My Brother's Best Friend

Epilogue

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Epilogue

"Do you have an idea for the magazine cover?" Ashley asked me, her notepad in hand.

"The sketch is on my office desk."

The two of us locked eyes and laughed.

"Yeah, I'll locate that after lunch," I promised. "It's probably underneath the headshots from the Philadelphia office."

"I bought you those organizers," Ashley reminded me. "The really cute chevron ones?"

"I'll get around to organization," I promised, opening the door to the meeting room, where the meeting was already half over.

"Fill me in," I said, taking my seat at the head of the table, Ashley on my right.

"The vote is almost unanimous," Rebecca informed me. "Everybody loves Guilenna." She put up her picture on the board.

"No," I declined, shaking my head.

Ashley immediately began to take notes, recording what I had to say.

"She has to gain at least 10 pounds if she wants to be on my magazine cover."

Rebecca exchanged glances with the woman on her right, both of them clearly fed up with me.

Not that that was anything new. Rebecca and I were constantly at odds.

"Emily," she said, in her reasoning voice. "Guilenna is a highly-renowned super model."

"And she can stay highly-renowned," I said, standing up. "On someone else's magazine cover." And with that I exited the meeting, Ashley right behind me.

"Slay," Ashley whispered.

I laughed, stopping at the front desk to check on the notes that had come in for me. "Rebecca can kiss my ass."

The secretary on the right handed me all of my phone notes from the morning, and I flipped through them as I walked away.

The pink note in the back caught my eye. Pink meant urgent.

My heels clicked on the wooden floors as I headed back my office, my eyes skimming over the notes.

"You have a meeting with MAC in fifteen minutes," Ashley reminded me, as I opened my office door.

I nodded, letting my door close behind me before kicking off my heels, letting my feet sink into the plush carpet.

I needed these fifteen minutes.

I took a seat in my office chair, shoving some papers out of the way just to have some elbow room.

 I ordered the phone notes in order of importance, saving the pink urgency for last.

It was from Natasha, one of my models.

The model Rebecca and I fought over the most.

I thought she was beautiful. Rebecca thought she was too big to be a model.

But at the end of the day, it was my multi-million dollar fashion company. And I pay Rebecca, not the other way around.

So Natasha stays.

I knew what Natasha was calling about. I hadn't given her the lead in the Fall Fashion Show. And Natasha was not only high-maitenance, but vain.

I set the pink slip to the side. I didn't want to deal with her today. I just wanted to get today over with.