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“I don’t remember. It was months ago.”

Tia Rose turned to another page and asked again, and then she began to explain on every page, where every scene was shot and from her own camera.

“I have those pictures on my thumb drive and in a file. If you were smart, instead of a conniving bimbo, when you stole all my designs, all my months of hard work, then you should have taken the photos, too, and brushed up on your geography.”

“You’re claiming my work as your own? How dare you? I don’t have to sit here and take this.” Bethany began to rise, and then Tia Rose placed her hand on Bethany’s shoulder and smiled wickedly at her. It felt so good.

“Please stay. I think everyone will want to hear about this trip to Hawaii for research to do this scene. That was back in February during the blizzard here in New York, right?” Tia Rose asked, and then turned to another page, where there was a gorgeous winter scene that could be seen through the windows of a formal living room. The fireplace mantel was Tia Rose’s design.

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She slammed her hand down on the magazine.

“These are my ideas, my concept, my creations, and not yours.”

“Tia Rose. That is quite the allegation,” Mrs. Sinclair stated.

“Bernadette, be quiet. Let Tia Rose state her case,” Cade stated. Tia Rose felt her cheeks warm. She looked around the room. She saw the stunned expressions. None of them would believe her. They would believe Bethany.

“Mrs. Sinclair, I mean no disrespect when I say this, but if you think Bethany created these designs and worked for months to come up with a mock catalogue on her own, then you’re not as in tune to your loyal employees as I always thought you were.”

Bernadette gasped. Cade smiled.

“She’s out of her mind. She should be fired,” Bethany stated.

Tia Rose took a deep breath and looked around the room. “You all know about the lies, the practical jokes, and mean and hurtful things Bethany has done to me since I started working for Malone’s. But you also know Bethany. Who is the one who is always staying late, never taking vacation time, and always there to help each and every one of you when you drop the ball, fall short with your deadlines, or need a bit of creative advice?”

She looked at them then pointed to herself.

“Me.”

“She’s insane. She shouldn’t be here,” Bethany stated.

“Maybe we should call security,” Mark suggested.

“Don’t bother. I quit. But I’m taking my catalogue, my pictures, and my hard work along with me. If you try to steal my ideas, I’ll slap a lawsuit on your tiny stuck-up ass so fast you won’t know what hit you. And I can do that. Because I edited every picture, design, and concept in this magazine. You should learn how to do the job you’ve been getting paid nearly two Gs to do, Bethany. Kiss my ass.”

Tia Rose felt so triumphant that she wanted to fist pump and scream “hell yeah.” But as she grabbed her bag and scooped up the catalogue, not bothering to look around, she heard the others begin to speak as Bernadette demanded that she stay. She turned to listen. Everyone was making comments, admitting that Tia Rose helped them all along and they knew Bethany was using her. Everyone knew that Bethany continued to steal Tia’s ideas.

Then Mr. Sinclair spoke up.

“Everyone quiet down, and, Tia Rose, please sit back down.”

Everyone did as he said but Tia remained standing.

“I won’t stay, sir. I won’t stand here and continue to be used. I can’t stand the jokes, the nastiness, and backstabbing. I’m not that kind of person. If that’s the type of employees you want here at Malone’s, then I think I should hand in my resignation and look for a job elsewhere.” As she said the words, her belly did a series of deep twists and turns. She felt like vomiting, which would totally kill her triumphant moment of standing up to Bethany and telling her off.

Bernadette leaned over to her husband and whispered into his ear. Just then security entered the room. Someone had called them.

Oh my God, I’m going to be escorted out of the meeting and probably out of the building. I’ll be fired, I’ll have no job, and I won’t be able to pay that stupid rent. I won’t be able to send the money to my parents. He’ll kill me. He’ll haunt me every hour of every day until I send that money. Oh my God, why did I do this?

“Thank you for coming so quickly. Please remove Miss Tyler from the room. Escort her to her office, have her clean out her desk, and then accompany her outside of the building. She is no longer an employee here.”

Bethany gasped as the two security men approached.

“I don’t believe this. I can’t believe that you would take that fat bitch’s side over mine. I fit here. I have style, class, and a great body. She’s fat, has no spine, and wouldn’t know what to do in the presence of designers,” Bethany stated.

“Remove her,” Mr. Sinclair repeated.


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