I Won’t Be Stand-In Anymore

Five minutes earlier, Ethan had messaged me saying he was on the lower deck wrapping up an important deal. He told me not to come down.

I worried his ulcer was acting up again, so I grabbed a thermos of hot soup and went to find him.

The door wasn't shut all the way. The laughter spilled out through the gap.

"Eth, you're dropping a million on Celeste's gallery? That designer girlfriend of yours isn't going to lose her mind?"

Ethan's voice came back, easy, indifferent.

"What grounds does she have to lose her mind?"

"Celeste just came back to the States. She needs a career to lean on. Emily's been living off me for five years, eating on my dime, sleeping under my roof. I'll open a studio for her later, once I've made my money back."

Someone jeered.

"Come on, Eth. Emily's work? She could pull half a million freelancing, easy. You've been getting her for free this whole time."

"Don't call it free. That sounds ugly."

Ethan gave a low, derisive laugh.

"She was always Celeste's stand-in. I've kept her around five years. That's more mercy than she deserves."

"All it takes is me pulling a long face. She doesn't just forget the investment. She pulls an all-nighter and hands me a whole new season's blueprints. For free."

"Bet you any money. Watch. I go out there, kiss her, she has new designs on my desk by morning."

The room erupted into howling laughter.

"Jesus, Eth. You've got her on a choke chain."

I looked down at the thermos in my hands. The back of my hand still had a red mark where the soup had splashed me on the way down.

So that was it. Five years of my life, five years of work, and to him I was worth a cheap kiss.

I didn't do what I usually did. I didn't nudge the door open and softly remind him to eat.

I drew my leg back and kicked the door open with a crack.

The laughter died.

Every pair of eyes in the room snapped to me, stunned.

Ethan's smile froze on his face. Panic flashed in his eyes.

"Emily. You were on the upper deck. What are you doing down here?"

He stood to grab me. I sidestepped him.

"Wouldn't want to miss your little keynote, would I?"

I looked at him, cold, and tossed the thermos of soup onto the carpet at his feet.

"Ethan. Five years of unpaid labor. You've been enjoying yourself, haven't you?"

Ethan's brow creased. His tone sharpened into annoyance.

"Emily, knock it off. The guys were just joking."

"Joking?"

I laughed, a short, bitter sound.

"Using the work I bled for to win over your first love. That's a joke?"

Celeste stood up from the corner of the room, her face a picture of wounded innocence.

"Miss Hartley, you've got it wrong. Eth was only trying to help me get back on my feet. I just came back."

"If it bothers you, I'll turn down the million."

Ethan immediately shielded her with his body, protective.

"Celeste, don't waste your breath. She's always like this. Never knows when to let it go."

He turned back to me. His eyes went flat and cold.

"Emily. What exactly are you trying to do? Make a scene for everyone to enjoy?"

I held his gaze without flinching.

"You're the one they'll be laughing at, Ethan."

"You think I'm a free drafting machine? Fine. Let's do the math, since that's what matters to you."

"Five years. Two hundred signature designs for your company. At the floor rate this industry pays, that's two million dollars."

"Wire it to my account by tomorrow. Or I'll see you in court."

Ethan stared at me, actually stunned, like he hadn't expected me to go this far.

"Emily. Have you lost it? You're really going to itemize this?"

"Yes. I'm itemizing it."

I slid the cheap engagement ring off my finger and dropped it in the trash can.

"Because as of right now, I find you disgusting."

I turned and walked out without looking back.

Behind me, Ethan's voice rose, shaking with rage.

"Emily! If you walk out that door, don't you dare come crawling back on your knees! I wouldn't give you a cent!"

I stopped. I turned my head.

"Save it. Who cares?"