Josh and Gemma Make a Baby(86)

Ian shakes his head. “Actually. It doesn’t. I had my lawyers copyright, trademark and legally bind it to me years ago. Josh would have a hell of a time proving ownership. Besides, he never tried, did he? He could’ve taken me to court. But he didn’t. Instead he decided to quit and start a comic.”

I stare at him in shock. “But you stole from him. You lied. Everything you’ve done is based on a lie.”

Ian sighs and runs his hand through his thick hair. “Gemma. Grow up. Josh was never going to do anything with this book. It’s a glorified sketchpad that he left in a desk drawer. I saw it and realized the potential. I took it and made a multi-million-dollar business that has changed millions of people’s lives. What’s wrong with that? Tell me. The worth of a person is measured in the fruit of their actions. My ‘stealing’ and ‘lying’ has given millions of people hope.”

I’m so stunned by his logic that I can’t think of anything to say. Because in a way, he’s right. No matter what he did, no matter how rotten of a person he is, the words that he put out helped people.

I press my hand against my stomach. I feel slightly ill.

Ian lifts an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be sick again.”

I shake my head.

Ian nods. “Good.” He gives me a searching look. “So you understand me then? Josh has never been a go-getter. He’s a living example of his own quote, I never regret the doing, only the not doing. He is an example of not doing. For example, it’s clear he has feelings for you, but he hasn’t acted on them, has he? He let me steal his work, and then he let me steal his girl.”

I clench my fists together and resist the urge to punch him in the face. Now I understand exactly why Josh laid him out on Valentine’s Day. I’d like to do exactly that. “You didn’t steal me.”

“Near enough,” Ian says. “That’s not the point. Here’s the deal. Three quarters of my staff has quit in outrage because of the ‘incident.’ The media is having a field day tearing my carefully built image apart. I need you. You believe in this organization as much as I do. I need you to issue a statement that you and I were role-playing a situation of how not to talk to others and it was all in good fun. Then we can come out with a series of videos about self-esteem for women in the workplace.”

I let out a disbelieving noise and Ian raises his eyebrows.

“Furthermore,” he says with the confident smile that I once found attractive, “next month, you’ll be promoted to vice president of Live Your Best Life Starting Now, where you will spearhead an overhaul of our image and the recruitment of new staff. With a commensurate pay raise, of course. Think of it, Gemma. You’ve worked so hard. You believe in our message. You can help me reach millions of people and get the credit you deserve. We can do great things together. We can make a difference.”

I look down at the journal, at the drawing of my teenage self, staring up at the sky. I wonder what I saw in the clouds that day, what I dreamed of. I wonder what Josh was thinking when he lay there next to me, when he drew this picture.

Ian watches me intently. “You have to see the reality, Gemma. Remember what I told you before? If Alexander Graham Bell hadn’t stolen from Elisha Gray we wouldn’t have the telephone as we know it. If Edison hadn’t stolen from Tesla, where would we be? If Zworykin hadn’t stolen from Farnsworth we wouldn’t have television. Imagine that, by your reasoning there is a lie, a crime behind every television in the world. But isn’t it better to be on the side of progress and not limit that?”

I look at Ian and nod in understanding. I get exactly where he’s coming from.

Ian took Josh’s work and made it into something that changed lives.

“You’re right. The only limitations we have are the ones we place on ourselves,” I say.

He gives me his bright white, toothy grin that has wooed millions of hearts.

“I knew you’d see it my way.”

I brush my hand over the pages of the journal. “I do.”

I shut the pages of the book. Ian watches as I do.

Then I say, “The thing is, I don’t think I want to be vice president.”

“Really?”

I lift my chin. “I’d rather be COO.”

Ian gives a low chuckle. “Second only under CEO? Directly under me? Quite the negotiator.” His eyes flicker to the journal. “You have more balls than I thought.”

I pick up the heavy book and feel the soft worn leather of the binding. “Right. I’d like to be Chief Operating Officer of Never Working With You Again. Because if I did, the limitation I’d place on myself would be becoming a grade-A ass for the rest of my life. So, no thanks, Ian. You can take your enterprise, your reputation, your promotion and your philosophy and you can shove it. I quit.”

Ian’s face turns an unhealthy shade of splotchy red. “That’s a mistake, Gemma.”

I back away toward the door. “I don’t think so.” I lift the book, “I’m taking this. It’s not yours.”

He bares his teeth, “I have digital copies.”

I keep walking away. “Good luck in life. There’s one quote that isn’t in this book that I think you should know.”

“Really?” he drawls.

I open his office door and say, “It goes like this, you’re a jerk and a liar and a thief and I’d rather have a dead-end job posting sad kitten memes about hemorrhoids than work another second with you.”