“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Vivien exclaimed, knowing that enthusiasm sometimes softened Fiona’s opinions.
But this time, she looked horrified.
“It’s…it’s…it’s not…” She closed her eyes as if she were rooting to the center of the earth for composure. “I hate it.” She marched closer to the glass, looking like she intended to smash it into oblivion for seven times seven years of bad luck. “This is not what I wanted. Iloathevintage.”
Vivien’s stomach sank. “But Fiona, it’s a statement piece. A frameless mirror would look?—”
“Iwanta frameless mirror.” Fiona cut her off. “Something modern. Clean. Not this…thing.”
Vivien exhaled slowly.Okay, deep breath. You can find a compromise.“I know you wanted modern, but I promise you this is going to elevate the whole space. It’s not gaudy, there’s no gold or?—”
“Vivien,” Fiona interrupted with a pointed glare. “Get rid of it.”
Vivien clenched her jaw, swallowing the frustration burning in her throat. “Okay,” she forced out. “I’ll take care of it.”
Fiona turned on her heel, walking into the house. Vivien followed cautiously, already sensing deep in her bones what was about to happen. Going rogue might not have been a good idea.
Fiona froze in the middle of her soaring two stories and stared at the walls.
And then, slowly, she turned back to Vivien, her expression unreadable. “In what universe, Vivien, is this pure white?”
Vivien lifted her chin, preparing for war. “It’s Alabaster.”
“This isnotthe color I picked.”
Vivien’s pulse pounded and, once again, she was thrown down a memory hole, staring at her mother, who merely lifted one eyebrow and made her kids cower. But this wasn’t Maggie Lawson!
“You hired me for my professional?—”
Fiona’s sharp inhale cut her off.
“I told youwhite,” she snapped, stepping forward. “I told youexactlywhat I wanted, and this isnotit. Pure, unadulterated, plain white. Why can’t you justlisten?”
Vivien clenched her teeth. “Itiswhite. It’s just a softer white, Fiona. Pure white would make this house feel?—”
“I don’t care how itfeels,” Fiona seethed. “I care about what Iasked for.”
Vivien swallowed hard, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. This was it. The moment. The moment where she either stood up for herself or caved like she always did.
She took a breath and straightened her back as if a ramrod held it up.
“If I’m going to design this house, Fiona, I’m going to preserve its character,” Vivien said, her voice calm but firm. “I can make it modern. I can make it contemporary. But I willnotmake it soulless.”
Fiona’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Then I’ll find someone else.”
The words sliced through Vivien’s chest. For a second, she didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Then Fiona turned to the workers. “Stop everything. Get rid of the mirror. Repaint the walls. And Vivien—” She turned back, her voice like steel. “You can leave now and please don’t come back. We’re finished.”
Vivien stared at her, then nodded stiffly. “Understood.”
She turned on her heel, grabbed her bag on the floor the entryway, and walked out of the house without another word.
Her legs felt like lead as she made her way to her SUV, her chest tight, her hands shaking. She had stood up for herself. She had spoken her mind. And now?
She was fired.
So much for a backbone.At least doormats got a paycheck.
