Open At Your Own Risk Chapter 03
At ten, Sean called a full-team meeting—design, marketing, business dev.
By the time I walked in, the only chair left was the one at the far end.
Sean looked up. “Jen, sit wherever. It doesn’t matter.”
I pulled the chair out. “Right. Doesn’t matter.”
I could see the idiot from any seat in the room.
He pulled up the deck for our fine jewelry showcase during next month’s Fashion Week.
He clicked to the last slide. My hero collection.
He paused.
“I’ve been thinking.”
Something in my stomach dropped.
Sure enough, he turned to Zoe.
“Zoe’s been helping organize things behind the scenes. She’s got a great instinct for the younger market. I think we should credit her as a co-designer on this show.”
The room went still.
Riley from design jerked her head up. Diane from business dev coughed and stared very intently at her notebook.
Zoe cradled her notebook against her chest, doing her whole shocked and honored routine. “Sean, no, I couldn’t. This is all Jenna’s work, I could never—”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
Then he turned to me, with the tone of a man handing out a favor. “Jen, you’re an established designer now. Mentoring young talent is part of the job.”
“What did she organize?”
“What?”
“You said she helped organize things. What things? Client briefs? Materials lists? Setting revisions? Stone selection?”
Zoe went white. She flipped through her notebook and mumbled, “I helped print things. And I mentioned some ideas to Sean.”
Riley let out a tiny snort and slapped her hand over her mouth.
Sean’s face darkened. “Jen, there’s no need to be cruel.”
I opened my palms. “I’m just verifying contributions.”
“The work doesn’t belong to just you.”
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
“Whose is it, then?”
His mouth tightened. “Without me landing the partnerships, your work wouldn’t be where it is.”
Zoe piped up in her softest voice. “Jenna, honestly, it’s fine. I don’t need credit.”
She said she didn’t need it while staring straight at the slide.
I closed my laptop. “Credit is off the table.”
Sean’s voice cooled. “Jen. I got the sponsors. I locked the venue. I brought in the press. You’re really going to blow this up over something this small?”
Something this small.
Six months of my life. My name. My reputation in the industry.
To him: something this small.
“You can pull my collection from the show.”
He stared. “What?”
“If the platform matters more than the work, then let the platform go strut down the runway by itself.”
Someone at the table started coughing to cover a laugh.
Sean snapped. “Jenna, don’t overestimate yourself.”
Zoe grabbed his arm, tears already spilling. “Sean, please don’t be upset. This is my fault.”
She turned to me. “Jenna, I know you don’t like me. I just wanted to prove myself. You already have everything. Why can’t you give me a chance?”
I opened my mouth to answer.
And then, from the hallway, a bright, cheerful voice.
“Do you know who I am?”
“I’m your boss’s boyfriend.”
“What do you mean I can’t come see my girl?”