Page 10 of Love Marks

“A girl, that’s what,” I say, despite myself. Quinn Taylor’s expressive face flashes through my mind again and I’m filled with that deep rage, that twisted feeling in my gut.

“This should be good,” he chuckles.

I take a deep breath.

“You know how the paparazzi have been following me for the past two months? Ever since we started the transition of me taking over. Well, I realized they were tailing me last night. They were waiting outside The Phoenix to see who I was going to meet.”

“You sound paranoid,” Ben says.

“Don’t gaslight me, bro. They were there.”

“Alright, jeez. I forgot you double majored in psych. What happened after that?” He asks.

“I called George and told him I was going to leave the contract signed at the restaurant and leave so they’d follow me, and he could pick up the final contracts. He dropped the copy of the signed contracts first thing this morning, before the story broke, thank God.”

“So, the deal’s still on?” He clarifies.

“Yes. Hyatt Marks Properties are a go. George as CFO and me as CEO,” I sigh.

“How the hell did you manage that?” Ben asks.

I hear Luna yell out from behind him and he shushes her. She’s learned to scream even louder than she used to, which I didn’t think was possible.

“Basically? He has majority shares, and he’s making more money,” I reply. “Anyway, that’s not the point. I left it with her — the hostess. She leaked the story.”

“Who cares? The deal is still on. Mom will move on. A new scandal will replace this in two days. You’re golden,” Ben says, his voice light. He always was the optimist of the two of us.

“I’m in a lot of shit with George. Plus, the press is going to be even more on my ass now,” I argue.

“You know you love the attention, big bro. Gotta go — the demon child is calling.” Ben hangs up on me and I stare down at the receiver.

A voice in my head tells me that Ben is right. This could certainly be worse. At least the contracts were already signed and filed before George could try and pull out of the deal. Still, my mom’s voice rattles in my mind.

I feel like I’ve failed.

Squeezing the stress ball, none of my anger seems to dissipate. In fact, it just grows. The feeling of betrayal stings all over — of Quinn Taylor’s betrayal. One girl thinks she can destroy my family. My legacy. My life.

“Get me the owner of The Phoenix in Tribeca. Now,” I call out to Beverly, my voice hard.

I know what I have to do.

Chapter 4

Quinn

I don’t remember much of the rest of the day. After I say my not-goodbye to Manny, I wander around the city in a haze. I walk all the way from Tribeca uptown, stumbling around for blocks before I finally realize where I am. Union Square. I sit at one of the benches and watch an elderly couple play chess. Should I start being one of these people now that I’m unemployed?

At least I still have my second job cleaning for the Milton’s uptown. I consider calling Mrs. Milton and asking for extra shifts cleaning but think better of it. I just need to get another job.

I finally make my way to the train and start my journey home. On the ride back to Brooklyn, my anger starts to set in. How could Pierre fire me just like that? I thought we were friends. Or as close to friends as a boss and employee could be. Why would Ian set me up to take the fall? He must have been the one to leak the story, but why? I roll my eyes at the dramatics.

They really just fired me, just like that. I loved that job, and they didn’t give a shit about me. I may not have had Chanel shoes like the other hostesses, but I showed up and I did my job. If I’d actually done the thing they accused me of, I would have quit myself, but to simply be wrongly accused of something I didn’t do…it’s not right. It’s not fair.

Life’s not fair, dumbass.

I know that. I guess it’s one thing to know something on a rational level and a whole other to experience it on an emotional one. The latter has my blood boiling. I suddenly remember what Ian said — Mr. Marks specifically requested your termination. He must mean Wesley. I drop my head into my hands. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. Not only am I unemployed, but my closest thing to a Prince Charming hates my guts.

I take solace in the fact that I’ll never see him again. A pang hits me in the chest at the realization. I don’t know why — it’s not like I even knew the guy. Still, his words ring in my ears like a children’s taunt.