The three of them chuckle, and Dad rolls his eyes. “Don’t you think we feel much the same way? We don’t want to think about you all having sex either. Those arrangements are fine, but I will be taking Emma and Molly with me. Actually, while we’re all here, and I hope you don’t mind if I change the subject to something personal for a moment, Cole, I have something I want to talk about with my family.”
“Do you want me to leave?” Cole asks, but Dad shakes his head.
“No, that’s fine. You need to know about it anyway. I would like to ask Emma and Molly to move in with me, and although I am not asking your permission, it would be nice if you all gave us your blessing. I know it’s quick, but those two women have made me happier in the last few months than I have been in years.”
The room bursts into noise, everyone assuring Dad how happy we are for him and that we would love for them to move in with him.
“Molly and Emma are both pregnant,” Dad eventually tells Cole. To his credit, our new PR manager doesn’t even flinch at the news. He smiles and holds out his hand, a perfect professional.
“Well, I guess congratulations are in order. That’s great, Brad. Let me know when the three of you want to sit down and discuss a strategy for dealing with the press.”
“I guess we need to be in that meeting too.” Harlow raises her hand, and Cole swings around to look at her.
“You too?” he asks, surprised.
“Ah, yeah, I’m not sure if you were briefed on the exact things that happened to Jax and me during our kidnapping…”
Cole’s surprise turns to anger, and he nods. “Yes, I was.”
“Well, Peter’s big plan was to create an heir to the fortune.” Harlow shakes her head in disbelief. “Somehow, and I have no clue how, he succeeded.”
“And how do you feel about this?” Cole asks carefully, and I’m kind of surprised by the gentleness in his voice—no judgment, only sympathy. Harlow exchanges looks with my six brothers before smiling.
“Surprised but happy,” she replies, reflexively putting her hand on her belly.
“Good, well, let me know how you want to proceed. Do we want people to speculate, or do you want to control it and make the announcement yourselves? I’ll work with whatever you want to do.”
Shortly after that, the meeting wraps up, and instead of hanging around and chatting like everyone else is, I tell Nana I’ll meet her in the conference room on the Couture level. I make my escape before Cole can pin me down. As I close the door, I feel his eyes on me, and even though I get the urge to hunch, I straighten my back and stride out, looking calm and collected.
There’s no way he knows I’m faking it for all I’m worth.
ChapterTwelve
Jacinta
When the elevator opens on Couture level, I wave at our front office girl who stands up and passes me a cup of coffee.
“Thanks, Susie, this is just what I needed.” I take it from her, and she beams.
“Emma and Molly are in the conference room, and the first interviewee is downstairs in the foyer, waiting to be called up,” she informs me.
“Okay, I just need to pop into my office, then I’ll head in. Give me ten minutes before you call down to the front desk to send them up.”
“Will do.” She sits back down as I head off. I gave up my original office to Molly and Emma since I’m very rarely here. I took one of the small designer offices next to Rowena and Jace. Both of their doors are open, but neither of them are in, so I make it past without being delayed. Slamming open the door to my office, I quickly enter and shut it, flipping the lock behind me. My body is shaking and my heart is racing as I lean against the door. It took everything I had to hold my shit together until I got into my room.
“Fuck!” I drop all my bags on the floor, place the coffee cup on the table, and sink down into the small sofa I have for guests. Grabbing a throw pillow, I shove it over my head and scream and scream, letting out everything that threatened to bubble up and out at the meeting. I can’t believe Cole was the masked man who rocked my world on Halloween night! How am I ever going to be able to work with him now? Then there’s all the publicity he wants us to do. The thought of all those eyes on me makes me sick. Literally.
I jump off the couch and sprint to my little attached bathroom, dropping to my knees. The back split in my pencil skirt tears in my haste, but I’m too busy expelling the contents of my stomach to care. Over and over, I heave up all the tea I had this morning until there’s nothing left to come up.
Breathing hard, I sit back on my ankles, the points of my heels poking into my ass and the stench of vomit filling the bathroom. I take a moment to breathe, then I can’t stand the acrid taste in my mouth any longer. A minute later, I’ve rinsed my mouth out and am examining myself in the mirror. I look like shit. There are no other words for it, which means I’m going to have to duck into the Wardrobe to fix myself because I don’t have any makeup here. Luckily, the split in my skirt hasn’t traveled far enough for it to be indecent.
I have no idea how I’m going to get through all those media events. Thankfully, I’ll attend most of them with the others as a buffer, but I’m dreading what Cole has Hope and me attending on our own. Of course, I don’t have time to continue my meltdown. I have a press conference and the interviews I need to get through, and I’m not going to be able to do that on my own. Without a second thought, I grab the coke out of my bag and line it up on my desk. Subconsciously, I know what I’m doing is wrong, but I can’t bring myself to care. At the moment, it’s the only thing getting me through my days. I’ll worry about any aftermath later.
Leaning over, I quickly inhale the two small lines before cleaning up, storing the baggie in my top desk drawer in case I need another hit before the press conference. For the second time today, luck is on my side, so I make it to the Wardrobe, my laptop and portfolio in hand, unseen.
Going to the makeup section, I fix my tear-ravaged face and redo my hair before stripping off my skirt. Considering I’m in just my thong, top, and heels, I cross my fingers, hoping that nobody comes in while I’m doing this. Once the rip is repaired, I stand up, and that’s when my luck ends. I knock a box of thread to the ground and start to scramble around, picking them all up. I freeze, ass up, of course, when I hear the door to the Wardrobe open.
Why does this shit fucking happen to me?
