Chapter 42: Complications
By the time the clock’s long hand pointed past twelve, the design floor had quieted into a low hum of keyboards, pencil scratches, and the occasional shuffle of fabric swatches.
The morning meeting had already stretched everyone thin, and most of the team was eyeing the clock, ready for lunch.
Chloe, too, after getting a text from Bella telling her to go for lunch herself, was gathering her sketches into a folder, eager to get some air, when her desk phone buzzed sharply. She hesitated before picking up.
"Chloe Smith?"
"Yes?"
"Ms. Laurent wants you in her office. Immediately," Ms. Lauren’s secretary said into the phone.
Chloe frowned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "What? Right now?"
"Right now," the secretary repeated before the line went dead.
Chloe’s stomach sank. She slid her sketchbook into her bag and stood, nerves prickling with unease.
Ms. Laurent didn’t summon people unless it was serious. She thought as she made her way there.
The soft hum of the central air conditioning was the only sound that filled the hallway leading to Ms. Laurent’s office.
Chloe adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and paused outside the polished glass door that read:
Ms. Evelyn Laurent, Chief Creative Officer.
Her pulse ticked a little faster. She hadn’t expected to be summoned again so soon after the morning’s long meeting. Beside her, Damian stood, looking every bit as composed as ever, a hand casually tucked in his pocket like he owned the place. His expression gave nothing away, but Chloe could feel the undercurrent of annoyance radiating off him.
He didn’t want to be here any more than she did.
At least, the feeling was mutual. She thought with a scowl.
The intercom clicked, and Ms. Laurent’s crisp voice floated through. "Come in."
Chloe pushed the door open, and the two of them stepped into the office.
It was an elegant space—floor-to-ceiling windows flooding the room with daylight, shelves lined with design books, awards, and framed photographs from past StonesTech events.
Ms. Laurent herself sat behind a wide oak desk, glasses perched on her nose as she skimmed through a portfolio. Even in her early fifties, she exuded a sharp authority that could silence a room full of executives with a single glance.
"Take a seat," she said without looking up.
Chloe sat first, her palms resting on her lap. Damian took the chair beside her, leaning back in the leather seat with a nonchalant air.
Finally, Ms. Laurent set the folder down and regarded them both.
"I’ll get straight to the point," she began. "The StoneTech Annual Fashion Event is in three months, and the executive board expects it to surpass last year’s. This year’s theme—’Innovation Meets Elegance’—requires bold, original designs that can bridge fashion and technology seamlessly."
Her gaze flicked from Damian to Chloe, making Chloe wonder why she needed both her and Damian here to tell them that.
"And I’ve decided the two of you will lead the design initiative together," Ms. Laurent added.
The words hit Chloe like a slap. She blinked, certain she’d misheard her. Damian’s brows lifted slightly, and his gaze flickered to Chloe.
"With due respect, Ms. Laurent," Damian said smoothly, "I believe it would be more efficient if I led the project myself. I’ve directed the past two events successfully, and this year should be no different. There’s no need for... complications."
"Complications?" Chloe echoed, her voice sharpening. "Is that what you call working with me?"
He turned his head, his smirk faint but cutting. "You said it, not me."
Chloe stiffened, biting back the retort that rose to her lips.
Ms. Laurent’s eyes hardened, silencing them both before the exchange could escalate. "I didn’t call you both here to hear excuses or watch you two trade insults like you always do. I called you here to make a decision that will benefit this company. And that decision is final."
Damian sat up straighter, his jaw tightening. "With all due respect, Chief, my team is already prepared to start drafting. Involving an additional lead at this stage will slow us down. It’s inefficient."
Chloe crossed her arms. "Or maybe you just don’t like having someone around who challenges your ideas."
His eyes flickered dangerously, but Chloe held his gaze without flinching. She wouldn’t let him talk down at her.
Ms. Laurent interlaced her fingers and leaned forward, her voice steely. "Enough. I’ve been in this industry long enough to recognize talent when I see it. Chloe, your designs are fresh, unconventional, and they speak to a younger audience we cannot ignore. Damian, your discipline, structure, and experience are invaluable. The board doesn’t need one of you. It needs both of you. Side by side."
Her tone was final, brooking no argument.
Damian exhaled slowly, irritation flickering across his face, but he didn’t dare push further. Chloe, however, shook her head, her chest tightening with defiance.
"I’m sorry, Ms. Laurent," she said carefully, her voice laced with restrained emotion. "But I can’t work with him. Not after the way he’s dismissed me and my work repeatedly. I’d rather walk away from this project than spend months having every design I create torn down."
"Little wonder you won’t grow from presenting sentimental designs," Damian muttered more to himself than to her.
The room fell into heavy silence. Ms. Laurent studied her, unblinking, before replying.
"You won’t walk away, Chloe," she said, her tone calm but unyielding. "You will do this because I’m not giving either of you a choice. This event represents StoneTech’s vision. It is bigger than your pride. If either of you refuses, you may as well clear your desk by the end of the day. Is that understood?"
Chloe’s throat dried. She wanted to argue, to push back, but the steel in Ms. Laurent’s voice told her resistance was futile.
Damian inclined his head stiffly. "Understood."
Chloe’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes, Ms. Laurent," she muttered.
"Good." Ms. Laurent leaned back in her chair, picking up her pen again as if the matter were already closed. "You’re dismissed. I expect your first joint draft within two weeks. Make it work."
With that, she turned her attention back to the documents on her desk, signaling the end of the conversation.
Chloe stood, her entire body taut with frustration, and walked out without waiting for Damian. But the moment they were outside the office, his low voice cut through the tension.
"You heard her," Damian said, his tone dry. "Looks like we’re stuck together."
Chloe whirled on him, her brown eyes flashing. "Don’t get comfortable. I don’t care what she says, Damian. I’m not working with you—no matter what."
Her words were sharp enough to slice the air between them, and without waiting for a reply, she strode down the corridor, leaving him standing in silence, his jaw tight, his eyes dark.