Page 5

“I know. Lovey-dovey. Sentimental. Sappy. I can do that.”

“This is important, Darcy. If you want to prove you can fill my shoes, it starts with this press conference.”

“I won’t let you down.” I turned on my heel and left his office, my mind already running through the thousand things I needed to accomplish before three o’clock. This was my moment. Once I made the announcement, things would start happening.

My office was smaller than my father’s but no less meticulously organized. Every file in its place. Every surface clear except for the items I deemed necessary. A laptop. A phone. A single framed photo of my mother that I kept facing away from visitors.

That picture was for my eyes only.

I settled into my chair and pulled up the press conference notes on my computer. The PR team had sent over a draft of my remarks yesterday, and I’d already read through them four times. Five wouldn’t hurt. It’d be great if I didn’t have to look at the teleprompter at all.

Fall in Love collection. Twelve unique engagement ring designs. Ethically sourced diamonds. Modern settings with classic elegance. Available in two weeks, just in time for the holiday proposal season.

I mouthed the words as I read, feeling them settle into my muscle memory. Public speaking wasn’t my strong suit. I was better behind the scenes, making decisions that made money rather than standing in front of cameras trying to look all warm and fuzzy. The kind of person who sold love for a living.

I never claimed to be a saleswoman. No happy couple wanted to walk into one of our stores and see me standing behind the glass cases. I didn’t sell the whole fantasy. I didn’t kiss ass and tell every potential bride she was lucky. I didn’t ooh and ahh when I heard the proposal stories.

Blah, blah, blah.

This was my moment. Today was my chance to show the world that Corwin Gems wasn’t just my father’s company anymore. I was stepping up. There was a new sheriff in town.

Unfortunately, people would be watching and judging every move I made the first year. And it all started with the press conference. I refused to be seen as a product of nepotism. I earned the job through blood, sweat, and tears. That didn’t matter, though. I still had to prove I was worthy.

And once I did, I would hit the ground running. I had big plans for growing the company. My father had lectured me many times about making too many changes too fast. He was stuck in the last decade. Changes were necessary.

The hours slipped by faster than I expected. Meetings blurred together. Budget reviews. Marketing approvals. A brief argument with our head designer. All the nonsense tedious stuff that I would eventually delegate once I moved into my father’s chair.

Before I knew it, my assistant, Margot, was knocking on my door.

“It’s two forty-five, Ms. Corwin. They’re ready for you in the conference room.”

I stood, smoothing down my blazer. Navy blue today. Professional but not severe. The stylists had suggested something softer, maybe a blush pink, something that said romance and engagement rings and love.

I’d told them where they could shove their blush pink.

“The teleprompter?” I asked as I walked past Margot into the hallway.

“All set up. PR loaded your statement this morning. They made some minor changes to the phrasing, but you just have to read it.” She fell into step beside me, her tablet clutched to her chest. “They’ve also prepared some talking points in case anyone asks about the lawsuit.”

“No one’s asking about the lawsuit.”

“Right. Of course.” She nodded quickly. “But just in case.”

“There is no just in case, Margot. We’re announcing the Fall in Love collection. That’s the story. That’s the only story. No one gives a shit about llamas. They’ll ask questions about the direction of the company. That’s what they care about.”

She nodded again, wisely choosing silence.

The conference room had been transformed into a press staging area. Rows of chairs filled with journalists. Camera crews positioned along the walls. A podium at the front with the Corwin Gems logo displayed prominently behind it.

And there, mounted just below eye level where the audience couldn’t see it, was the teleprompter.

I took a breath. Squared my shoulders. Walked to the podium with my heels clicking out a steady rhythm. The room quieted.

“Good afternoon,” I said, my voice clear and controlled. “Thank you all for being here today.”

My eyes went to the screen that looked like a toddler had finger painted on the damn thing. It was smudged all to hell.

No worries. I didn’t really need it. It was nothing more than a crutch.