Chapter 13
DASH
I’d been watching her talk for the better part of an hour, and I was starting to realize something unsettling: when she was off the clock, Krista Hedley was enchanting.
The rigid military posture had melted away.
Her shoulders were relaxed. She didn’t look like she was standing at attention.
Or sitting. The frown that seemed permanently etched between her eyebrows had disappeared entirely.
And when she smiled, the real one, dimples appeared in her cheeks that I’d never noticed before.
Dimples. The woman had dimples.
Her full lips were all natural. No gloss or lipstick to make them look plump.
The wine had brought color to her cheeks, a rosy flush that made her look younger, softer.
And her hair, freed from that severe ponytail, curled around her face in a way that was genuinely charming.
Those beachy waves I thought were the work of a hairdresser were natural.
Everything about the woman was so damn real.
I lived and breathed in the world of fashion.
It was all smoke and mirrors. I almost forgot there were real people in the world.
Krista was telling me about her mother’s garden, her hands gesturing animatedly as she spoke. The Krista I knew kept her hands to herself, controlled and contained.
She reached for the wine bottle and refilled her glass.
Her third? Fourth? I’d lost count. Part of me knew I should probably slow her down, but the other part was glad she was finally relaxing.
The girl needed to chill out. She walked around the world like a razor blade, sharp and mean and tough, cutting through everything in her path.
But up here? On this balcony in Corfu with the sea stretching out before us and the stars beginning to appear overhead? She was radiant.
“Thank you,” she said suddenly, setting her glass down and looking at me with those dark eyes that seemed softer now.
“For what?”
“For letting me talk about her. My mom. I don’t do that often enough.
Dad and I, we sort of… we don’t bring her up much.
It’s too sad.” She took another sip of wine, then laughed.
“You know what’s funny? My mom would be over the moon right now.
Knowing her daughter was having dinner on a private balcony in Corfu with a man. ”
I laughed. “Really?”
“Oh yeah. She was always worried I’d end up alone. Too tough, too independent. She used to tell me that being strong didn’t mean I had to be hard.” Krista’s smile turned wistful. “She’d love this. The view, the wine, the company—even if the company is an ass.”
I shrugged and chuckled. “I deserve that.”
“You do,” she agreed, but there was no venom in it. Just honesty.
I leaned back in my chair. I liked this version of her. She was human after all.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’ve had a few missteps recently I’m not proud of. But I still think Adrian overreacted by hiring you. No offense at all. You’re clearly good at what you do.”
“None taken.” She tilted her head, genuinely curious. “Look, you’re capable when you want to be. I’ve seen you work. When you actually focus, you’re good at this. But, for the love of God, you have to check your emails. You have to answer your phone.”
I opened my mouth to give her some flippant response. But something about the way she was looking at me stopped me.
“That’s the part of the job I can’t stand,” I said. “All the admin. The constant questions and messages and interruptions. I need a person to organize all that for me. My assistant, Angela, always kept me on track, but now that she’s gone, I’ve missed a few things.”
“At the risk of stating the obvious, why don’t you hire a new assistant?” Krista asked.
I shrugged and picked up my wine. “Like I said, I just haven’t gotten around to it.”
“But you have a whole company,” she said, eyeing me curiously. “Just have HR do it. You wouldn’t need to be involved at all, if you so choose. Just have her replaced.”
“There’s no replacing her,” I said a little more forcefully than I intended.
Krista’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you and Angela… like, a thing?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Absolutely not. Her husband and three kids would have had some opinions about that.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said, an adorable, embarrassed smile on her lips. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“No need to apologize,” I said, waving her comment away and leaning back in my chair. “She was just great at her job. That’s why she was a shoo-in for the promotion. But I just can’t imagine anyone slotting into her role the way she did. We were a great team.”
Krista nodded. “Good help is hard to find. But clearly you need the support.”
“I guess I just thought I could handle everything on my own,” I said. “Asking for help has never been my strong suit.”
“Typical man,” she said with a smile. “Everyone needs help sometimes. It doesn’t make you weak. And I know for a fact Adrian has an assistant. I’ve gotten to know Courtney well.”
“Yeah, I suppose so.” I nodded and looked down at my plate, unable to face her for what I was about to admit. “Maybe I just hate when people leave.”
She looked stunned for a beat. “I know you lost your father, too,” she said gently. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” I was hoping we could skip over that particular subject. I shouldn’t have said anything. “Losing a parent isn’t easy.”
I hoped that would be enough. That she’d let it go. But Krista wasn’t someone who let things go easily. She wanted to commiserate. She had told me about her mother and now she wanted me to open up more. We didn’t have enough wine for that. I had been plenty vulnerable for one night.
“You said your mother was a singer?” I asked.
“She was. Not professionally, but she loved it.”
I was about to ask her what her mother’s favorite songs were when she cut me off.
“Tell me about your father,” she said.
I took a breath. It wasn’t an abnormal question given the conversation, but I wasn’t looking to delve too deeply into the gloomy topic.
I would give her just enough. The same thing I did when we were at an event and someone wanted to share a story about our father. We had all learned to smile and nod.
“The old man was tough. Clever as hell. Our hero, most times. Our adversary on occasion.” I smiled despite myself. “He was hard on us, but he had his reasons. He built an empire, a legacy worth passing on to the next generation.”
I paused, knowing the answer felt too much like a PR statement for the company. Krista deserved a little more than that from me. I thought about Sunday dinners and the way he’d look at Mom across the table. “He loved our mother a lot. She misses him terribly.”
“It sounds like your grief is still right on the surface,” Krista said quietly.
I cleared my throat and finished my wine in one long swallow. I set the glass down. I wasn’t going to indulge this topic for too much longer. Not tonight. Maybe not ever with her.
“It’s grief. They say it comes in waves, right? It’s been a couple years. He wasn’t young, so it wasn’t quite the surprise like your mother’s death.” I didn’t want to sound cold, but I was hoping to back off the subject.
“Surprise or not, it’s always sad,” she said softly. “It doesn’t matter if they were twenty-five or seventy-five.”
I wasn’t going to do it anymore. I couldn’t. “So what do you have scheduled for tomorrow?” I asked, deliberately changing the subject. “Please tell me it’s a couples massage.”
She laughed. “We’re here to work. There’s a lot to get done.”
I was very serious. “There’s a place here in Corfu that will blow your mind. Amazing views and masseuses that have been blessed with magical hands.”
“We’re going to the content shoot location,” she said, standing and stretching. “To oversee the day and make sure it goes smoothly. I don’t want to risk anything falling through the cracks.”
“Of course we are.” I got up too and followed her inside. “What time?”
“The car picks us up at seven.”
I groaned. “Seven a.m.?”
“Yes, Dash. Seven is when the day starts for people who actually work.”
“I work.”
“When you feel like it.”
“How about we go to the beach?” I suggested. “You, me, bathing suits and the sun.”
“We’ll be at the beach and you’re free to wear whatever you want, but I will not be in a bathing suit. I have a professional reputation to maintain.”
“Do you know there’s something called too much work?”
“Nope. Did you know there’s something called having fun after the work is done?”
“Okay, the beach isn’t your thing. How about I rent us a yacht for the day? Drink. Sunbathing—in swimsuits. Good food. Nothing but us and the open water.”
“I’m sensing a theme.”
“Relaxing?” I asked. “Yes, that’s definitely a theme.”
“Bathing suits. Did you design the ones for the campaign?”
I snorted. “No. But they’re good, right?”
She shook her head. “I’m not a fashionista—”
“No shit.”
She scowled at me. “As I was saying, I’m not a fashionista, but I don’t see how hard it would be to cut out triangles, attach some elastic, and call it a bikini.”
I laughed. “I’ll admit I thought the same thing until I tried designing one once.”
“When was this?” she asked, interest piqued. “I didn’t know you designed stuff.”
“Well, the key word was ‘tried,’” I said, holding up my hands. “I was not great at it. But bathing suits were particularly difficult. And can you guess why?”
Krista paused. “I have no idea.”
“Because you ladies have a lot of round parts. Wrapping round stuff in fabric and making it look flattering is less intuitive than you might think.”
“Hmm, it must have been interesting growing up surrounded by fashion, glitz and glamour.” She met my gaze. “I’m surprised you’re not super weird.”
I barked out a surprised laugh. “If that’s your seal of approval, I’ll take it.”
“Oh no,” Krista said, eyes sparkling with humor. “You’re not getting my seal of approval until we see how the rest of the campaign goes.”
As we got ready for bed, we moved around the suite in an awkward dance, both of us suddenly very aware that we were about to share a mattress. Krista grabbed pillows from the couch and carried them into the bedroom. I watched as she started arranging them down the center of the mattress.
“Berlin Wall?” I asked.
“More like the Great Wall of China. You stay on your side. I stay on mine.” She looked down at the barrier like she was assessing whether it was sufficient.
“What if I’m a restless sleeper?” I asked, checking to see if that got a reaction out of her.
“Then you’ll wake up on the floor. I have a black belt. Your children will feel the kick I deliver if one inch of you crosses that wall.”
“It’s a lot more than one inch, baby.”
She threw a pillow at me. “That’s exactly why I need more pillows.”
I laughed and went to brush my teeth. When I came back, she was already under the covers on her side, the wall of pillows firmly in place between us. I climbed into my side, very aware of how close she was despite the barrier.
“Goodnight, Dash,” she said, her voice already thick with sleep.
“Are you sure it was seven a.m.?” I asked.
She laughed. “Yes, now good night.”
“Night, Krista.”
I lay there in the dark, trying not to think about how sexy she’d looked across the table from me tonight. Guard down, ego stripped away. Just Krista. Real and vulnerable and so damn beautiful it hurt. So vulnerable I had opened up to her in a way I never did with anyone.
I rolled onto my side and glanced over the wall of pillows. A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
She was lying flat on her back, blankets pulled tight and tucked in on all sides, arms at her sides like she was standing at attention even in sleep. Military style, even in her dreams.
She cracked open one eye. “Shush.”
“You sleep like you have a backboard attached to your spine.”
“I’m comfortable.”
“Bullshit.”
“Don’t worry about my comfort or lack thereof.”
“This bed is essentially a cloud and you’re acting like you’re on a military cot. Enjoy the experience.”
“I bet you say that to a lot of women who make the mistake of climbing into bed with you.”
The laugh that erupted from the depths of my soul had me flopping onto my back. “It’s like you’ve been in my room.”
“Go to sleep. You thought me pounding on your door to wake you up was bad, just imagine what I can do when I’m in the room.”
“That sounds like a promise,” I said. “Are you going to jump on me?”
“I guess you’ll find out in about eight hours. Just remember, I’m military trained. I know pressure points. I know many things about the human body I probably shouldn’t.”
“You sure do talk about my body a lot.”
“Don’t make me move back to the hostel. Now good night.”
I bit back another laugh and rolled away, smiling into my pillow.