. It's pathetic."

"Pathetic? Fuck you, Jennie. Pathetic is you locking yourself in a lab or an office and living and dying by data. You don't deserve your fortune. It's wasted on you."

"Hard work is never wasted. You barely made it through college. Without my help, you would have failed out. And without my generosity, you certainly wouldn't be where you are now."

"Generosity? You reminded me at every turn that you thought you were better than me. I hate you," she hissed.

"That's a shame. Because I really cared for you." I had. And I'd mistaken her consistency in my life for loyalty.

"You don't care about anyone or anything," she accused.

"That's not true. I care about Lisa."

"And I took her away from you," she said smugly.

"No, you didn't. You can't destroy real loyalty, Irene."

"Do you know what she whispered in my ear when she fucked me?" Irene said, taking another step closer. We were eye-to-eye, and, oh, I wanted to break that surgically straightened nose of hers.

A movement behind her in the door caught my attention. Lisa, face full of fury, hovered in the doorway. I shook my head slightly, but she didn't budge. Then Alison was pulling at her arm. Pushing her. And when that didn't work, she jumped on her back and clamped an arm around her neck.

I almost laughed. Almost.

"See, Irene. You can't even be bothered to do your own homework. I know Lisa didn't sleep with you."

"How can you ever be sure? How can you ever know that she's not lying to you?"

I leaned in, gleefully. "She doesn't whisper anything in bed. She's very vocal. And you're not her type."

Irene scoffed. "You just keep telling yourself fairy tales. I've taken men away from you before. Why would Lisa Manoban be any different? You saw the pictures."

"My attorney also had a conversation with the photographer you hired to take those photos. Oh, and she spoke with Nina Nowak who had a lot of interesting things to say about you and your 'generosity.' Lisa's team tracked down all of those helpful college classmates from the articles. They all had suspicious deposits to their bank accounts. Ten thousand dollars each? Isn't that a little light for a soon-to-be CEO?"

"Go fuck yourself, Jennie," Irene spat. She was losing her cool, her confidence. And that's usually when she lashed out.

"And then there's La Sophia. They have one hour to issue a public apology and abandon their claim to my patent. I imagine they'll want that payment they gave you back. So what it all comes down to is you have nothing, Irene. Exactly what you deserve."

"You fucking cunt. At least I stripped you of that title you were so proud of. At least I have that." She gritted her teeth.

It still wasn't enough for her. I could see it in her eyes, shiny with rage.

"Funny story. I didn't actually resign. I orchestrated a buyout. A very generous one. Oh, and Lisa and I are partners now. In her firm and my lab," I said cheerfully. "So it all worked out really well for me. I should get you a thank you card."

I could hear her teeth grinding.

"I hate you. I've always hated you. You should have been in that car. You should have died, too." Her nostrils flared.

"I've been meaning to ask you about that. Did you really want me to die, or was there another game you were playing?"

Her smile was unhinged. "I had cameras set up in his room. I could have gotten a nice payout for a sex tape starring Jennie fucking Kim."

I was disgusted. This time it was Alison who appeared in the doorway, brandishing a stun gun. Lisa hooked her around the waist, but she grabbed on to both sides of the doorway and silently wrestled for freedom.

"Instead, your meal ticket died because a bartender I didn't know took care of me like a friend should have."

"You always land on your goddamn feet, and I am so fucking sick of it! When is it my turn?" she raged.

"Never. Because you're not good enough."

She slapped me. Hard. The sound of flesh connecting to flesh echoed off the glass.

"Aw, is that the best you can do?" I asked.

On a howl of rage, she charged me, raking her nails down my arm and throwing an elbow in my jaw. I saw stars, but it was enough. I'd finally drawn a line I wouldn't allow her to cross.

I wound up and plowed my fist into that pretty, pretty nose of hers.

She went down like a bag of hammers.

"Damn, that hurts without gloves," I muttered, shaking out my hand.

The office flooded with people. Lisa and Alison ran in, followed closely by building security.

Lisa stepped over Irene and gathered me in her arms.

"Are you hugging me or stopping me from hitting her again?" I asked over the commotion.

She pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "Both. Are you all right?"

She nudged my chin up and looked at the blooming mark on my jaw. Her hands slid down my arms, and she frowned fiercely at the bleeding scratches.

"I'm pretty freaking great, Manoban."

"In that case, I think we need to schedule a meeting," she said.

"About what?"

"About the prospect of a joint venture."

"We're already fifty-fifty partners."

She squeezed my arms. "Marriage, Jennie. I want to marry you."

"Did Alison deprive your brain of oxygen too long?"

"Yes."

I grinned up at her and brushed a kiss over her mouth. "I'm willing to discuss the potential benefits of a… merger sometime in the future. But first, I want the biggest pitcher of Bloody Marys available to mankind."

"I'm never going to get to use this stun gun," Alison whined, standing over Irene's wailing form.

Lisa's smile faded. "Jennie, there's something else you need to know. Irene wasn't working alone."

I stopped her with a hand to her chest. "I know. I'll deal with it later."

The washroom door opened, and Byul, the unflappable journalist, stepped out. "Is it safe to come out?" she asked, eyeing Irene who was screeching about lawsuits through the hands that covered her bleeding face.

"Byul, I'd almost forgotten you were in there," I said cheerfully. "Oh, and your recorder was on this whole time. How embarrassing." I handed it to her.

"Florida is two-party consent," Irene snapped as security hauled her to her feet. Beautiful, big drops of blood dripped onto the white crepe of her dress. "You can't record me without my knowledge. Miss Goody Two Shoes should have known that," she said snidely.

"Well, we can't. But the SEC can if they suspect fraud is being committed. Have you met Agent Busto?" I asked.

On cue, one of the men who had entered with security stepped up. He had a shaved head and a neck nearly the same circumference. "Ms. Bae?" he said with all the charm of a grumpy Steve when Frank the macaw refused to shut up. "The SEC has a few questions for you about your dealings with La Sophia."