Chapter 9
DASH
The media was going to eat me alive. I could feel it coming. They were already circling like vultures, sensing something was amiss behind the scenes.
The set was perfect. I had finally figured out how to anchor the backdrops.
So that was one crisis averted. The lights and shields and all the things needed to pull off an amazing photoshoot were all in place.
I’d been working the press for the better part of an hour, smiling and deflecting and gesturing broadly at the stunning coastline like that was the story they’d come for.
It wasn’t working anymore. The setup promised something amazing and it wasn’t happening.
Fuck.
Adrian was going to strip me of the family name and banish me. I should probably head to a bank, pull out as much cash as they’d allow, and run. I would find a place to hide for at least the next five years. Maybe that’d be enough time to get him to settle down.
“When does the actual show start?” someone asked from somewhere to my left.
“Very soon,” I said.
“You said that twenty minutes ago.”
“Come on, Trevor,” I said, flashing him a smile. “You’ve heard the term ‘fashionably late,’ right? Well, this is just the world of fashion. Trust me. It’ll be worth the wait.”
I had no idea where to go from here. I had run my mouth. Promised things I couldn’t deliver. And it was almost time to face the music.
I turned away from the press and pulled out my phone like I was checking something important. I was checking nothing. I was buying thirty more seconds of looking like I had a plan. Which I did not.
Adrian had texted twice more since I’d told him it was handled. I had not responded to either message. Nothing had really changed. The tops were still missing and that was game over.
He could check in with his little spy if he wanted to know what was going on. He should get his money’s worth.
One of the media relations guys materialized at my shoulder. He looked like he was getting ready to run as well. Maybe I could catch a ride with him.
“We can’t hold them much longer,” he said quietly.
“I know.”
“You need to make a call, Dash,” he said.
I looked out at the water. The set was perfect. Everything was perfect. Except for the part where we had nothing to put on the models. I thought about my mother and how disappointed she was going to be.
I need this to work. For him.
“Give me five more minutes to go check in with Annika,” I said.
I was delaying the inevitable. Annika had been trying to get to the bottom of this top situation, and she would have told me if she’d found the tops since we last spoke.
There was nothing and no one that was going to save me.
I’d been warned for years something like this would happen.
I had always managed to pull off miracles at the last minute but that wasn’t happening today.
And of course, I had a witness to document every minute of my downfall.
My life flashed before my eyes. Not my life in the past, but what my future was going to look like.
My family would disown me. It wasn’t rhetorical.
I had money, but I wouldn’t have them. I wouldn’t get to watch my nephew grow up.
There was no doubt in my mind Briggs and Sebastian would be fathers in no time.
I’d probably never get to meet future nephews and nieces.
Music suddenly pumped through the sound system we’d set up, a sultrier version of Wicked Games. Fitting. But who the hell thought it was funny to start the show’s playlist when the show itself would never start?
Well, at least I’m not the only person getting fired today.
The media all trained their cameras and phones on the runway, which was a trail of sand that led down to the beach. I needed to tell them this was a false start.
Then the first model stepped out of the tent. I froze, staring at the woman with my mouth hanging open. She was wearing a bikini. With both pieces. There wasn’t a nipple in sight. Thank the blessed bikini gods.
The model strutted toward the shoreline, swaying her hips and looking gorgeous. Three more ladies walked out, all of them covered properly. I didn’t know how it happened, but the missing tops had appeared out of thin air.
I squinted as they walked by, trying to see if maybe Annika and Mary Jo had just painted the tops on the models’ bare skin, but no, that was definite fabric. I was so confused.
The media was moving down to the beach to get the shots of the models doing their thing in the water. I couldn’t have asked for better weather. The lighting was perfect. The slight delay had actually made for a more dramatic background. I could already see the images that would come from the shoot.
But I couldn’t understand how it was happening.
I flagged down the nearest crew member. “What happened? How did we get the pieces?”
He nodded up the beach toward the wardrobe tent. “The woman who came with you,” he said. “She found the missing boxes. They’d been in a storage shed or something. That lady is a little scary, honestly. But she got it done. She saved the show.”
“A lifesaver,” another crew guy echoed, passing with an armload of equipment. “Total lifesaver.”
I watched the shoot happening in front of me and cursed my luck. That was just what I needed. Her ego already rivaled mine. Now the entire crew thought she walked on water. I’d be hearing about this for the next three weeks.
And Adrian? Shit. I didn’t know if I could deal with him gloating. He would be way too happy that I’d proven myself a failure. Someone who shouldn’t be in charge and needed a babysitter.
I scanned the beach for her. She was standing maybe forty feet away, watching the production with her arms crossed and a look on her face that I was starting to recognize as her version of satisfied. Not happy, exactly, but something close to it.
I watched her and tried to reconcile the woman in the loose cargo pants, snug T-shirt, and tight ponytail with the woman in that dress with the beachy waves from the other night.
I thought I liked the dress version, but if I was being honest, the kickass military thing was starting to grow on me.
I stopped that thought and walked over. “What happened?”
She glanced at me. “I went through your email”
“Wait, what? You read my email?”
“Yes, Dash. I read your email and you know what I found?”
“Way too many orders?”
“Yes, actually, but I’m talking about the unread email letting you know your delivery arrived early and there was no one to accept it, so it was put into a storage shed here at the venue. The bikini tops were here the whole time.”
“Oh, shit.” I probably should have been mad she read my emails, but it wasn’t my diary. I had no secrets in there. It figured she would be some genius hacker. Adrian would only pick the best. “Good job.” I paused, feeling like that wasn’t enough. “Thanks. My hero.”
“You’re a mess,” she said.
I shrugged, trying to seem casual. “I think the correct term would be hot mess, with emphasis on the hot.”
“You need to do better.”
“I know,” I said seriously.
She glanced sideways at me, like she was checking whether I actually meant that or was just saying what the situation required. I let her look.
“Can I just say.” I paused. “My assistant is supposed to review all my emails so I don’t miss things like this.”
Krista’s eyes widened, angry again. “You have an assistant? How is this the first time I’m hearing about this? I should have been talking to them this whole time.”
“Well, now, that’s the thing,” I said, suddenly wishing I hadn’t mentioned it at all. “I’m supposed to have an assistant, but after my last one left, I haven’t gotten around to hiring anyone.”
“Unbelievable.” She shook her head. “Let me guess. Your last assistant left because you’re a total mess?”
“Actually, she was promoted internally at the company. She’s VP of marketing now.” I grinned at Krista. “So I guess you’re not always right.”
“Just almost always,” she said, showing a slight crack in her anger.
“We should celebrate after this wraps up,” I said.
“We should not.”
“One drink. We pulled off a launch. The media is happy. The models are in the water. The content is going to be incredible.” I gestured at the sparkling sea. “Look at this. Look what we’re standing in the middle of. Let your hair down. You can have one drink.”
She turned and looked at me with those dark eyes, and for a second, I thought she was going to say yes.
“No.”
“Look, we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s have a drink and start over.”
“We need to go back to the hotel and finalize the travel itinerary for Corfu,” she said. “Then I want to go over the content shoot logistics. Location access. Vendor confirmations. You need to actually go through your email and make sure there’s nothing you missed.”
“I thought you were managing my email,” I quipped.
“I’m not.”
“That’s what you want to do tonight,” I said. “We’re in this beautiful location and you want to go over itinerary?”
“I want to do the job I was hired to do. Yes.”
“In Athens? One of the oldest cities on earth.” I shrugged. “Well, probably. I don’t know because I’ve never had time to take a proper tour.”
Krista sighed with her whole chest. “We’re not here for Athens. We’re here for the campaign. I have a job. You have a job.”
“We could be here for both.” I wasn’t going to give up.
If there was anyone that could get the woman to loosen up, it was me.
If I could get her to lighten up, we would both have a much better time.
“The nightlife here is supposed to be excellent. We could hit a few spots, grab some drinks, maybe some dinner. Talk business if you want. Let’s enjoy Athens for five minutes. ”
She looked at me like I was something on the bottom of her shoe.
“I’m going back to the hotel with or without you,” she said. “The work has to get done, whether you’re willing to step up or not.”
“Suit yourself.” I shrugged and looked down the beach at the models. They were laughing, splashing in the water, looking absolutely delectable. “I’m sure one or all of them would love to hit the clubs with me tonight.”
I expected her to say something. Make some cutting remark about my predictable behavior or my inability to take anything seriously. But when I turned back, she was already walking away. Her ponytail swayed and those cargo pants somehow managed to hug her ass in a way that was completely unfair.
I stood there watching her go. Why couldn’t I stop watching her ass? She had gotten under my skin. Somehow, in less than forty-eight hours, this woman had managed to burrow herself into my thoughts. It was deeply inconvenient.
Her rejection stung more than it should have. More than any of the others ever had. Okay, that might not have been true because I couldn’t remember when I’d been rejected. At least not anytime in the last ten years or so.
And that pissed me off. I was Dash Blackwell. I didn’t chase women who walked away from me. I didn’t care if they said no. Why chase a no when the world was full of yeses?
But I found myself caring what she thought. Wanting to prove to her that I wasn’t just the fuck-up fuckboy she’d decided I was. I needed to prove it to my family as well.
Although…
I looked back at the successful shoot happening on the beach. The shoot that would have been a complete disaster if she hadn’t found those boxes. If she hadn’t done the job I should have been doing.
Maybe I was exactly what they all thought I was.
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the thought.
No. This was one incident. One missed email.
It didn’t define me. I’d been running logistics for Blackwell Couture for years, and we’d never had a major failure.
Sure, things got close sometimes. I cut it closer than Adrian liked, but I always pulled it off in the end.
Except this time I hadn’t. She had.
I started walking toward the models that were coming out of the water. They saw me coming and immediately perked up, all smiles and flirtatious energy. This was familiar territory. This, I knew how to navigate.
“Ladies,” I said, putting on my most charming smile. “Who wants to show me the Athens nightlife?”
Three hands went up immediately.
“Perfect,” I said. “Meet me in the lobby at eight? Drinks on me.”
They agreed enthusiastically, already chattering about which clubs to hit first. I finished up with the job, which I found funny that my babysitter wasn’t here to watch me actually do my damn job.
It was almost three hours later by the time I got back to the hotel. I passed Krista’s door on the way to mine and paused. I could hear nothing from inside. Was she in there? Working?
I considered asking her to come out one last time but decided that would be a waste of time. She wasn’t interested. And I was not a glutton for punishment.