Out of Focus #SYTYCW15 Top10 Finalist! [COMPLETED]

31| It's Over

"No."

"To what, exactly?"

"All of it.

"We're not having a social, or gathering or whatever else you want to call it." Jenelle moved forward but Eva stayed her with a lift of her hand. "We're not putting together a printed book and we're most certainly not ferreting me off for a makeover. No."

Letitia set her teeth, shifted on heels that ground into the floors with frustrated venom. She lanced Jenelle with a hot glare. "You told me she'd be cooperative."

Jenelle's normally dewy skin was now paper white. "I...well, I didn't think. Mrs. Reid." But she was speaking to the woman's retreating back and after muttering a vehement,

"Do you mind telling me what that was all about?"

"If you know what's best for you, leave me alone, Jen."

"No, no we're going to talk about this," Jenelle snagged Eva's arm, stopping her retreat. Furious, Eva shrugged off her grip and rounded like a snarling Pitbull.

"What is it with you fucking Davies and your inability to take 'No' for an answer? Is this a skill you're taught, or a trait acquired at birth?"

"The hell is your problem?"

"My problem is you're not hearing me. My problem is being ambushed—but that woman," she practically screamed, "coming in here, attacking me. Threatening me."

"What...what are you talking about? No one threatened anything, unless you call a 'makeover' a threat, then sure. Fine."

Oh but she had been threatened. Catherine Clear. Eva had almost let the name slip and now bit back on it.

"Eva, I don't know what's going on with you, but I was just trying to do my job. You hired me to manage this gallery, to make it a success. To grow the business; I can't do that with you kyboshing every move I make."

Snarling, Eva rounded and struck the only thing safe to hit—the wall of exposed brick. "I hired you to manage the place. The gallery. The sales. The clients. Not my business model. And certainly not my life."

That jolted Jenelle straight and she rocked as if she'd been the one punched. And though her face registered hurt, her silver eyes stayed clear as window glass.

"I see. Well, if that's how you feel then consider this my notice, Eva. I've reached the limits of my endurance to put up with your snarling, childish mood swings. Since you're so keen on being left alone, do it yourself."

Setting her keys on the counter, Jenelle walked past her and out the front doors.

#

"Thank you, yes I'll send you the pages." Hanging up the phone, Marshall whooped, socking an excited fist in the air. Shortly after making the decision to bow out of the CTV race, he'd decided that his pages of 'Insanity' showed the promising bones of a gritty, personal memoir.

So he'd fleshed them out further, breathed life and blood into the words, and drafted a proposal, outlining his thoughts and the books overall arc. He'd call it Healing Scars, because that in essence what this was all about.

And recalling the slew of calls he'd dodged when the media craze surrounding his return to Canadian soil, Marshall flipped the book proposal in an email to an editor who'd hounded him for near a month, begging to take him on board.

Her response pinged back with a bold, all capped 'YES', which lead to an hour long phone call and an offer of representation. Apparently, despite Danni's posturing and threats, the publishing world was more than happy to receive him.