“Excuse me,” I say, my heart racing inside my chest, and my stomach filling with a million butterflies for two different reasons.
I love the way he's flirting with me, and I hate the way she's glaring at me. It's like she knows when we're together, as if it's her sixth sense.
Turning, I scurry to the bathroom, leaving Lyle to wonder if he's frightened me off or if I'm just freshening up for him.
The door shuts behind me, and I walk to the sink, gripping the white porcelain as I hang my head. Sandy is holding my career in her hands; she can end it or make it explode in ways I could never dream of.
Out of nowhere, the door flings open, slamming against the wall. Sandy takes long, angry steps inside, her eyes black, and set on me.
“You lying fucking whore,” she barks through clenched teeth.
Peering at her through the mirror, I furrow my brows. “What did you just call me?” Spinning on my heels, I turn to face her.
“You said you'd stay away from him, you promised me. But it looks like you just lie through your teeth to get what you want. So,” she says, pausing for a second as she smirks lightly, “you're a lying fucking whore. Looks like it's just as easy for you to lie on your back as it is for you to lie through your teeth.”
“He came up to talk to me. What did you want me to do? Just walk away? I am carrying his baby, or did you forget that?”
Sandy's jaw snaps to the side as she throws her finger up in my face. “Do you know who you're fucking with? Do you realize what I can do to you?” She takes a firm step in, thinning her mouth. “I'll get you blacklisted from every agency, do you understand that? When I'm done with you, no one will want what's left.”
Our eyes are set on each other, and I catch hers as they glisten with hate and jealousy. I don't understand her. Why does she hate me so much?
“How come you’re like this? How can you be so cruel?”
Sandy smirks, tipping her head. “Now or in high school?” The way she says it sends a chill up my spine.
I always had my suspicions, but hearing her actually ask me, is confirmation.
“I knew it was you,” I say, my voice thick and harsh. “Why would you do that? What was the point?”
I don't know why I ever doubted my gut to begin with. She's a vindictive and jealous person.
“What was the point?” she asks as she laughs out loud. Sandy folds her arms across her chest proudly. She enjoys hurting people, and now she's displaying it like a badge of honor. “The point was to get what I wanted. I took the pictures out of your portfolio, I left you with blank pages, and I got what you went there for.” Her eyes move all around us as she holds out her arms with her palms facing the ceiling.
She wants me to look. She wants me to know what my hard work got her.
And now I hate her even more.
Sandy sees the anger as it turns my cheeks fire red. It fuels her, she can't get enough of it. So, she keeps talking, watching me, studying me, drinking up the emotions she's pulling out of me.
“They all loved my art skills,” she says with a dramatic wink. “And when you came stumbling in looking like a barely legal hussy, with an empty folder, it was great. A classic bimbo moment everyone I'm sure still remembers.”
Tears start to fill my eyes, and I'm struggling to keep my breathing steady.
Sandy pouts her bottom lip, pretending like she gives a shit. But she doesn't really care, she's just fucking with me. “Don't cry, the advice you gave me back then really was good, it did help. But I'm not going to apologize, when I want something, I take it. Welcome to the real world, Dalia.”
She doesn't deserve a single tear from me.
I'm not going to cry in front of her, she doesn't get the pleasure of seeing me hurt. Not this time.
Because I don't need her. I don't need this job. I don't need shit from someone who would rather stab me in the back instead of doing the work herself.
“You know what. . .” I stand taller, lifting my chin higher. “If you're going to fire me, then fire me. I'm not going to beg for my job. If my work got you here, then I know I can do better than this place on my own.”
“Go then if you think you can do better. But just know that I'm going to make sure any place you go to knows you're a slutty, boss-fucking whore, who will screw her way to the top.” Veering her stare, she snarls, “Is that how you want people to know you, Dalia? As a boss-fucking slut?”
Shaking my head, I'm not backing down. I don't care what she thinks anymore. Sandy isn't who I am. And I don't ever want to be her.
“Say what you want about me, Sandy, but you're the one that stole to get here, not me. I can go to sleep at night knowing I actually have the talent. You just borrow it and call it yours.” Pushing past her, I reach for the door.
“Dalia, you walk out that door, you better not ever look back. I'm going to warn you one time, and one time only; stay away from Lyle and I'll leave you alone. I'll pretend this conversation never happened, and we can part ways amicably. But, speak one word to my brother, and I'll end your fucking career. If you think high school was bad, you'll never come out of this.”
“I'm having his baby, Sandy.”
“Says you.” Her voice is cold, dead, and the look in her eyes is just as dark.
Holding the handle firmly in my hands, I smile at
