Looking up from the clutter on my desk, I watch Oli open the glass door, her face surprisingly white. My insides twist- nervously. Dear lord, what now?
"What? What is it?"
"Your mother."
It takes me a moment to process that name. "My mother?"
"Yes, Vivienne is by my desk, demanding to speak with you."
Feeling only anger, I raise a brow. "Demanding?"
"Pretty much. Do you want me to call security?"
I set aside the switches, pressing my lips together in a smile. "No, I'll go get her."
"Iris..."
I stand up, rounding my desk. I've lost one person this week- why not make it two?
"I've got this."
"Iris..." she repeats as I pass her, walking down the carpet, my head high. She's standing by Oli's desk, wearing a tie-dyed dress to the floor, her ebony hair down and wild. She smiles softly as I approach, stopping a couple feet away from her.
"We can speak in my office."
I ignore the looks of my staff, aware of the fact that most of them know my background as an orphan. I can infer by their stares that they don't expect this to go well.
"Okay," she murmurs, nodding. I gesture her before me, not bothering to hide my look of distaste. The fact that I look exactly like her is infuriating.
With a quick look to Oli, I shut the door behind her. "You can take a seat."
She does, looking nervous. "It's- good to see you. Thank you for seeing me."
"I don't have a lot of time. I have an doctor's appointment in an hour."
"I heard you were sick. I wanted to come- but your assistant, Viktor, told me it was best that I didn't."
I nod, taking a seat at my desk. "Yes, well-"
"Will you let me explain? I've been trying to get in the same room with you for- years. I need to explain- tell you why we did it..."
"Left me in an airport bathroom?" I utter, staring at her with every intention to intimidate.
She looks down. "We had to do it. We couldn't support you- I was fifteen, Iris. I couldn't support a child. Your father certainly couldn't either. He had some trouble with his schooling- expelled a lot- that kind of thing. His parents turned us away. Mine were dead. We had no-"
"Choice. I hear that."
Her lip trembles, but she sits straight, head held high. "We knew you would be found there."
"You left me- a helpless child in a goddamn airport! Why didn't you take me to a hospital?"
"I don't know."
"Yes, you do! Tell me!"
Her eyes flicker around, nervously. "Because- because..."
"Oh, come on!" I shout, rolling my eyes.
"I couldn't face the people at the hospital!" she cries, tears now spilling down her cheeks. "I couldn't face anyone! I wanted you- I loved you. I do love you!"
"Don't you dare use that word to describe what you felt for me. It was not love!"
"It was! It was love! I knew we couldn't support you and rather than have you die on the street, struggling with us, I made the decision to give you to someone else that could care for you!"
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RomanceIris Tremaine is an icon. A fashion icon. At twenty-six years old, she's at the top of the fashion industry, having created a multi-national corporation, designing for both runway and retail. She's one of the richest, most-admired women in the wor...