Part 4
She grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
For a few seconds, neither moved.
“The breaker’s off,” he said.
Emmy looked toward the dead switch. She had turned it off herself.
“Oh.”
His bare shoulder was warm beneath her palm.
“You can let go,” he said gently.
She stepped backward into the hallway.
“I thought you were going to electrocute yourself.”
“I gathered that.”
She shut the door and stood against it until she remembered she was already late for work.
That evening, Nathan found her putting finished blouses into the canvas bag.
“Where are you going?”
“The stall. Some customers come after their shifts.”
“You’ve worked all day.”
“So have they.”
He took his jacket from the chair.
“I’ll come.”
“I don’t need an escort.”
“Good. I can carry things.”
She let him take the heavier bag.
At the market, he sat beside her on an overturned crate while she pinned a hem for one customer and showed another woman how to fasten a wrap blouse. The evening air carried dust from the loading lane. Mosquitoes found Nathan’s ankles.
When the last customer left, Emmy counted the bills twice.
“That’s a decent night.”
Nathan looked at the small total.
“For three hours?”
She closed the cash box.
“That feeds us for several days. A few more sales and we could have chicken this weekend.”
“You need rest, too.”
“I need to repay your grandmother.”
“She might never ask.”
“I’ll have it ready anyway.”
He picked up the clothes rail without arguing again.
The overtime form appeared on Emmy’s desk a week later.
“Three times the hourly rate?” she asked the payroll clerk.
“New ownership policy. Make sure you record every approved hour.”
She brought the news home as though she had discovered something wonderful in Nathan’s own family.
“Your boss is a good man.”
Nathan reached for the grocery bag. “Thank you.”
Emmy held on to it. “You heard the part about your boss?”
“Yes.”
“Then that thank-you belongs to him.”
Nathan eased the bag from her hands. “Tell me what he’s done.”
She explained the overtime policy while he unpacked onions, rice, and a package of chicken.
“People have faults,” he said. “Even generous employers.”
“Of course. But that doesn’t cancel a good thing.” She put the chicken in the refrigerator. “Tell him somebody at Velmora appreciates it.”
“I will.”
“We earned enough at the stall for that.”
“We?”
“You carried the stock. You sat through mosquitoes. That counts.”
Nathan stayed beside the open refrigerator longer than necessary before closing it.
Over the next several months, Emmy learned the rhythms of the studio. She stayed late when a collection needed finishing, asked questions without pretending she already knew the answers, and corrected mistakes before anyone had to point them out.
When her promotion came, she read the letter twice. Tucked behind it was an invitation to a Veylan anniversary celebration, embossed with a guest category she had never seen before: premier.
Nathan’s mother came to the apartment that weekend carrying so many gift boxes that Emmy had to clear the little table.
“You married my son,” she said. “That makes you my daughter, too.”
Emmy’s throat tightened.
“You don’t have to give me all this.”
“I want to.”
“Then let me keep one thing. Something small.”
Nathan’s mother considered her, then opened a narrow velvet case. Inside lay a pair of green jade earrings.
“These were among my wedding gifts. They’ve spent too much time shut away.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“They’ll suit you.”
Emmy touched the edge of the case.
“I’ll keep them because you called me your daughter.”
His mother closed Emmy’s fingers around it.
“Then wear them.”
On the evening of the celebration, Nathan stood in the apartment doorway while Emmy fastened the earrings.
“You look lovely.”
She turned from the small mirror.
“You’re coming?”
“Later. With my employer.”
“Don’t spend the whole evening guarding him. You should get some dinner.”
“I’ll try.”
She checked the invitation again.
“What if there’s a mistake?”
“There isn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it’s a real invitation.”
She tucked it carefully into her purse.
At the venue, Vanessa Dorr was standing beside the entrance with two women Emmy didn’t know.
“Are you helping serve?” Vanessa asked.
“I’m a guest.”
“Check whatever she’s carrying,” Vanessa told the attendant. “People print things.”
The attendant examined Emmy’s invitation and stepped aside.
“Your entrance is over here, ma’am. Premier guests have a separate reception.”
Vanessa held up her own card.
“My uncle arranged this.”
“Yes, ma’am. Yours admits you through the main doors.”
“She sells clothes in a market.”
The attendant kept his hand extended toward Emmy’s entrance.
“And she has the invitation required for this door.”
Emmy walked through without looking back.
The reception rooms were filled with fabrics she wanted to touch and tailoring she wanted to study. She was examining the back of a beautifully fitted jacket when an announcement interrupted the music.
A rare pair of jade earrings, scheduled for the evening’s jewelry display, would not be shown. The private owners had declined the loan.
Nearby, Vanessa touched her own green earrings.
“My father bought them,” she said loudly enough for several guests to hear. “He wanted me to have something no one else could wear.”
People gathered. Vanessa tilted her head, enjoying the attention, until she saw Emmy.
Her smile vanished.
“Where did you get those?”
“My mother-in-law gave them to me.”
“The bodyguard’s mother?”
One of the women beside Vanessa laughed.
Vanessa stepped closer.
“There is one original pair. Wearing copies doesn’t make you belong here.”
Emmy looked at Vanessa’s earrings. The green was strangely uniform, bright under every light.
“Similar isn’t the same,” she said. “Yours don’t look like mine.”
“You’re accusing my father?”
“I’m answering you.”
An older guest leaned forward.
“The color on that pair is unusual. They may be treated, or imitation.”
Vanessa’s face hardened.
“Everyone knows what she is. Take them off.”
She reached toward Emmy’s ear.
Emmy caught her wrist.
“Don’t touch me.”
Vanessa shoved her. One earring tore loose from its fastening and struck the floor. Its delicate setting snapped against the stone tile.
Emmy knelt to retrieve it.
Nathan was beside her before she could pick up the last piece.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, holding the broken earring in her palm.
Vanessa folded her arms.
“Your husband can buy another imitation.”
Nathan looked up.
“Both pairs will be examined.”
A jeweler attending the exhibition offered his office kit. The tests established that Emmy’s stone was natural jade and Vanessa’s pair was manufactured imitation. Photographs and an identifying mark in the old setting confirmed the provenance of Emmy’s earrings.
The jeweler checked again when Vanessa demanded it. His answer didn’t change.
Around them, the guests began speaking in quieter voices.
Emmy looked only at the broken setting.
“Your mother trusted me with this.”
“She trusted you to wear it,” Nathan said. “You haven’t failed her.”
“What if it can’t be fixed?”
“Then it can’t. I’m asking about you.”
Vanessa had already summoned her uncle.
Malcolm Dorr arrived demanding to know who had upset his niece. Then he saw Nathan kneeling beside Emmy.
His next breath was audible.
“Uncle, fire them,” Vanessa said. “She works at Velmora, and he’s only—”
“Enough.”
“She accused me—”
“Stop talking.”
Malcolm turned to Emmy and apologized. He offered twice the earring’s value.
“I want it repaired,” she said.
“That will be arranged.”
Nathan stood.
“Your niece used your influence to obtain a job, stole another applicant’s design, and has now assaulted her. Her access to your family business ends.”
Malcolm nodded.
Vanessa stared.
“You’re listening to a bodyguard?”
Owen came through the gathering crowd.
“Anything Nathan decides has my full backing.”
Malcolm told Vanessa that the companies and partners connected to his office would be informed of her conduct. Then he took her away from the reception.
In an empty corridor, she pulled free of his hand.
“Why are you afraid of him?”
“Because that man is Nathan Vale.”
“I know his name.”
“No. You know the lie you chose to believe. He owns Veylan…”
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