Page 106 of Under Her

“Possibly. But, however they did it, they beat us to the punch.”

“Fuck. We should have announced sooner.”

I wanted to announce, but Morgan said we should wait until production was underway.

Morgan.

She’s going to be devastated. This was her deal. Her idea.

“I need to call Morgan,” I tell Mom. “Let her know what’s happening.”

“And call Niran while you’re at it. See if he can push production forward. We might be able to salvage this if we can get our line out before Coveted releases theirs. It’s not ideal, but it’s all we’ve got left.”

“You’re right. I’ll get on it straightaway. I’ll call you back when I know more.”

I hang up with Mom and dial straight through to Morgan’s office.

Sierra answers, “Hi, Wilder. She’s in a meeting with HR at the moment. I can get her to call you when she’s done if you’d like.”

“How long has she been in the meeting?”

“Oh, thirty minutes or so.”

I could get her to interrupt, but something stops me. “Okay. Just get her to call me the second she’s out.”

“Will do.”

I hang up and tap my fingers on the desk.

I really do need to talk to Morgan, but honestly, the thought of telling her makes me want to puke. I know how gutted she’s going to be.

Totally different circumstance because this isn’t Morgan’s fault, but I remember when I screwed up the Renshaw deal. I felt like shit for ages afterward.

Maybe I could call Niran myself and see how things stand with moving production forward. I could get him to a workable date that would bring us ahead of Coveted’s release. It wouldn’t fix things, but at least it would cushion the blow for her.

It’s morning here, so it’s late in Thailand, but I need to speak with him. I pick up my phone and dial the cell number I have for Niran.

He answers on the fourth ring.

“Niran, it’s Wilder Cross. I’m sorry to call so late.”

“It’s fine! No problem at all. It is good to hear from you. I wanted to speak to you, say how sorry I was to hear that your company no longer required your order—”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Your order of silk. Morgan called me, oh, a few days ago to cancel. She said that you had found a cheaper supplier and would be purchasing from them. I was very disappointed to find that out because I thought we could do great business together, but I couldn’t go any lower on the price.”

“She canceled the order? Morgan did?”

“Yes. I have it in writing, too. She emailed it to me after we talked on the telephone.”

I can’t breathe. I’m having a heart attack. Or a panic attack. Or both.

Fuck.

“Wilder? Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m still here. So, let me get this straight.” I rub my fingers against the pressure building in my forehead. “You’re telling me that Morgan—my Morgan, Morgan Stickford—called you up a few days ago and canceled our order of silk. And that she confirmed it in writing on the same day.”