Mae

Itching to wrap my hands around Philip’s neck, I took a step toward him and Clinton. Then I heard a finger-snap, and before I could blink, I was back in my apartment.

“Hey!” I whirled on the man calling himself a devil. “I wasn’t done there. Take me back!”

He stared at me blankly, then adjusted the lapel of his suit.

“Please, I need to show them exactly what a woman can do.”

He grinned at that, nodded. “All in good time, Mae. First, I can’t believe I’ve been so rude…” He moved closer and faced me, his hand reaching out. “You can call me Azrimin.”

I stared at his proffered hand, my brows raised. I wasn’t shaking on shit until I got more information.

“Fine.” He lowered his arm. “Second…this was just a taste of what I can do for you.”

Unsure I could trust him and at the moment probably less impressed with the bells and whistles than I should have been, I tuned him out and thought back to the scene I’d just witnessed. Not only had they blindsided me, but they seemed happy to have done it. The words Philips spewed, his gleeful assertion for why they wanted Clinton. The only manly part of Clinton was his genitalia. I could probably kick his ass. And yet they seemed to be eating it all up.

And what about Harriet? Had she been in on it? She’s a woman, for God’s sake. Not to mention family. I wanted to tear them to shreds. But I needed to calm down and form a solid plan. The thought had me turning my attention back to Azrimin, who was looking thoughtfully at me.

“Listen, take some time to think about it. I’ll be back whenever you’re ready.”

He gave a single nod, and before I could say a word, he vanished, leaving only his masculine scent behind. It made me wonder once again about his transformation. Obviously, his nerdy mailroom guy persona was just for him to blend in. It might have been a bit sick and dark, but I couldn’t help thinking I much preferred this attractive, well-dressed, confident version—except the fact that he turned out to be a devil. He’d proven it by showing me actual, real magic today, but still… As incredible as that was, my brain hyper-focused on Harriet and Clinton.

I moved to the sofa and sat, glancing at the mantel where a family picture rested, all of us gathered around a candlelit dinner not long before my dad died. “I truly thought they were my family.”

I wasn’t one to get overly emotional, but I felt a sting behind my eyes thinking about Harriet. I never really knew the woman who’d given birth to me, so Harriet became my mother. I stood and moved to the mantel, examining the image of her smiling face. “How long were you plotting against me…huh?”

I shook my head and paced in front of my couch, replaying the words from that disgusting backroom party. They were fucking laughing at your expense.

Not one to wallow in my feelings, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed my stepmother’s number.

Harriet answered the way she’d always answered my calls. “Hello, darling.”

The fact that she acted like everything was normal burned me up. “We need to talk.”

“I’m listening.”

“In person. Now. I—”

“I’m sorry, doll,” she said over me as if my tone didn’t spur any reaction from her, “but I’m all jammed up. How about tomorrow?”

Knowing Harriet was just as stubborn as I was, I didn’t argue. Having an unprofessional outburst over the phone wouldn’t help me anyway. So, I gritted my teeth together, and drew in a breath. “Fine. Tomorrow. Text me where you want to meet.” Without further words, I disconnected the call, then threw my phone onto the couch. Closing my eyes, I worked to calm myself, breathing in and out. But it was no use. My heart still hammered in my chest, and my temples throbbed. This anger was consuming me, and all I could see was Harriet and Clinton at the heart of it.

I paced over to my unfinished drink and picked it up. If I were being honest I was also pissed at myself for not seeing this coming. I rarely made mistakes, but when I did, I never let myself forget how I fucked up.

After downing the rest of my drink, yet another knock sounded at my front door. Goosebumps erupted along my arm as my thoughts sprang to Azrimin. Could it be?

I moved to the door and looked through the peephole. Letting out a sigh, I unlocked the door, then opened it to my assistant, Sherry.

“I’m so sorry,” Sherry said by way of greeting as she marched through the door. Sherry was short on everything: short red hair, barely five-foot-two, short attention span, and most times, a short fuse. Not to anger but panic. But she was also smart, a work horse, and loyal. “I should have had all that information for you before the vote even happened, but no one knew! No one!” She hefted the strap of her messenger back higher up her shoulder.

“It’s not your fault,” I said, seeing how upset she was. “If I didn’t see it coming, how could I expect you to?” I don’t know what I’d do without Sherry but she wasn’t omniscient.

“Well, I just had to come see you. How are you holding up?”

I shrugged and gestured for us to sit on the couch. “I’m still processing. What’s the word in the office?”

Hands braced on her thighs, Sherry flinched. “It’s not great. And…” Her eyes darted away from mine.

“What? Tell me.”

She sighed. “Now that Clinton took you out, people think they can come for you. I’m afraid you’re not as untouchable as you were.”

I wasn’t surprised to hear that. It made sense. “This loss will hurt me, no doubt. They’ll think I’m weak now.” My tone was matter-of-fact because no matter what, I wasn’t giving up, and I didn’t want Sherry to give up either.

Hesitantly, she asked, “Are you going to…quit? And also, can you take me with you?”

I laughed, not just because Sherry often was one of the only people to make me smile, and even at a time like this, I appreciated it, but most of all, her loyalty touched me.

I shook my head and said, “I’m not a quitter, Sherry, and I can’t give up on my father’s dream. But there’s something you should know.”

As I unfolded to Sherry what Angela had told me, and what I now saw as a plot to undermine my position as the head of the company, and how Harriet stabbed me in the back, Sherry’s expression went from confused to hurt to seething.

“Why would Harriet do that?” Sherry wrung her hands in her lap.

I didn’t hide my frown from Sherry nor did I control the angry tone of my voice when I said, “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.”

***

The next day, I arrived at Yellow House, one of New York’s most exclusive social clubs, and paced through the dining room to meet my stepmother, who was already seated at a table. These days Yellow House was the only place Harriet went. I spotted her sitting tall in a cream-colored pant suit, sipping on what appeared to be iced tea.

Harriet grinned when she glanced up and saw me, but I could see it didn’t reach her eyes. Without a word, I dropped into the seat across from her, fixing a glare at her. “So, were you planning to betray me even when you took me shopping for my prom dress?”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Oh, Mae, don’t be so dramatic. It’s just business, darling.” She waved a hand at me and looked around the area, as if to see if anyone was listening. “You know this is nothing personal.”

I gripped the edge of my seat, instinctively knowing I better stay rooted to the chair. “You’re telling me you really think Clinton will be better at leading this company than me?” I paused for just a beat to watched her reaction. “Clinton, who has currently turned dad’s entertaining room into a fucking strip club for those disgusting old dinosaurs on the board?”

A flicker of something crossed Harriet’s face but quickly melded back to a cool demeanor. “I think Clinton is… malleable. And I know Clinton doesn’t know how to say no to me.”

I huffed out a quiet laugh. Not that I found her description funny but more so out of shock and frustration. Why was Harriet acting this way? I barely recognized this person sitting across from me. Harriet had been pleasant enough, warm even. When I was younger, she’d been the one to stay up late with me when I was sick or couldn’t sleep? We’d gone to monthly brunches where Harriet recounted stories and gave advice on my dating life. How was it possible this stranger was that woman?

“I just don’t understand. How could you treat your daughter like this?”

Just like in the board meeting, Harriet pulled out her sympathetic expression. Either I’d never noticed before or she was just too damn good because I hadn’t had a clue what she’d been hiding beneath that sympathy was something cold.

Harriet pushed her chair back from the table. Shaking her head, she tossed her napkin aside. “Oh, Mae. Stepdaughter.” Then stood and walked away, not even a glance back in my direction.