“You sound like a street thug.”

“Suck my D.”

Layla is the type who always wants to curse, but she refrains out of respect for her religion, so she either uses initials or spells the words out.

“You don’t have a dick, Layla.”

She makes a face, then claps her hands. “Come on, no time to waste. Get your designing mojo.”

“I’m nervous about this one.”

“That’s what you say every time and you knock socks off. Now, off to work.”

My heart warms at her words. Layla believes in me, even when I don’t believe in myself. She’s the best friend and partner I could’ve wished for.

It’s due to those facts that I protect her from my past. All she knows about me is that I’m an orphan — which is far from the truth.

I stand up and hug her. She awkwardly pats my back. Another thing about Lay? She doesn’t like hugs or being touched in general, but she puts up with me.

“Thank you,” I say, pulling away. “You’re my ride or die.”

“That was your hug for the week.” She waves on her way to the door.

“Suck my dick, Lay.”

“You don’t have one.” She throws over her shoulder, laughing.

As the door closes behind her, I pull my phone out and dial Agnus. He picks up after the first ring.

“Morning, Agnus.”

“Morning.”

“Listen. I’m sorry about leaving that way yesterday. I was wondering if I could get Ethan’s card? I think I lost mine.” Because of the brute Jonathan.

“There’s no need.”

My heart falls. Does this mean it’s over? Were they offended that I left yesterday?

“I was going to call to schedule a meeting between you and Ethan in your company. He wants to visit and consider an investment. Let's say, tomorrow at ten?”

Oh. God. He’s considering an investment. Jackpot.

I try not to sound so excited as I say, “That would be perfect. Thank you.”

Screw Jonathan. I’ll follow Layla’s advice. If I have Ethan, he won’t be able to hurt me, even if he tries.

Or so I think.

7

Aurora

Today is the day.

Ever since we found out about Jake’s betrayal, Layla and I — and everyone else in the company — have been working so hard to reach a day like this one.

Investors. Legitimate ones — not the others who backed away after a walk in the factory or in the offices.

Whenever I take them on a tour, I feel so vulnerable. In a way, I’m opening my home for strangers who might not like it. And they don’t. Most of the time.

Ethan is different.

He hasn’t shown any sign of displeasure as Layla and I take him and Agnus to the factory and talk about our plans for the upcoming product’s launch.

Agnus remains expressionless as usual, but Ethan questions us about certain parts he’d like to understand better.

Our offices aren’t extravagant. We occupy a modest building in London’s industrialised area, but it’s enough for the administration and the factory. We were thinking about expanding before the whole shitshow with Jake went down. Now, we’ll be lucky if we get to keep this building.

By the time we’re back to my office, I’m about to explode with anticipation and nerves. I touch my watch, then drop my hand so it’s not perceived as a nervous gesture.

When I woke up this morning, I took extra care of my appearance. I wore my black pencil skirt and pressed white shirt with a black ribbon. My hair falls on either side of my shoulders and I even put on the red lipstick again. There’s something powerful about looking the best I can; it fills me with a much-needed burst of confidence.

Even Layla put on a dress, which she usually only reserves for special occasions, and that says something.

The two of us sit beside each other as Ethan and Agnus occupy the sofa across from us.

Ethan is reading through Layla’s marketing plan for the new launch, taking his time between pages. Agnus scrolls through our online store on his tablet.

Layla squirms beside me. Although she’s never been the nervous type, I can almost see the anxiety halo surrounding her head. Like me, she realises this might be our last chance.

If we don’t get this, H&H will have to close down and we might have to hunt for a corporate job that we both hate so much.

And worse, we’ll let our employees down.

We have Mr Vincent, our French silent investor with eleven per cent of the shares. We only met him a few times at the beginning but never after that. He’s a private man and barely comes to England anymore. We could offer him more of our shares for investment, but Layla and I are leaving that as a last resort. She and I own forty-five per cent each and we already used twenty per cent each to cover our last loan.

Sweat covers my back, gluing my shirt to my skin, and there’s nothing I can do to make it stop. It’s like my body is being pushed back to that flight or fight mode.

No. This is different. I’ll never go back to those times.

“I must say.” Ethan neatly closes Layla’s organised plan. “I’m impressed. And I’m rarely impressed.”

Both Layla and I release a breath at the same time.

“Thank you.” Layla smiles.

“I’m kind of surprised Agnus here didn’t snatch you as soon as you were out of university. He gathered the best of the best in our marketing department, and they could use a tip or two from you.”

Layla grins. “That’s because I’d already started my own company.”

“My miss.” Agnus nods.

“Aurora.” Ethan faces me.

“Yes?”

“I believe the two of you complement each other really well. The designs are unique and Layla needs to get out of the box to find your special customers.”

“I believe so, yes.” That’s why Layla and I rarely have any disagreements. We’re not rivals; we complete each other.

“Let me ask you something.” Ethan stares between the two of us. “What made you start designing watches?”

I could give him the generic answer I always give. Like how it’s my passion and my art, and while it is, that’s not the entire truth.

Ethan is the type who can detect a lie and I don’t want to seem dishonest in front of him at such a sensitive time. He might take it as disrespect and that’s the last thing I want. So I go the vulnerable route.