Chapter 18 – Morgan
18
GET IN THE HOUSE MORGAN
MORGAN
Something had shifted with Lance.
The second driving lesson had gone better than the first. And bonus, I didn't run over him this time.
I already felt much better about driving.
You know better. Sort yourself out. You cannot do this again.
I wasn't falling for him or anything. I was just taking note of my surprise at how great he was. He'd been really thoughtful.
No. See? Right there. Careful now before you actually fall in love with him because that would be a goddamn disaster.
I finished sewing another asymmetrical skirt by hand because the good sewing machine was currently occupied. It was all right, it was only a hidden seam, and it would be perfect for the fit model. Miriam had arranged for a couple of trainee models to come by.
I'd found one that loved my style and who completely encapsulated it. So next time she came in, I'd have her try it on and do a little wear test. See if it held up with basic movements around the city. I wanted my stuff to be adorable and durable. After all, what was the purpose of it looking good if it wasn't sustainable and you had to replace it every couple of years?
"There she is. Working hard," came a voice by the door.
Surprised, I whipped around. "Hi, Mr. DuLac.”
He waved a hand. "Now remember, I said call me Hector."
"I got your notes on my proposal, and I have the new one for you. Just give me one second." I tied off my thread and hung up the skirt before grabbing the updated business plan from my backpack.
"Obviously, I emailed it to you, too. But if you are anything like my brother-in-law, then your email is a hellscape. And I figured sometimes it's nice not to read on your phone in the car or something. So here you go."
He gave me a broad smile. "Wow, you are prepared." He leaned around me to look at my collection. "I see you've been working hard, too."
"Yes. Given that it didn't work out with my last collection, I've been rebuilding it. I've got six of the twelve pieces already. I had a friend come in and finish up some stitching for me, and I've been here every available moment I've got. So I think in about a month or two, I'll be ready to show it."
He nodded. "Do you mind me asking what happened to your last collection?"
I was not going to clue him in on my shitty family dynamics.
"Let's just say it wasn't the collection for me."
He nodded slowly. "You are exactly the kind of client I like to work with. Discreet, professional. You're going to go far, Morgan."
I smiled, pride filling my chest. "Yeah, I hope so. I have a lot of big plans and big ideas, so I'm working hard."
"And you have a day job, right? You're not here all the time?”
"Yes. I work at Pendragon Tech in the marketing department. Different industries, but it's a great way to see what marketing looks like from the ground up and what I want to utilize and apply to my own business."
"I know some people at Pendragon. Who do you work for there?"
It was on the tip of my tongue to say that I worked for Lance, but technically he wasn't my boss.
"Darren Summers. He's more on the business development side."
"Oh, okay. I'm not familiar with him. I deal with more of the C-level people."
It almost tripped off my tongue to ask him if he knew Atticus, Micah, and Lance. But I didn't because that would give me away. And right now, even though he was a bit of a pompous ass, I had his respect. Which I wanted to keep, especially if he was mentoring me.
"Are you almost done here? Do you want to grab a bite to eat?" he asked.
I glanced at the time. "Oh my God. It's almost 10:30. I didn't even notice."
"Oh, I guess it's a little late for dinner then,” he said with a laugh. “Nightcap?"
A nightcap? Not a terrific idea.
"I wish. But unfortunately, I have a very early meeting in the morning, so I’ve got to grab a ride and get home."
"Why don't I drive you home, and you can fill me in on the finer aspects of the updates you've made, and then we’ll set a time for lunch so I can give you some feedback."
Now a lunch I could do.
"You don't mind driving me?"
"Not at all. I have a driver, and you and I can get acquainted."
He was my mentor. My adviser had introduced us, so why was I getting that little niggling feeling while the hairs on the back of my neck came to attention?
Drop a pin to Lance.
That seemed like the smart thing to do.
I moved my clothing rack back into the secured area that would get locked up when the last of us left. I grabbed my backpack and my notes and sketches.
As soon as we were outside, a sleek black Bugatti sedan slid up to the corner with a driver in an all-black suit.
I went ahead and dropped my pin for Lance and fired off a quick text. On my way home. Mentor giving me a ride . Not that I had to let him know where I was. It was just a common courtesy.
Sure, it was. It was. God, this was a mess.
"You seem lost in thought," he said.
I dragged myself out of my reverie and tucked my phone in my back pocket. "Sorry. I was letting my roommate know that I was on my way home."
He nodded. "Right. How long have you guys lived together?"
"Oh, I've known him forever, but it's a new living arrangement. I'm just trying to be a good roommate."
As I hadn’t been great about that part so far.
He smiled. "Very thoughtful. I'm sure you are well-liked at Pendragon."
"Yeah. I've got a good team. I’m adjusting."
"I know how it is when you first start a new job,” he said with a nod. “Anyone giving you trouble?"
Lance's face popped in my head. "You know, just getting used to the new dynamics."
"Well, I'm sure you'll be fine. So you work for Darren. Who does he report to?"
"One of the C-suite guys,” I said, wondering what was with all the questions.
"Right, right. I know almost all of them. Atticus Price, of course. There's also his brother, Micah Price."
"Yes, I've met them."
He lifted a brow. "What? They make it a habit of popping by the marketing bay, do they?"
I backpedaled, feeling like I’d revealed too much. "They're very involved in the company. There isn't anything that happens there that they don't know about."
That was true. But there was something about how he asked the questions that made me feel like he was fishing for something, and I didn't know why. And I didn't exactly want him to know the connection. He was helping me, and I wanted his respect. I didn't want him to look at me any differently once he found out I was Atticus's sister-in-law. I wanted him to take me seriously.
"Anyway, I do love it there. It's interesting and I like learning.”
"Right. Of course you will."
His car pulled up to the loft, and he lifted a brow. "This is where you live?"
"Yeah. Like I said, I've got a roommate."
"Your roommate must do extremely well because I don't remember marketing salaries being enough to cover a loft in SoHo, Morgan."
I gave him a tight smile. "Thank you for the ride."
He smiled back, but something about his smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and I felt another shiver of warning.
Before I knew what was happening, he jumped out and was already marching around the other side to come and open my door. When he did, I took his proffered hand and assistance out of the car. "You don't need to do that. I'm all good. Thank you again for the ride."
"Maybe I should walk you in."
My back stiffened. "No, that’s okay. You know, my roommate is waiting for me, so I'll just?—"
"Yeah, she's all good."
I whipped around.
Lance .
I don't know why I felt an overwhelming sense of relief, because the look on his face should not have had me feeling safe. He looked murderous.
Like that time last year when I had gone out with friends and this guy had gotten handsy with me and wouldn't let me leave. Lance and Atticus had come to rescue me. And Lance had, well, I'd never seen him like that before. He had hit the guy. He’d more than hit him.
Okay, if I was being honest, he broke the guy's nose, chipped a tooth, and left his face looking like molded putty.
It was the only time I had ever witnessed anything about Lance that could be seen as remotely dangerous. But I'd never forgotten that, and right now, the look on his face said the same. He was ready and prepared to commit murder.
I looked around at Hector to see if he could be persuaded to move his ass. "This is my roommate, so I'm going to go. Thanks again."
But then I noticed Hector was smiling like the cat who ate the cream. And there it was again, that startling strike of similarity. I turned to face Lance. God, they were so similar. Height, coloring, hair—both with a distinct I-don’t-fuck-around air.
I stepped away from the car when Hector spoke. "Interesting roommate."
Lance's voice was deep and cold. "Morgan, get your ass inside."
That made me bristle, but something told me now was not the time. And for once, I listened. I’d never seen that look on Lance’s face before. I could feel the waves of anger coming off him.
Just as I passed him, Lance bit out, "What the fuck do you think you’re doing?"