Journey to Fortune [Power Surge

By: Dixie Lynn Dywer



The others were complimenting her and Bethany was thanking them. She hadn’t done shit. She hadn’t come up with squat.

Tia Rose looked up from the magazine and locked gazes with Bethany. That smug, nasty model was so damn sure she got away with this, and it irked Tia Rose inside. She saw Mark chuckle as if he knew what the real deal was. Everyone probably knew that Bethany stole Tia’s ideas. She hated that fact, and mostly, she hated being made a fool of.

As Bethany was asked about a particular design created on an outdoor scene, near the water, and a boating marina. She began to make up a story about a trip to Hawaii, and the color of the ocean in the background.

“Don’t you mean Lake George?” Tia Rose asked as she lifted the magazine and showed everyone the picture.

“What?” Bethany asked.

“Lake George. That scene isn’t in Hawaii.”

“How can you tell me where the scene was? I’m the one who created that catalogue and I know where I shot the pictures,” Bethany replied.

Tia Rose raised her eyebrows. “You shot the pictures? You don’t even know how to use your iPhone. I set up everything on the phone for you when you got it and you still screw things up.”

Bethany gasped. “You’re lying.”

“You want to talk about lying, honey? Let’s talk about lying.” Tia Rose stood up and walked the catalogue to the front of the room and to where Bethany sat a few seats down from Bernadette.

She slammed the book down in front of Bethany and turned to another page.

“Where did you take this shot?”

No answer.

“What type of wood is used in the kitchen design?”

“I don’t remember. It was months ago.”

Tia Rose turned to another page and asked again, and then she began to explain on every page, where every scene was shot and from her own camera.

“I have those pictures on my thumb drive and in a file. If you were smart, instead of a conniving bimbo, when you stole all my designs, all my months of hard work, then you should have taken the photos, too, and brushed up on your geography.”

“You’re claiming my work as your own? How dare you? I don’t have to sit here and take this.” Bethany began to rise, and then Tia Rose placed her hand on Bethany’s shoulder and smiled wickedly at her. It felt so good.

“Please stay. I think everyone will want to hear about this trip to Hawaii for research to do this scene. That was back in February during the blizzard here in New York, right?” Tia Rose asked, and then turned to another page, where there was a gorgeous winter scene that could be seen through the windows of a formal living room. The fireplace mantel was Tia Rose’s design.

She slammed her hand down on the magazine.

“These are my ideas, my concept, my creations, and not yours.”

“Tia Rose. That is quite the allegation,” Mrs. Sinclair stated.

“Bernadette, be quiet. Let Tia Rose state her case,” Cade stated. Tia Rose felt her cheeks warm. She looked around the room. She saw the stunned expressions. None of them would believe her. They would believe Bethany.

“Mrs. Sinclair, I mean no disrespect when I say this, but if you think Bethany created these designs and worked for months to come up with a mock catalogue on her own, then you’re not as in tune to your loyal employees as I always thought you were.”

Bernadette gasped. Cade smiled.

“She’s out of her mind. She should be fired,” Bethany stated.

Tia Rose took a deep breath and looked around the room. “You all know about the lies, the practical jokes, and mean and hurtful things Bethany has done to me since I started working for Malone’s. But you also know Bethany. Who is the one who is always staying late, never taking vacation time, and always there to help each and every one of you when you drop the ball, fall short with your deadlines, or need a bit of creative advice?”

She looked at them then pointed to herself.

“Me.”

“She’s insane. She shouldn’t be here,” Bethany stated.

“Maybe we should call security,” Mark suggested.

“Don’t bother. I quit. But I’m taking my catalogue, my pictures, and my hard work along with me. If you try to steal my ideas, I’ll slap a lawsuit on your tiny stuck-up ass so fast you won’t know what hit you. And I can do that. Because I edited every picture, design, and concept in this magazine. You should learn how to do the job you’ve been getting paid nearly two Gs to do, Bethany. Kiss my ass.”

Tia Rose felt so triumphant that she wanted to fist pump and scream “hell yeah.” But as she grabbed her bag and scooped up the catalogue, not bothering to look around, she heard the others begin to speak as Bernadette demanded that she stay. She turned to listen. Everyone was making comments, admitting that Tia Rose helped them all along and they knew Bethany was using her. Everyone knew that Bethany continued to steal Tia’s ideas.

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