3. Reclaiming What's Mine

ARDEN

I checked my phone and my heart dropped as I recalled a crucial thing that happened before.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The Windsor presentation was today. How could I forget? In my past life, I'd worked on this project for three weeks straight, staying late every night to perfect every detail. And Rita had waltzed in, claimed she "helped" with it, and got promoted from contract worker to permanent employee.

Not this time.

I grabbed my bag and ran out the door, my heels clicking against the hallway floor. The elevator was too slow so I took the stairs, jumping two steps at a time.

Outside, I started my car and pulled into traffic. Then I remembered the route I was about to take was jammed packed today. In my past life, I'd sat in traffic for forty minutes and missed the entire presentation.

"No way," I muttered, yanking the steering wheel right.

I took the back streets instead, driving faster than I should. The morning sun was bright and I was making good time until…

A brown blur shot across the road.

I slammed on the brakes so hard my body jerked forward against the seatbelt. My car stopped inches from a medium-sized dog who was running like his life depended on it.

"What the hell!" I screamed, my heart pounding.

Behind the dog, a man was chasing him, completely out of breath. "Bruno! Bruno, come back here!"

The dog who was named Bruno apparently stopped right in front of my car and sat down. He just sat there like he owned the street.

I got out of my car, ready to yell at whoever was stupid enough to let their dog run wild, but the words died in my throat.

Doctor Jett Mercer was bent over, hands on his knees, breathing so hard I thought he might pass out. He was wearing grey sweatpants and a tight black t-shirt that showed off his arms and chest. His black hair was messy and sweaty, and he looked...

Damn. He looked really good.

In my past life, I'd only seen him in his white doctor's coat at the hospital when he treated my mom. He was always so professional and serious. I never really looked at him as a man, just as Mom's doctor.

"I'm so sorry," he said, finally catching his breath. He stood up straight and our eyes met. "He just ran off and I couldn't…Arden?"

I blinked. "You remember me?"

"Of course I remember you." His grey eyes were locked on mine. "You came to every single one of your mother's appointments. How could I forget?"

Something about the way he said it made my stomach flip. There was something intense in his gaze, like he was seeing through me.

"Right," I said, suddenly feeling awkward. "Well, your dog almost became roadkill."

"I know. I'm really sorry." He walked over to Bruno and grabbed his collar, but the dog pulled away from him and trotted right up to me.

Before I could react, Bruno was nuzzling my hand with his wet nose.

"Bruno, no…" Jett started.

But I was already kneeling down, petting the dog's soft fur. "Hey boy. You gave your dad quite the workout, didn't you?"

Bruno licked my hand and I laughed. I couldn't help it. The dog was adorable.

When I looked up, Jett was staring at me with this weird expression on his face. His eyes were dark and focused, like I was the only thing in the world right now.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing. It's just... he doesn't usually like strangers."

"Oh" I said without thinking.

The air between us felt thick and heavy. Neither of us moved or looked away.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, breaking the spell.

"I have to go," I said quickly, standing up. "I'm late for work."

"Of course. Again, I'm really sorry about…"

"It's fine." I was already walking back to my car. "Just keep him on a leash next time, Doctor Mercer."

"Jett," he called out. "You can call me Jett."

I didn't answer. I just got in my car and drove away, but I could feel his eyes on me the entire time.

*****

I arrived at Harlow and Co. fifteen minutes late. The meeting had already started.

Through the glass walls of the conference room, I could see Rita standing at the front, presenting MY slides on the big screen. She was wearing a cream colored blazer and had her hair in a neat bun, looking every bit the professional employee.

Our manager, Derek Hayes, was sitting next to our client, Mr. Windsor, nodding along like Rita was some kind of genius.

My blood boiled.

But I didn't panic. I didn't cry or apologize like I did in my past life. Instead, I went straight to the break room and made a cup of coffee. Not just any coffee. A double espresso with exactly one sugar cube and a splash of cream.

Mr. Windsor's exact favorite.

I'd done my research on him in my past life. Learned everything about his preferences, his business style and his pet peeves. And then I'd given all that information to Rita because I wanted to "help my sister succeed."

What a joke.

With the coffee in hand, I walked straight into the conference room and pushed the door open.

Everyone turned to look at me.

"Good morning, Mr. Windsor," I said smoothly, walking right up to him. "My apologies for being late. Traffic was terrible. I brought you your favorite. The double espresso with one sugar, and a splash of cream."

Mr. Windsor's eyebrows shot up. He was a confident man whose brand shot up overnight. A bit awkward but nice. "How did you know?"

"I make it my business to know my clients," I said, setting the cup down in front of him.

Rita's smile was so fake it could crack. "Arden! I'm so glad you could join us. I was just presenting the campaign we worked on together."

We?

I saw right through her act this time. The sweet smile, the inclusive language and the way she tried to make it seem like we were partners. But her eyes showed she was annoyed and threatened I was here.

"Please continue," I said, sitting down at the table.

Rita kept presenting, but I could see her hands shaking slightly. She knew I was watching and I could call her out on her lie at any point.

Derek Hayes cleared his throat. "Ms. Steele, perhaps you should sit this one out since you were late. Rita has been doing an excellent job."

Of course he would say that. In my past life, Derek had been giving me hell for months because I kept refusing his sexual advances. He'd asked me out five times. Touched my shoulder "accidentally" at least a dozen times. And when I reported him to HR, nothing happened because he was buddy-buddy with the director.

So he'd made my work life miserable instead. Giving my projects to Rita. Criticizing everything I did. Making me work overtime while Rita got to leave early.

"I appreciate your input, Derek," I said coldly. "But I'm staying."

Rita continued presenting, her voice a little less steady now. She was talking about brand positioning and target demographics. All things I'd written in my original presentation.

Then Mr. Windsor raised his hand. "Miss Steele, can you explain the consumer behavior analysis you mentioned? Specifically, how did you determine the 18-35 demographic would respond better to digital campaigns versus traditional media?"

Rita's face went blank. "Well, um, that's based on... general market trends and..."

She had no idea. Because she didn't do the research. I did.

Mr. Windsor frowned. "General trends? Can you be more specific?"

"I can answer that," Derek jumped in, trying to save her. "You see, Mr. Windsor..."

"Actually," I interrupted, "I can explain since I conducted that specific research."

All eyes turned to me.

I smiled.”Our demographic lives online, not in magazines. They respond to authenticity and storytelling, not traditional ads. Influencer partnerships and user-generated content drive real purchase intent. That's why we will focus our strategy on Snapgram and HitTok.”

Mr. Windsor leaned forward, his eyes sharp with interest. "Continue."

For the next twenty minutes, I answered every single one of his questions. I knew this project inside and out because I stayed up late creating it.

Rita sat there with her fake smile plastered on her face, but I could see the panic in her eyes.

Derek looked like he wanted to strangle me.

And Mr. Windsor? He looked impressed.

When I finished, he set down his coffee cup and looked directly at me. "Miss Steele, I have to say, this is exactly the kind of strategic thinking I was hoping for."

"Thank you, sir."

"In fact," he continued, standing up, "I'd like to work with you personally on this campaign. You clearly understand my brand and my vision

My heart soared. This was it. This was my moment.

"I'd be honored, Mr. Windsor," I said.

He turned to Derek. "I'll sign the contract under one condition…Miss Arden Steele is the lead on this project and my primary point of contact. If she's not available, I'll take my business elsewhere."

Derek's face turned red. "Mr. Windsor, I assure you…"

"Those are my terms." Mr. Windsor picked up his briefcase. "Miss Steele, I'll have my assistant send over the details. I look forward to working with you."

"Likewise, sir."

As soon as he left the room, the atmosphere changed completely.

Derek stood up so fast his chair rolled back. "My office. Now."

"Actually, I need to use the restroom first," I said sweetly. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

I walked out before he could respond, and Rita followed me into the hallway.

"Arden, wait!"

I turned around slowly.

"I'm so sorry," Rita said, her eyes wide and innocent. "I didn't mean to take credit for your work. I just thought since you were late, I could help present and we could both…"

"Stop."

She blinked. "What?"

"Stop trying to take what's not yours," I said quietly.

Her face shifted for just a second. I saw the real Rita but then the mask was back on.

"I don't know what you mean," she said. "I was just trying to help."

"Sure you were."

There was a long, tense silence.

Then Rita changed tactics. "Hey, speaking of helping... I heard Sarah talking about you yesterday in the break room."

My stomach tightened. Sarah and I used to be close friends until Rita destroyed our friendship with lies and manipulation. In my past life, Sarah ended up hating me because she thought I'd been spreading rumors about her.

It had all been Rita.

"Oh?" I said, keeping my voice neutral. "What did she say?"

"I probably shouldn't tell you..." Rita bit her lip, playing the concerned sister perfectly. "But she was saying some pretty mean things. Something about you being obnoxious and a know-it-all who's sleeping with the manager for projects. You have to be careful.”

In my past life, I'd been devastated by this. I cried in the bathroom for an hour because I couldn't believe my closest work colleague would say that about me.

Now I saw right through it.

"Really?" I said. "That's interesting. Should we go ask her?"

Rita's eyes widened. "What? No, I don't think…"

"Come on," I said, walking toward the cafeteria. "Let's clear this up right now."

"Arden, wait…"

But I was already pushing through the cafeteria doors. Sarah was sitting at a table with two other coworkers, eating a salad.

I walked right up to her table.

"Hey Sarah," I said loudly enough for the whole cafeteria to h ear. "Quick question…did you call me obnoxious and a know-it-all who's sleeping with the manager for projects?"