Make the Cut (SAMPLE)

Chapter One: Poppy Black

LOS ANGELES, 2021

I'm going to be fired. There are no maybes about it this time.

As I watch Cynthia Renaud pace her spacious corner office, my nerves are on edge.

Everything I've worked for these past five years is about to come crashing down, and I have no one to blame but myself. Or, more specifically, my hubris.

Well, that and a somewhat successful gossip blog that had over seven million followers on Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok, but no one knew about that until five minutes ago. At least, no one knew it was me who wrote it.

Until my now ex-boyfriend, Dean Sterling shared an Instagram post from the blog, and tagged me as the author, because he was tired of "always coming second to my career." And, did I mention that the post was about my boss's dirty secrets? For example, she always buys a second first-class seat when flying to store her garment bags, her husband is leaving her because he had a gay awakening, and her Birkin bag is a knockoff... Well, you get the idea.

I'm screwed.

"You will never work in fashion again," Cynthia says as if to punctuate my doomed thought spiral.

I wish she wore stilettos. If she wore stilettos, I would have a reason to dislike her. She would be the cliché Devil Wears Prada boss, whose every word is marked by the staccato click of high heels. Instead, she's one of those women who wear sneakers everywhere, and if you didn't know any big names in the fashion industry, you might mistake her for an athleisure fanatic or a regular Lululemon shopper.

"I can't believe you thought you could get away with this." She shakes her head, her blonde locks pulled back into a low ponytail. "You can forget about getting any severance benefits. You're lucky I'm not suing you."

A shudder goes down my spine. How did this all get so out of control? One minute, I had a thriving fashion career at La Mode. Now, I'm about to lose both of my jobs. I see someone live-tweeting my demise right now. I'll be lucky if I walk out of here without the Internet knowing I'm not just the younger sister of Ryder Black—a world-famous pop star—but also the writer behind Muse Unmasked, every netizen's most loved or hated gossip blog.

Yeah. I'm not just going to never work in fashion again. I'll probably never get a job in L.A. again.

"Why are you still here? Do you think your famous brother will save you? Not likely, since you're the one who spilled his secrets." She sneers. "The sheer disloyalty. Your brazen audacity and willingness to sell your own boss's dirty laundry are astonishing. I'm the one who gave you any position or clout at all in this business, Poppy. You should be ashamed of yourself."

I am, but not for the reasons she thinks I should be. No, each word coming out of her Chanel lipstick-coated mouth is just a reminder of the reasons I started my blog in the first place, even if it's now tornadoed wildly out of my control.

"Get out!" she snaps. Jerking one unvarnished fingernail toward the door, she even stomps her Nike-clad foot. "You're never going to work in this industry again. You'll be lucky if you ever work in this city once I'm through with you."

Anger mingles with indignation and surges through my chest. After my ex-boyfriend's fresh betrayal, which still smoulders in my chest, pain and fury make my heart throb in my ribcage, pounding to get out. I don't want to endure another minute of her tirade with mute shame, as if I agree with a single word she's said.

I've been hurt too many times in the last week to just suffer her scolding in silence.

"Well, you'll be lucky if you ever hire another person after I'm through with you!" Probably not the wisest words to slip from my lips when I'm being fired.