It didn't matter what he was planning. I wouldn't be around to see it.
His tone shifted, becoming gentle. He was talking to Naomi.
Tomorrow was the company's new product launch. Naomi was hosting.
He coached her patiently on how to handle the cameras, reassuring her that she could leave the stage the moment she felt uncomfortable.
When *I* gave my first interview as Mrs. Mason, I mispronounced one word.
To "train" me, Joel forced me to stand under the strobe lights for twelve hours straight.
A dry laugh escaped my lips. I wiped a stray tear and continued packing my meager belongings.
The gown I had designed for the launch—a piece I spent half a month perfecting—went straight into the trash.
"Isn't that what you're wearing tomorrow?"
Joel's voice came from the doorway. "Why is it in the trash?"
He didn't wait for an answer. He reached into the bin, pulled out the silk gown, and inspected it.
"Luckily, it's not dirty."
He set up the ironing board and began pressing the fabric himself, meticulous and calm. "There. Wear this tomorrow. And remember—don't be late."
The launch event was a shark tank.