Too Late To Love Me I Already Left With His Twins (Lydia and Dave) novel Chapter 49

Lydia POV

The next day at work, my assistant walked in balancing three files, an iPad, and the expression of a woman who had accepted chaos as a career condition.

“Morning, boss.”

“Morning.”

She dropped the files onto my desk.

“New cases. Two are standard panic. One is interesting.”

That got my attention.

She slid the top file toward me.

“Bellamore.”

I looked up.

“The Bellamore retail group?”

She nodded.

“The Bellamore retail group.”

Well.

That was interesting.

Bellamore was one of the biggest luxury department store chains in Country Z. Elegant branding. Expensive campaigns. The sort of company people associated with polished marble floors and women who wore perfume that cost more than rent.

I opened the file.

Then blinked.

Then read it again.

A leaked video had surfaced online the night before.

A Black woman in one of Bellamore’s flagship stores had been followed by security while shopping. The footage showed an employee whispering to another while pointing at her bag. Then security approached her near the exit and demanded to search her belongings.

She had bought everything legally.

Receipt and all.

Someone in the store had filmed the entire thing.

Now the internet was doing what the internet does best when handed justified outrage.

Burning.

Bellamore’s stock had dropped four percent overnight.

Three celebrity ambassadors had quietly unfollowed them.

Their current public statement–attached in the file–was so sterile and defensive it looked like it had been generated by men in

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matching navy suits who had never once been told no.

I leaned back in my chair.

Interesting indeed.

My assistant hovered.

“Well?”

“They’re treating it like a PR issue.”

She frowned. “It is a PR issue.”

“No.” I tapped the file. “It’s a dignity issue with PR consequences. Different thing entirely.”

Her pen came out immediately.

“They do not need an apology drafted by legal. They need accountability that looks human. Immediate suspension of involved staff pending review. Public meeting with the woman affected if she agrees. Independent bias audit. Fund community retail scholarships while they’re at it.”

She scribbled furiously.

“And if they’re smart?”

“They let the woman tell them exactly how humiliating it felt before they speak another word.”

My assistant nodded slowly.

“I’ll schedule the strategy meeting.”

“Good.”

She left.

I stared at the file a little longer.

Then smiled.

I did love difficult people with expensive problems.

By lunch, my brain had turned to static.

So I escaped to the staff dining room with an Italian salad I had ordered entirely because the menu described it as deconstructed and I wanted to know what crime had been committed against a normal salad to justify that word. 1

Turns out it was just regular salad arranged with confidence.

I had just sat down when one of the interns hovered near my table.

Young.

Nervous.

Holding her tray like it might betray her.

“Ma’am?”

I looked up.

“Yes?”

“Gau I sit?”

“Only if you stop calling me ma’am. You’re making me feel preserved.”

She laughed awkwardly and sat.

Her name was Talia. New intake. Smart but visibly terrified of existing-

She poked at her food for a while before blurting-

“How do you know when you’re good enough for this job?”

I swallowed.

Ah.

That kind of lunch.

“You don’t.”

She blinked.

“What?”

“You do the work anyway. Then one day you look up and realize people stopped questioning whether you belong.”

She frowned down at her fork.

“I just feel like everyone here is smarter than me.”

“They aren’t.”

She looked unconvinced.

“They’re just louder.”

That got a smile.

I pointed my fork at her.

“Confidence is not competence. Learn the difference early and your life improves dramatically.”

She nodded slowly.

Then

“You make it look easy.”

I laughed.

That was adorable.

“No, I make it look practiced.”

And there was a difference.

A brutal one.

Back in my office, I sent out the Bellamore action memo.

Subject line:

Stop Apologising Like You’re Being Held Hostage

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I had not been online in nearly three months.

Work.

Cyn.

No wonder Cyn looked so familiar the first time I saw her, she was one of Iny’s friends.

Caption:

I sat up straighter.

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Because apparently