The Claiming of Sadie Graves (19 page)

Lorna looks hard at my photo, and back to my face. When everything appears to be in order she processes the check into my account. Her lips are turned downward. Lucas looks at me sideways and I can tell he feels like laughing.
It’s a lot like being in the principal’s office.

Then Lucas produces an envelope from the inside of his coat. “Your contract, Miss Graves” he intones. He pulls out
a short sheath of legal-sized paper, and unfolds it. “You can notarize this, Ms. Sykes? Our company prefers that these items are officially validated.” She nods.

He hands the paper to me.

I look down the page. There are limits to the length of the contract; it’s set for twenty-four months. My duties? I’m to design, produce, perfect, and market a full line of lingerie for Sutton Shield, under the auspices of the house of Anna Rosenstein. I’m responsible for fit, quality, fabric and customer satisfaction. I am given my own staff (with a budget of up to $300,000 per year for employees), my own studio (now listed as a space on the 10
th
floor of the Sutton Shield corporate offices), and my own brand name (listed as
Sexy Sadie, LTD
). My mouth opens involuntarily, just like Jenny’s did, on that note. 
Oh my God. Sexy Sadie. That has to be Lucas’ invention.
I’m not sure whether to laugh, or roll my eyes. So I just keep reading.

My salary is $335,000 per year.

Jesus. That’s a fortune.

I’m to be given bonuses on sales exceeding 2.5 Million USD, and those bonuses increase exponentially with each million USD sold. I keep reading. From my understanding of the document, the overall bonus is roughly equal to 15% of sales, once the breakeven of 2.5 Million USD is reached. The verbiage seems concise enough.

I’m responsible for my own financial brokerage or management, my own 401K and retirement benefits, and my own transportation…unless I’m traveling on company business. In such case, the company jet or other transportation will be requisitioned for my use. I may have to share travel time with other staff or employees of Sutton Shield.

I may use the corporate offices for promotion of the Sexy Sadie LTD brand. Budgets for events must be approved by management.
I will be called upon to promote the brand on television, in interviews and other media.

I’m expected to behave in a way befitting Sutton Shield’s reputation. Misdemeanor or felony arrests may void my contract.
I smile at this.
At all times, I am representing Sutton Shield, and I’m to be mindful of their brand and status.

Okay, then.

I produce a pen and sign on the dotted line. Lucas signs on behalf of Sutton Shield.

Ms. Sykes reviews the document and impresses it with her notary seal. Lucas sighs, loudly. I put my pen away, and shift in my chair to look at my
new boss.
Boyfriend.

Lover.

Whatever.

Geez.
This could get complicated.

“Sadie” he says with a smile, “you’ve just made my day, month and year.”

We rise, shake her hand, pay Ms. Sykes for her services, and head for the exit. Lucas uses the push-to-talk function on his cell to call Edgar, and he picks us up in front of the bank’s entrance.

On the way back to corporate headquarters,
Lucas raises the privacy screen in the limo and proceeds to kiss off every last bit of my lip gloss.

So far, this is the second-best day of my life.

I spend the afternoon drawing and cutting patterns for my friends at the “Secret Society of Sex.”

Well, that’s what I’m calling it.
I suppress a little smile. I want to meet and discuss the viability of a line geared toward them, but first I have to have something to show Anna and Bain. I plan on bringing my sewing machine to work tomorrow, which means I have to slip out to Kew Gardens to pick it up.

I have patterns made for the top five items within a few hours.
I text Lucas that I need to run an errand, and I head out to get a change of clothes or two, and my power tool. Did you know that a sewing machine is a power tool? I think people don’t give much credit to clothes, but they do make civilized society possible.

Calvin drives me out to my apartment in a town car. I get the aforementioned gadget and a week’s worth of work and play clothes. It’s barely 3:30PM, and
I suddenly realize I haven’t heard from Emma yet. I try her cell again, while I’m rummaging through my closet.

It’s my lucky day. She picks up. “Angel girl!” she cries.

“Oh my heavenly days. Are you really available?” I laugh into the phone. She laughs back. I can hear a lot of noise in the background. “I am, but literally only for a minute, precious. I’m on this Cosmo photo shoot, and it’s a madhouse.”

I’m immediately on alert.

You have jewelry in the shoot, Em? You know its Anna’s dress that Violet Emery is wearing.”

“Well, she looks like two million bucks. Y
es, my silver bell necklace is in the shot. Don’t ask me how that happened!” she giggles.

“Tell me what’s going on?” I ask, wondering how Anna’s brand is being portrayed.

“”Well, Lucas Sutton is here, kissing on the model like there’s no tomorrow, and Steve Madden is here doing the shoes, and there’s enough hair and makeup talent here to choke a mule. The first of the major shots have been taken, but they’re waiting for the sun to start setting for the last ones. Everyone’s drinking champagne. I hope I make it out of here alive!” Emma re-positions the phone, so she can hear me better.

I catch the first sentence and immediately stop packing.
My stomach plummets and my scalp prickles.

“Oh, Lucas Sutton, huh?
Teddy’s friend from school?” I know I can fish with Emma; she doesn’t have any inkling about Lucas and me.

She laughs. “That’s the one!” Now what are you doing?”

“Oh, keeping busy, babe. Listen, I know it might seem weird, but will you take your phone and send me a picture of Lucas and Violet? You know, I worked so hard on that placement. I have a huge investment in her wearing Anna’s dress. None of the Rosenstein staff were invited to the shoot. Will you do that for me, now?”

Emma is quiet. “Sadie! Are you saying they didn't ask your team to come here? That’s just wrong. I’m so sorry. You should be celebrating right now, with the rest of us. I feel terrible.”

I hear her moving.

“Listen, I just took five pictures. I’m sending them to your phone. I love you so much. I’m sorry you aren’t with me right now.”

Jesus. You’d better be glad I’m not there. Because if I were, I’d kill that two-timing bastard this minute.
She whispers into the phone. “Look, Sadie, we’re all about to move out onto a rooftop for the sunset photos. Can I call you back? “

“
Em, I appreciate it. You can call me later. I saw Sal yesterday and he wants us all to meet up - Natalia is making spaghetti early next week. I was hoping we could all get together. Can you and Teddy swing it?”

“You bet we can. Give me a call over the weekend, okay?”

I promise, and we ring off with a chorus of “I love you”. I’m once again indebted to my best friend. I regret not being 100% honest with her, but later, when I tell her everything, she will understand why.

I open my SMS screen.

There they are.
Each shot might as well be an arrow to my heart.

Lucas, holding Violet from behind, his eyes closed.
His hands are splayed across her waist.

Violet kissing Lucas’ lips, her blue eyes open, her full lips smiling.
Her hair is flying in the breeze.

Lucas
touching Violet’s hair. His expression is serious. There are little violas stuck in her locks, on blonde bobby pins. She looks magical.

Lucas and Violet, looking at each other, laughing.

In the last frame, Lucas is sitting in Violet’s makeup chair. He’s looking at his phone, a
thoughtful expression on his face. She’s in the background, moving off camera with an entourage. I can see the feathers on Anna’s skirt, floating in the breeze.

He’s probably reading my text.
Fucker.

I’m filled with the most
powerful disgust I’ve ever felt. I literally feel murderous. And hurt. And intensely stupid.
You did it again Sadie. But hey, fool me once; shame on you, Fool me twice; shame on me. I get that old adage. I do.

It’s
after four o’clock. I unpack my clothes, and put them away. I’m going nowhere.

I call a local locksmith, and ask how quickly the
locks in our apartment can be changed, and how much it will cost. The guy on the phone tells me he can be out in twenty minutes, and gives me a reasonable estimate, so I ask him to proceed.

I call Calvin on his cell, and tell him I’ve had a change of plans. I thank him for bringing me out to
Queens, and tell him I’ll see him at work, tomorrow. He thanks me for the update, and tells me he hopes I have a good night.

A few minutes later, the locksmith arrives and sets to work. He changes out both the deadbolt and the doorknob locks. I pay him in cash when he gives me the bill, and he gives me three sets of keys: one for me, one for Jenny, and one for our landlord. All of them work perfectly. I feel better already.
I text Jenny that I’m leaving her key in the locked mailbox down in the lobby – and I trot down to secure it for her.

W
ith that done, I lock the main door and go to my room. 

In private, I pull my phone out.
I look at each photo in turn, and I cry as if my heart is breaking. When I’m done, my face is literally swollen.
I believed him. Oh, I did.
I’m a classic fool.
And now Lucas Sutton has been proven a liar. Even worse, if he enjoys Violet’s company, he has to be secretly mean. I’ve seen her in action. I know how she operates.

I
visualize Peter Emery’s face, saying: “Our Lucas isn’t all that cruel or weird, is he?” to Sidney Poole
. Oh. Yes. Apparently, he’s both.

My wonderful day
now in shambles, I SMS the first picture Emma took to Lucas’ phone.

And then I block him from my inbound call and text list.

My skin is blotchy, and my eyes are pink from weeping. I turn off my phone, lock my bedroom door, wash my face and fall onto my bed. I’ll deal with all this tomorrow. 

I fall asleep with a pillow between my arms. At least I
’m holding something.

Thursday morning comes with a torrent of rain. Water beats against the side of our building, and it’s unnaturally dark. I call Anna around 7:30AM, and leave her a message saying I’m going to stop by the atelier today around ten o’clock. I want to run something by her.

She must have been in the shower or something, because within minutes she texts me that she received my message and can’t wait to see me.
I smile.

The one
person I can count on.

Anna.

“Love the Way You
Lie”

Eminem, featuring
Rhianna;
Recovery

The next person I call is Bain’s personal assistant, Sandra. She tells me he can arrange to see me at noon today. I thank her, and ask her to reserve the time. We ring off, a smile in both our voices.

Smiling is coming easy to me today. I know exactly what I have to do. And nothing in this world is going to stop me.

I get ready, and dress warmly. It looks cold out there. I grab my umbrella, and a raincoat. I take the stairs, avoiding any post Lucas may have on my door. I know how much he hates to lose. I have a distinct feeling that’s what all this was about anyway.

I look both ways when I get to the stairwell entrance on the first floor, and take the alley exit. I merge into a stream of human beings headed to the subway station, all dressed in black, grey and other somber colors. New Yorkers are such a predictable bunch! I laugh at how similar everyone looks
.

I take the
Blue line to midtown, and walk the rest of the way to Anna’s studio. I detour a few blocks and stop by the bank, have a cashier’s check made out to Bain Sutton, and I drop it into my portfolio. Then I walk back, and breeze through the front door, looking for my old boss.

She’s waiting for me in her office.

Anna takes one look at me and does a double take. She frowns. “Sadie. Something’s wrong. What’s going on?”

I realize I look tired and my eyes are still red, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Oh, Anna. Everything’s completely fucked up. I was an idiot. I slept with Lucas Sutton, and he asked me to move in with him…just, a lot has happened. Yesterday Emma had a piece of jewelry in the Cosmo shoot and she sent me five incriminating photos of Lucas and Violet Emery. I’m pretty devastated. I just need to figure out what I’m going to do now. Everything I thought was important…suddenly just isn’t.”

“Sadie, could you have possibly misinterpreted the photos? I’m just being the devil’s advocate.”