Stevie’s POVI swear to God, if one more person emails me about this campaign, I’m gonna set my laptop on fire and walk into the ocean.Okay, maybe not the ocean — this is LA, and I’d probably step on a hypodermic needle before I even hit the water. But you get the point.The launch of Etoile de Col
Calvin’s POVThe numbers don’t lie, but today, they feel like they’re mocking me. I’ve been staring at the same financial projections for twenty minutes, and not a single line of data is sticking. This is rare for me — unheard of, really. Usually, I could recite these reports backward in my sleep. B
Stevie’s POVI’m sitting on the edge of my bathtub, staring at a little stick on the counter like it’s a grenade about to go off. My hands are shaking. My heart feels like it’s trying to beat its way out of my chest.It’s been three minutes.Three. Long. Fucking. Minutes.The instructions said that’
Bill’s POVSerena’s doing that thing again.The thing where she picks at her food but doesn’t actually eat it. She pushes the salad around her plate, stabbing a cherry tomato like it insulted her mother. I lean back in my chair, watching her, trying to figure out if this is work stress or something
Stevie’s POVI shouldn’t have worn these heels.It’s the first thing I think as I step into the ballroom, my feet already protesting the dumb idea of combining sky-high stilettos and a body that feels like it’s actively rebelling against me. My stomach’s been on the verge of staging a full-blown mut
Serena’s POVI spot Stevie slipping out of the ballroom as I’m finishing up a conversation with a PR exec. She moves quickly, almost like she’s trying not to be seen, but I know her too well. The slight wobble in her steps, the way she clutches her bag like it’s holding her together — it’s a dead gi
Calvin’s POVI see her before she sees me.Stevie’s stepping out of the building, her bag slung over her shoulder, sunglasses perched on her nose. She looks like she’s trying to blend into the crowd, which is almost funny considering Stevie Malone doesn’t exactly do subtle.“Stevie,” I call, walking
Stevie’s POVI’m pacing my living room, muttering to myself like a lunatic.“Calvin, listen—no, that’s too polite.” I stop and shake my head, trying again. “Look, Calvin, I don’t owe you an explanation. That’s better. Straight to the point. No room for debate.”I glance at the mirror above my couch
Stevie‘s POV“Calvin, I can’t just say yes.”The words tumble out before I can stop them, hanging in the air between us. His eyes, which had been so hopeful, cloud over with something I can’t quite place—disappointment, maybe, or worry.We’re sitting in my apartment, the baby gear shoved into the co
Stevie‘s POVThe lens feels foreign in my hands at first, like it’s judging me for neglecting it for so long. I twist the focus ring back and forth, snapping shots of random things in my apartment: the pile of laundry I still haven’t done, the chipped paint on the windowsill, the vase of wilted dais
Serena‘s POVI can’t focus. Not on the new campaign proposals sitting in front of me, not on the email from our partners in Paris, and definitely not on the cup of tea I made an hour ago that’s gone cold on my desk.All I can think about is Stevie.Her face, flushed with anger, tears glistening in h
Calvin‘s POVThe buzz of my phone pulls me out of my focus, its vibration rattling against the glass surface of my desk. It’s another alert, no doubt tied to the leak at Etoile de Collin. The headlines have been relentless: “Scandal Rocks Global Launch,” “Is Etoile de Collin Losing Its Shine?”I don
Stevie‘s POVThe click of my camera is the only sound in my apartment. The blinds are half-drawn, letting in just enough light to paint soft streaks across the floor. I’ve spent the last hour taking photos of mundane things — a chipped coffee mug, the shadow of my old ficus, the crumpled blanket I t
Calvin’s POVThe call comes in just as I’m reviewing a financial report in my office. It’s Serena, and I can tell immediately from her clipped tone that something’s off.“Calvin, we have a situation,” she says, not bothering with pleasantries.I lean back in my chair, setting the report aside. “What
Serena’s POVI tap my pen against the edge of the conference table, staring at the open file in front of me. My head’s buzzing, not from caffeine—I haven’t had nearly enough of that today—but from the words staring back at me in black and white.“Are you sure about this?” I ask Grace, my PR director
Calvin’s POVI’ve been staring at her address on my phone for ten minutes, trying to work up the courage to get out of the car. It’s ridiculous. I’ve faced down corporate takeovers and boardroom ambushes without flinching, but this? This feels harder.Stevie’s apartment building looms in front of me
Bill’s POVThe sound of waves crashing against the shore is a far cry from the usual buzz of our daily lives. No conference calls, no meetings, no tantrums over spilled cereal. Just the ocean, the wind, and Collin’s laughter as he runs across the sand, a kite string gripped tightly in his little han