At Last

II

Nicholas Jonas sues New York Paternity for tampering with DNA tests, accuses ex wife Demetria Lovato for paying for fake results - read full story here

It was the first thing she saw in her inbox when she arrived at work the next morning. She had powered up her Mac, expecting an email from Michael Kors's assistant about the collaboration for a teen line but instead she saw that headline from the New York Post. The New York Post. Why the hell was the New York Post entertaining such a sleazy story?

"MARISSA!" Demi called, tapping her nails on her glass desk three times before Marissa appeared in her office with her iPad clutched in her hand. Maybe Demi was seeing things but on the brightened screen was definitely a picture of her and Nick side by side, photoshopped to look like it was ripped down the middle. Marissa's eyes widened as she realized what Demi was staring at and she quickly locked her iPad before making eye contact with her boss again.

"Gather the staff. Every single one of them. They have two minutes to be in conference room two and I want complete silence when I walk in," Demi demanded as Marissa nodded before scurrying out of her office and going to get all of the staff together. It was supposed to be work as usual but as soon as Demi had walked into the lobby and the blonde receptionist had eyed her and what looked like two interns had whispered to each other while staring at her, she knew that things weren't going to be normal unless she addressed her staff. Even with everything going on they needed to stay focused on the big picture and that was the teen line.

Getting out of bed this morning had been nothing short of a struggle but she made sure that she still looked good because that was her job. She couldn't look like how she felt on the inside or else she would be ridiculed for days. She walked over to the mirror in her office and fixed her rose colored v neck, pulling it away from her collarbones so that it was a little more loose. She twisted her skirt so that the slit lined up on her thigh the right way and made sure that there weren't any tips in her nylons. Her trembling fingers combed through her hair, which she had actually taken the time to straighten before leaving the house. She could do this. She was the boss. And no matter what was going on, everyone still had to be on their A game...including her.

She was in conference room two in three minutes. When her employees saw her walking past the glass walls to get to the door, they all stopped their gossiping and their giggles and were silent as their boss entered and stood in the front of the room with her frazzled assistant standing next to her. Demi folded her arms in front of her, taking in all of the people that had tirelessly helped her day in and day out to get her company to where it was now.

"Good morning," Demi chirped, taking nearly everyone by surprise.

"Good morning," they all responded, waiting for whatever she was going to say next.

"As you all know there's been a lot of stories about me in the papers lately, and none of them have anything to do with this company. I'm not here to explain what's going on to you, because quite frankly it's none of your business, but I am here to tell you this: anyone who talks about what's going on to anyone, whether that be your coworker, family members, the guy who delivers your mail, random reporters who will hunt you down and beg you for a quote, and anyone else, will be fired, effective immediately. We have far more important things to worry about than what's going on in these ridiculous tabloids and I need your heads on the designs and the brands, because it's my job to handle everything else, okay? And I'm going to do my job so I need you to do yours. Do you understand?" Demi explained, unclasping her hands and letting her eyes sweep around the room, briefly making eye contact with everyone in there so that they knew she was serious. Of course she was serious. She always kept her word.