The man beside me says something about the affordable housing initiative, asking a question I don't really understand. I force a smile, give some generic answer, all while my mind spins.
I need to get a hold of my racing thoughts. Vance isn’t the only person who can invest in Essence. If Victoria fucks this up for Emma, she can move on to another investor firm. It just makes me so fucking pissed that I have to deal with this shit.
My phone buzzes again. Another text from Emma.
Emma:He said he'd have an answer by next week. I think this is really happening!
The hope in her message, the pure joy—it guts me.
Because I've been in that position. Thought I had a deal locked down, only to have it fall apart for reasons I didn't see coming. Reasons that had nothing to do with the merits of my proposal and everything to do with backroom maneuvering and hidden agendas.
And Emma, brilliant as she is, doesn't know to watch for that. Doesn't know that people like Victoria treat business—and life—like a chess game, thinking five moves ahead, willing to sacrifice anything to achieve their objectives.
I type out another response, keeping my tone light and supportive even as dread pools in my stomach.
Me:I never doubted it.
Emma:I love you. See you tonight?
Me:Absolutely. And I love you too.
I set my phone down and lean back in my chair, my chest tight with anxiety.
Across the ballroom, people are beginning to leave, the luncheon winding down. I should go too, get back to the office for that three o'clock meeting, try to salvage some productivity from this disaster of a day.
But I sit there for another moment, staring at the spot where Victoria and Vance disappeared, trying to figure out my next move.
Because one thing is certain: It’s obvious Victoria is willing to do whatever it takes to continue to fuck with my life.
Chapter 16
Emma
The text from Lawrence Vance arrives Saturday afternoon while I'm at home working, finalizing a new batch of base notes.
Vance:Pleasure meeting with you Thursday. As I said, I’ll be in touch early next week with my decision.
I read it three times, my heart racing. Early next week. This is happening. This is actually happening.
I screenshot the message and text it to Poppy and Grant. Poppy immediately calls me.
"Emma, oh my God, he's going to say yes. I can feel it," she shrieks in my ear.
"Don't jinx it," I say, but I'm grinning so hard my face hurts. "He hasn't actually committed to anything yet."
"But he will. That man’s going to write you a huge check." She pauses. "We should celebrate. Drinks tonight? Oh wait, what am I thinking? You can't drink. Mocktails?"
"Actually, I think I'm just going to have a quiet night. I’ve got some stuff I need to catch up on?—"
My phone buzzes with another call. Mom. I stare at the screen, my good mood deflating.
"I’ve gotta go, girl. My mom's calling."
"Give Helen my love. And Emma? Seriously. You got this. You should be so proud of yourself."
I am, I realize. And it makes me smile.
I switch over to my mom's call. "Hey, Mom."
