He Let Her Take My Award, I Exposed Her

Chapter 2

I didn't return to the apartment I shared with Daniel.

I was the one renting that apartment.

I paid the rent and the utilities. Even the zero-sugar sparkling water he liked in the fridge was something I carried upstairs by the case.

The year he first became design director, he got drunk and held me tight.

"Maddie, once I find my footing, I'll be the one taking care of you."

I believed him.

I stayed up with him over proposals, drank on his behalf at dinners, and helped him polish presentation decks.

I thought we were climbing together.

Then Vivian came back from abroad.

He started mentioning her more and more often.

"Vivian just came back. Help her out a little… Vivian doesn't feel secure yet. Don't hold everything against her… Vivian's stomach is weak. Don't order anything spicy for dinner this time."

But I loved spicy food.

Back then, I only smiled.

I thought she was his childhood sweetheart. They had grown up together. It made sense that he would take care of her.

As I looked back now, that three-person relationship had been cutting into me long before I admitted it.

I had simply kept making excuses for them while they sharpened the blade.

Later, the three of us had meals together more and more often.

Daniel always sat in the middle. He said it was easier for him to look after both of us that way.

But every time we ordered, Vivian was the first person he considered.

At one project dinner, the server asked what sauce we wanted with the pasta.

I had just said I wanted the spicy tomato sauce when Daniel closed the menu.

"Cream sauce. Vivian can't handle spicy food."

I froze.

Vivian immediately lowered her head and smiled.

"Madeline likes spicy food. You don't have to change it for me."

But Daniel only ruffled her hair.

"Your stomach is weak. Don't push yourself."

That day, I smoothed things over and said cream sauce was fine.

Now that I thought about it, I had believed I was the girlfriend. Only later did I realize I was just the person best at smoothing things over for them.

Another time, Vivian got the sash structure wrong and cried after the VP scolded her.

At midnight, Daniel called me.

"Maddie, help her fix it."

I had just finished my own section, and my shoulder hurt so much I could barely lift my arm. I asked him, "What about the credit?"

He was silent for two seconds, then coaxed me gently. "It's a team project. Why are you so hung up on credit? Vivian cried all night. She really can't handle this."

I softened then.

Now I knew it had been a rehearsal. They had known all along that I would give in.

I dragged my suitcase back to the old condo my parents had left me.

It was in an older building, with drafty windows and walls that were peeling in places.

Daniel had been urging me to sell it lately.

He said, "After we get married, we'll move into a bigger apartment and put both our names on the deed."

He said, "Your parents would want you to live somewhere better too."

At the time, I was moved. Now, a chill ran down my back just thinking about it.

On the entryway cabinet sat the cloth measuring-tape case my mother had sewn for me years ago.

My father used to sit by the window and watch me hunch over the table, drawing dresses.

He would say, "Our Maddie is going to make the most beautiful clothes someday."

After they passed away, the condo was old and drafty. But it was the only place I could return to without having to please anyone.

That was why I had never agreed whenever Daniel urged me to sell it.

After I walked in, I opened my laptop and plugged in my hard drive.

Everything was still there in the Return to the Tide folder, from the first sketch and the second structural revision to the seventh version of the hidden fishtail motif, the fabric district receipts, and the embroidery artisan's sample-making video.

Every file had a creation time and device ID. Daniel had only torn up the printed sketches. The real evidence had never been on paper.

I took a garment bag out of the closet. Inside hung the unfinished sample of Return to the Tide.

The pale ivory satin spread out, and the silver-blue koi motif floated along the skirt like light on water. It had originally been the gown I planned to wear at my engagement party.

A matching silk scarf came with it, and on the inside, the name Maddie was embroidered in tiny stitches.

My phone rang. It was Daniel.

I didn't answer.

He called three times in a row.

On the fourth call, I accepted and put it on speaker.

"Maddie." His voice softened the way it used to when he wanted to coax me. "Stop sulking. You haven't eaten, have you? I made butternut squash soup for you, the kind you like."

I said nothing.

He sighed. "I was too harsh today. But you have to understand me too. Vivian just came back. She has no footing here. If she loses this project, she may never get back on her feet."

I stared at the original sketch on the screen. "So it's fine if I'm the one who takes the fall?"

The other end of the call went quiet for a moment. Then his voice became even softer. "You're different. You have talent. You have me. You have a home. Vivian has nothing."

I suddenly laughed. "She has nothing, so she can take my work and claim the honor that belongs to me? So you want me to apologize to her?"

Daniel's voice hardened. "Madeline, don't get so worked up. Apologize tomorrow first. I'll make it up to you afterward. I can fight for the associate designer position for you. Project bonuses too."

I asked, "What about the lead-design credit?"

He said nothing.

I understood. He could give me anything, except the one thing that was already mine, my work. Because he wanted to make Vivian the star. He wanted to pave her road with my talent.

Daniel spoke again. "Maddie, be good. Back down just this once, and I'll handle everything else for you."

That sentence was too familiar.

When a client had once made me cry, he had said the same thing. "Maddie, be good. I'm here."

Back then, he had shielded me from the storm. Now, he wanted me to take the hit for Vivian.

I hung up.

I opened my email and drafted a new message.

Recipients:

the Design Rights Association, the High-End Couture Competition Committee, Aurelia Atelier's Legal Department, and the Audit Department.

Subject:

Formal Report: Vivian Blake of Aurelia Atelier Stole My Original Design, Return to the Tide; Daniel Vaughn Is Suspected of Helping Transfer Evidence and Filing a Fraudulent Grant Application

Once the attachments had been uploaded, I clicked Send.

When the screen showed "Sent", I finally relaxed my clenched hand.

At tomorrow's morning meeting, I wouldn't be the one who needed to apologize.