The "Stylist" | Book I in a Series of Mistaken Identities

PLOTTING

Melissa

A simple, girl's night in with Brenda was exactly what I needed. It all started very civil, dinner and a cocktail at the dining table that we almost never use, but two boozy margaritas later we're in the living room trying to copy a gymnastics balance trick we saw on social media.

As I lean back, knees bent, holding Brenda's hand as she steps up onto my thighs we finally get it and hold it long enough to consider it a success until Brenda starts giggling and her core strength gives out. I may also have dropped her.

We lie on the floor for a minute recovering from our antics, "I bet this isn't what guys think women do on girl's nights in."

"We can go really wild and I'll let you paint my toenails if you like."

Brenda reaches for her third Margherita from the coffee table and takes a sip, "How old is too old to be goofing off like this?"

I lean on my hand and look up at Brenda from the floor, "There's no age limit on fun B... there is on baby making though."

Brenda's eyes widen and she swallows the sip she almost choked on, "Am I going to be an auntie?"

"Maybe within a year or two, maybe, I don't know." I feel myself smiling, "Charlie said he wants to make babies with me." Brenda gasps, "And I might quit Martin's again, start something in fashion."

"Yes! Do it, and I'll do your promotional material, it'll be awesome to be able to finally do something together."

My phone rings and when I see it's my father I groan before answering it, "What's up Daddio?"

"I'm in town, I want to see the building tomorrow."

My brain takes a moment to realize this may actually be a good opportunity to talk to him about quitting, "Dinner afterwards?"

"Done."

"I'll send you the details," I hung up and let my phone drop out of my fingers onto the carpet. "Shoot me."

Brenda pretends to shoot me with her finger gun, "Pew," she whispers.

The meeting with Cindy went amazingly. She brought the entire book we her new line. I had seen some of the designs when she had just started designing and thought they were amazing, but now that they're complete they're out of this world. It's a high end kid's line with a few matching options for parents to wear, that way they tie in but aren't too matchy-matchy.

As I flip through the pages Brenda rattles off her ideas for the first show. I don't know how she did it, but the woman had viable ideas coming out the wazoo first thing in the morning.

Last night, even with all the margheritas last night I wasn't able to sleep. My head was buzzing for hours and I lay there thinking of all the ways I could word the disappointing news to my father. He had been looking forward to me coming back, and with everything mostly patched up, leaving a second time is going to be much more difficult.

Sitting here with these two powerhouse women, I couldn't help but look up from the portfolio to watch them both talk so enthusiastically about our new venture. Their excitement was contagious and the more I flipped through the designs the more this felt right.

Since I had a few hours to kill before meeting with my father I decided to go for a walk, and somehow my feet took me to Charlie's building. I stopped across the street and thought about going in for a long minute until I saw my father get out of his car and go inside.What. The. Fuck.

I didn't really know what to think of it, and I'm not sure how long I stood there watching the door, but it was just...bizarre. At some point my feet started walking again and I started going over the possible reasons why my father would be going to see Charlie. He could be seeing someone else in the building but that's not likely.

Wait, is Charlie going to propose the merger to my father? He wouldn't be that nuts, right? It was just a random idea; I hope he's not running with it. He wouldn't, he'd talk to me first.

Right?

I had two lollipops on the way home. Charlie and my dad being all chummy is stressing me out more than the idea of quitting.

Andrew called just as I made it home to update me on William's legal situation. It's not over with yet, there's court dates to be set, witness testimony to be given blah blah, but it's nothing I'm even letting make it to my plate. I'm at a buffet, already piled high, and Charlie's sperm donor of a father can take a hike. Me almost getting drugged and potentially getting sexually assaulted turned out to be the best thing that could ever happen for Archie's adoption, so there's that. The shit I think sometimes, honestly.

When it came time to go meet my dad in Harlem, I called Chris and had him drive me over. I decided in the car I wouldn't ask him about it directly, but I smell plotting, those two are definitely up to something.

"Sup daddio," I say to my father as I get out of the car. He gives me a quick peck on the cheek and I take out the rather large old keys from my bag.

He watches me take off the big chain locking the old door, "How are you, cupcake?"

"I think I'm going through a mid-life crisis," I shrug and we walk into the building.

"Oh, not again, I don't think I could survive another one."

"Another one? When did I ever have a mid-life crisis?"

"I think you were thirteen, fourteen."

I rub my eyes, "That wasn't a mid-life crisis dad, that was puberty."

He shrugs, "Potato, potah-to."

"So, what did you do today?" I dive right in as we walk around from room to room. I watch closely as he slips on his poker face. Yep, plotting.

"I had a couple meetings in town, nothing you need to concern yourself about."

We wondered around the building for about ten minutes before my dad looked at me shoving his hands into his pockets, "Melissa, I think it's time you went back to doing whatever work it was you were doing before all this."

"All of this?"

"Harlem, coming back to Martin Enterprises. What I'm trying to say is, I think it's time you reconsidered your position in the company and ventured out, built something of your own and expanded the family name into other areas."

"What the fuck dad, did you have a stroke? All you've ever wanted is for me to take over, and now you've suddenly changed your mind?"

"Yes," he says simply. "Where are we going for dinner? I'm starting to get a little peckish."

I watched with my jaw on the floor as my dad just waltzed on out and left me to gather the parts of my brain scattered about the room. Mind. Literally. Blown.

What the hell did Charlie do?