The Price of Scandal (Bluewater Billionaires) - Lucy Score Page 0,101
and I would be out of jobs,” I said, slapping him on the shoulder.
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
“Do me a favor,” I said. “Before you start planning your retirement, run this name through whatever appalling database you’ve got access to.” I scrawled the name on a bar napkin and handed it over.
Jude’s eyebrows winged up. “Seriously?”
“I’m afraid so. Something’s going down, and we need to get ahead of it.” I had a very bad feeling.
“You going to give Dragon Lady a heads up?” Jude asked, tucking the napkin into his pocket.
Lita’s words echoed in my head. “I need proof first.”
42
Emily
I closed my eyes and enjoyed being completely alone for the first time all day. I kicked off my shoes and squished my abused toes in the thick carpet under my desk. Derek, who had been cryptically “busy” last night, was taking care of something in his own office. Lona, my constant shadow, was checking in with her office. And Jane was off either eating a burrito or flirting with a man.
My cell phone and desk phones rang simultaneously. Derek was calling my cell.
“Hey, how are you?” I asked.
“Emily.” The tension in his voice on that one word, my name.
“What is it?”
Jane burst through my office door, Valerie and Easton were hot on her heels. She looked pissed. My assistants looked nauseated.
“I’m emailing you an article,” Derek said tersely.
Subject: Emergency.
With dread oozing into my intestines, I opened the message.
Flawless ‘miracle’ scar treatment a flawed disaster.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, skimming the article. Nina.
“There are others,” he said.
“Where is this coming from? Why is my subject from the trial telling the press she was scarred by the treatment?” I demanded. I was a volcano nearing eruption. Nina, the bubbly girl who’d taken two dozen selfies after the biobandages came off, was now saying my scar treatment had permanently disfigured her.
“I’m going to find that out,” Derek said.
“Who do you want me to stun gun?” Jane asked.
“Call me as soon as you know something,” I told Derek.
“I will. She’s not going to win, Emily,” he promised.
I didn’t have time to ask what he meant by that because my desk phone was ringing.
I disconnected with Derek. “Get me Nina, now,” I told the hovering assistants.
“Already dialing,” Valerie assured me as she hustled out of the room.
“Hey, Luna. I’m in the middle of a crisis—” I began.
“La Sophia has your formula,” she said breathlessly into the phone.
“What? What formula?” I clutched my phone tighter.
“I’ve got a distributor who works with my line and a La Sophia line. He let it slip that La Sophia was rushing a scar treatment through to market,” Luna said, the words spilling out of her mouth in a torrent. “So of course I got curious. No one keeps a secret that well in this business. I knew about their CC cream when it was just days into development back in 2016. They just launched it last fall.”
I held onto my sanity by my fingernails. Luna’s storytelling was often ethereal and disjointed.
“Anyway, I have a friendly source in their marketing department that I’ve been trying to woo onto my team. I’m totally digressing, but I’m so pissed off that I can’t think straight.”
“What are you saying, Moon?” I asked, feeling something prickle at the back of my neck.
“Bottom line is someone came to them with your formula and offered to sell it to them. I don’t know if the deal is done or not.”
Damn it. The patent. Where were we with it? Could I fight this?
It didn’t matter. I would fight this. This was corporate espionage.
Anger woke in me like a sleeping dragon.
Someone had stolen from me, from my team, my staff. From the families of my employees, and I would make them pay.
“Who was it?” I asked, my voice low and controlled while my anger set off fireworks in my head.
“My girl didn’t know, but she was so ethically horrified she put in her two weeks and is coming on board with Wild Heart next month. So yay for me. She heard through the rumor mill that they’re making room for some big executive. It’s not a done deal, but there’ve been a bunch of hush-hush meetings.”
Something rang mystically on her end of the call.
“Is that a gong?” I asked, surprised my brain had room for anything other than white hot anger.
“Yes, I’m shopping for a new one for my living room.”
Of course she was. Because Luna was the type who had a gong in her