Page 9 of Tailored for You

That was what I wanted. I wanted to walk down the street holding Harper’s and Serena’s hands in each of mine, doing school drop-offs, and taking care of them.

Then, at night, I’d come home, and they’d be there. My girls.

Soon enough, I’d have that. It had been nearly a year since Marcello left, and I’d taken control of New York. Everything was almost in place, from the men to the company.

I stood, leaving the little cafe, and followed Serena, keeping my distance so she wouldn't spot me, as she made her way to the gym. Once I knew she was there safe, I came back to my car and drove home.

As COO of Panorama, I handled operations for the entire company. I helped put the pieces together, ensuring everything fit like a puzzle, and when changes were needed, I determined how to make them.

That also meant handling it when people did stupid shit.

Which was why I had to sit in this suffocating office, listening to team leads argue about something I couldn’t remember because their arguing had devolved well past work issues into discreet digs at each other. The human resources woman sat in the corner, patiently waiting for a chance to jump in and de-escalate the situation.

I had no such patience. “Stop,” I said loud and firm. “Let’s pretend I’m not a complete idiot and don’t hear office gossip. You,” I said, turning to the man. I was so tired I couldn’t remember his name, but it didn’t matter. “You cannot take personal matters and emotions out in the workplace. She said no. That is within her rights. For you to start nitpicking everything she does on every project when her work is exceptional has moved to harassment.”

It was a tale as old as time. An older man hits on a young, pretty woman in the workplace, and when she says no he starts making her life hell. That wasn’t something I’d allow, and I’d created strong company policies that left no room for misinterpretation.

Normally, I wouldn’t be invested in day-to-day workings like this, but this was different. This was a lawsuit waiting to happen, and there would be a lot of eyes on us if this situation wasn’t handled swiftly and correctly.

We didn’t suffer fools, in Panorama or the Cosa Nostra.

I handed him the termination letter, unwilling to listen to him fight for his job. The head of Human Resources took over and escorted him out.

Two minutes later, my door opened again, and a young woman walked in.

I gave her a moment to come to terms with what happened and said, “This isn’t your fault. It’s his.” I was going to find that idiot and make him scared to look at another woman again, not that she needed to know that. “I wish you had spoken up sooner, but I understand why you didn’t. If he approaches you again, whether it's a week from now or years later, I want to know so I can handle it for you.”

She smiled and nodded, but didn’t say anything, and walked out.

Firing him was the acceptable response for some, maybe even going as far as blacklisting him, which I’d do as well. I didn’t care what people would accept, because most weren’t willing to do what needed to be done when men abuse their power and cross lines.

I had no more energy to deal with people, so I texted one of my men, ordering them to have a conversation with the fired man, off the books, and sent another to get the car ready.

The two kids—barely nineteen, hardly adults—pulled the car around, tripping over themselves to open the door.

“Don’t bother me unless you have to,” I said, closing my eyes and thinking of Serena.

Of her smile.

The way she hummed pop songs while she worked when she thought she was alone.

What kind of bad joke she might tell.

What sounds she’d make when I finally had her under me, moaning for me, with my hands tangled in her hair.

With thoughts of Serena, my imagination running wild, I dozed off.

CHAPTER 4

Serena

The tiny bell tinkled as I walked through the door and into the coffee shop. The aroma of coffee filled the air, and I wanted to inject the caffeine into my veins. It had been a long but productive day, and it was barely noon.

I had done the shopping—from getting the fabric to personal shopping for my clients—so my morning was off to a great start.

The fabric was getting delivered to my studio in an hour, since there was no way I could carry that much, but I was only a few blocks from home, so I had time.

The sun was shining, and I was going to treat myself to an expensive chai latte and something sweet. There was a glass case of sweet treats that made my mouth water. Slipping my headphones off, I got in line.