“What the hell?” I tear my eyes away from the threat and find Jaxon’s. “What the fuck is wrong with your sister?” I demand.
Frowning, all three men stand up and Dad reaches over, pulling the box into the middle of the table so they can all see.
“Oh my word,” Nana gasps, a hand coming up to grip at the necklace around her neck.
“That’s not Jacinta,” Jaxon declares, and Declan nods his head in agreement. “She would never threaten one of the horses. Ever.”
“She also adamantly denies tampering with the saddle or pushing you into the pool,” Declan adds in, and Dad frowns at them before looking at me.
“You really thought it might be Jacinta doing those things?” He sounds a little surprised, and I shrug my shoulders, my heart still thudding in my chest from the threat against DS.
“How was I to know? She hasn’t exactly been welcoming, and the billboard was all her.”
Dad and Nana exchange a glance, but before they can say anything, Jaxon quickly rushes to her defense. “I get how you might think that, but I never suspected it was her. She has done some crazy shit in the past, but it’s never devolved to physical threats or violence.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to agree with Jaxon.” Dad runs a hand through his hair, looking severely uncomfortable with this entire line of conversation. “Pranks and catty comments are Jacinta’s MO, I will readily admit that, but she would never do this. I’m sorry you thought it was her, and I hope you two can get to a place where a suspicion like that wouldn’t cross your mind again. This seems like someone has an agenda against you, and we need to get to the bottom of it before it escalates further. The two incidents yesterday were already too far, but I had other things on my mind at dinner last night. I should’ve pushed for us to call the police then, but I have to insist on it now.”
“Yeah, okay, I think maybe that’s not a bad idea,” I agree, my breathing easing with the suggestion.
“Can you make the call? We should also have security pull up surveillance tapes so that we can look out for whoever delivered the box,” he adds, looking to Jaxon and Declan.
The latter is already standing and pulling his phone out of his pocket, his brow creased in concern. “I’ll go right now. Don’t worry, Harlow, I know a local detective. I’ll get him to come over and take your statement, then you don’t have to go down to the precinct.”
He rushes out of the room without saying anything else, and my mind is left reeling with everything that’s happened in the last few minutes: my anonymous “gift,” the news that Dad doesn’t believe it’s Jacinta, Declan being… nice? That last one might be the strangest pill to swallow right now, though that might also be my mind’s way of avoiding thinking of the threat made against my poor DS. Nana pats me on the hand reassuringly, a small smile on her lips.
“Come on, dear, we still need to interview those few designers. Let’s go and do that so we can keep your mind occupied until the police get here.”
“What about that?” I gesture to the offensive box.
“Just leave it there. They may be able to get some fingerprints or something off of it,” Dad tells me as I stand up.
I say goodbye to both Dad and Jaxon, the two men waving distractedly as they discuss who might be leaving threats and why. From what I overhear as we walk away, they’re talking about people they may have pissed off business-wise. But then why target me?
Nana pats my arm, giving me a squeeze before she lets go. “You can worry about all of this later. Let’s not worry about it for now.”
Shaking my head, I focus on the task ahead of us. “So what exactly does one look for in a designer? Why are we doing this if you’re not replacing Jacinta?”
Nana scoffs, “We’d never replace her unless she wanted it, but wearelooking to add someone else to the team. She will remain CEO and head designer, and the person we hire will work closely with her. We’ll look at their portfolio, but it’s more about us trying to gauge what kind of person they are and whether they will be a good mesh with Jacinta.”
I grunt, not thinking that this sounds fun at all. “So do we have any prickly cacti interviewing today?”
Nana’s peals of laughter echo down the corridor as we make our way back to the reception desk.
“Who knows? Maybe.”
Chapter Eighteen
Harlow
Two hours and countless designers later, my head is pounding and my brain has ceased to exist. Thank fuck Dad doesn’t actually want me to be a part of one of the businesses. I think I would shrivel up and die if I had to deal with such shallow, vapid creatures every day.
Nana handles it like a pro, fluffing their egos and getting them to engage, but so far we’ve picked one woman. Personally, I thought she was a stuck up cow, but Nana really liked her drawings even if her personality was lacking.
“Jacinta is strong enough to deal with all of that,” she assures me. “Don't forget this is her chosen business. She helped build it from the ground up, and although she doesn't enjoy dealing with the egos, she’s a pro at it. We’ll give her a trial.”
The woman was a little older than me, maybe in her early thirties. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in a severe bun against the back of her head, and her blue eyes looked cold behind her artfully applied makeup. Her painfully thin body was wrapped in a pencil skirt and a beautiful off the shoulder top teamed with sky high heels with a range of buckles and straps. But her smile looked like a sneer, and I could see her judging me when she scanned my body as I stood up to shake her hand. But that quickly cleared when Nana introduced me as her granddaughter who was filling in for Jacinta while she was on a break.
I clenched my teeth through the whole interview as Nana asked Rowena questions about her qualifications and experiences, and she responded in an overenthusiastic and insincere way. To be honest, I only agreed because I think she’s going to give Jacinta hell, which she certainly deserves. At least it’s only a trial, so she can be let go at the end. Who knows? They may get on like a house on fire. We’ll have to wait and see.
