Chapter 27
DASH
The set was going to be perfect. I knew it the second I walked up to the highest point of the island that morning and stood there looking at what we’d built.
The runway extended across the hilltop. The staging crew had been here since four in the morning.
They’d done something spectacular with the frames and the fabric and the lighting rigs that weren’t even powered on yet.
White columns flanked the runway in pairs, draped with fabric that moved in the breeze.
When the sun hit them at the right angle, which it would, this whole thing was going to look like the Parthenon in all its glory.
Ancient and new at the same time. Shimmery gold accents that screamed opulence. Decadent and elegant. It was going to be fucking fantastic. The history of it, the mythology baked into every stone. The new line was all about women owning their bodies like the Greek goddesses still worshiped today.
I walked the length of the runway twice, eyeballing the spacing between columns, checking that the angles matched what Sebastian had mapped out in the pre-production documents I’d finally read cover to cover three days ago.
The lighting director came to find me around eight with questions about the color temperature for the sunset window and we spent forty minutes going through options until I could see exactly what I wanted.
The sun was going to set directly behind the runway. The models would walk into it. The light would be gold and warm and the fabric of the collection would catch it like fire.
It was going to be perfect. I could feel it in my chest. Usually, I did my thing and just kind of hoped for the best. But this time, I knew it was going to be spectacular. I was going to blow away my family, and then hopefully, they’d get off my ass.
This was going to be the best thing the Blackwell name had ever put on a runway. Better than our other shows that we all got to put our own spin on.
And I did it all because of her. I’d pulled this off because Krista Hedley had shown up and she had shaken me awake by the collar until I’d decided to actually show up. I turned to look for her.
She was across the set in the shade of the crew tent, one hand on a cooler, cracking open a water bottle.
She tipped her head back and drank. Her throat moved.
I watched as a man who had recently become acquainted with that throat and was hoping to have my lips back on that stretch of skin very soon.
She was back in the khaki shorts. Different pair, same energy.
White tee just short enough that when she raised the water bottle there was maybe half an inch of stomach visible above the waistband.
I knew what that patch of skin tasted like.
I knew what every inch of her tasted like.
Well, like eighty percent. I planned on learning the other twenty over the coming days.
I knew what her ass felt like. Her hips.
And what it felt like to be between those muscular thighs.
My eyes traced down her legs and I paused.
What the fuck were those atrocities on her feet?
Velcro sandals? I was pretty sure those were mandals.
She could climb mountains in those damn things.
Way too utilitarian and zero percent sexy.
They were an insult to the eyes. A genuine affront to fashion.
A woman who had legs like Krista Hedley should never wear those things.
I had three sisters-in-law with impeccable taste and every shoe brand in the world at their disposal and none of them, not one, had ever committed a crime against footwear like this.
And somehow she still looked incredible.
That was the thing about Krista. She didn’t try. She just existed without caring whether the world found her appearance acceptable. I got it, but I was still burning those shoes the first chance I got.
She looked my way, but the second she saw me looking at her, she looked away. That was weird. I expected something more. A wink. A smirk.
Something.
She’d been off all day. She wasn’t seeking me out between tasks. When our paths crossed, she was professional, but something was different. I didn’t expect her to kiss me or flirt, but I expected something more than what I was getting from her.
I tried to focus on the staging walkthrough with the production coordinator. I managed it for about twenty minutes before my attention went back to the tent. I needed to make sure we were okay.
I found her talking to one of the set assistants, pointing at something on the upper level of the staging structure. The old Dash would have handled this one of two ways.
He would have convinced himself it was nothing, that he was imagining things, and buried himself in whatever he could until the feeling went away on its own.
It would either resolve or explode. Or he would have walked up to her and said something direct enough to be classified as a confrontation, which would have sent her directly into defense mode. The old Dash was an idiot.
Krista would want a conversation, not a confrontation.
I excused myself from the lighting walkthrough and crossed the set. She saw me coming and excused herself from the conversation she’d been in.
“Can I steal you for a minute?” I asked.
She took a second too long, which told me she was pissed at me about something. I couldn’t imagine what. I hadn’t done anything. I’d been working like she wanted me to.
She followed me away from the cluster of crew members.
I turned to face her. “You’ve been off today.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m not asking if you’re fine. You’re not the same woman I was with yesterday. I’d like to know what’s going on.”
She looked out at the view. It occurred to me that maybe I was overstepping. Maybe I should let it go.
“We can talk about it after the event,” she said.
“That’s two days away.”
“I know.”
“If something’s wrong, I want to know now. Tell me how to fix it.”
She pressed her lips together. I could feel something coming and I didn’t like it. Something had happened and I had lost the soft, supple woman I’d held in my arms on that yacht.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “When we go back. I don’t want to take the logistics role with Blackwell Couture.”
I waited because that wasn’t what was bothering her. “Okay,” I said. “I didn’t even know that was an option on the table. Why were you worried about telling me that?”
She looked away.
“Krista.”
She exhaled. “I don’t think we should continue this when we get back to New York either.”
What the fuck was happening? I did a quick rewind. I could not think of anything that led us to this point. I’d been on my best behavior. I worked. I did everything wanted.
“Where is this coming from?” I asked.
“A travel fling only works when we’re traveling.”
“I need you to explain what’s going on because there is nothing you can say that’s going to convince me that what’s happened between us hasn’t been real. I was there. I know what I felt. I know what I saw.”
She was looking at the ground now.
“I’m falling in love with you,” I said.
She flinched. And in that millisecond, I saw all her walls go up. The woman I had watched fireworks with was gone. I hadn’t known that wall was still there. I thought we’d gotten past it. I had let her see the real me.
“Was this part of it?” I heard myself ask.
She looked up. “What?”
“The contract. Getting me to focus, keeping me in line. Was this part of how you managed me? Did Adrian think I’d behave better if I was getting laid on the regular?”
Her shoulder caught mine as she walked by me. “Asshole.”
“Oh no, let’s not be shy,” I snapped. “If you were fucking me to get me to be a good boy, good job. It worked. The power of the p—”
She spun around and glared at me. “You do not want to finish that sentence.”
I shrugged. “Hey, no shame in the game. I thought you were all strict and by the rules. It’s cool. It’s not like I hated the sex.”
It was low. I knew it, but she had hurt me. The first woman I ever allowed myself to have feelings for and she stomped all over my heart.
“My job was to babysit my client’s spoiled, impulsive younger brother and make sure he could handle his responsibilities without burning everything down.
” Her eyes narrowed, anger burning. “That’s it.
That was the whole contract. I wasn’t hired to run a honeytrap or whatever it is your ego has decided happened here.
It is really not that hard to get you to fall into bed with anyone.
Trust me, if it was about getting you in bed, they could have saved themselves a lot of money. I’m not cheap.”
I heard the words come out of her mouth, but my brain refused to process them as anything other than weapons. Each one hit hard.
“Right,” I said, my voice cold. “Because I’m so easy, right? Just flash a smile at me and I’ll get naked and hop into any bed.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s exactly what you said. You just called me a whore in the most professional way possible.”
“After you called me one.” She closed her eyes and took a breath. When she opened them again, some of the fire had dimmed. “But hey, if the shoe fits.”
“I get it. I’m the family fuck-up who can’t keep it in his pants.
The guy who needs a handler because he’s too busy chasing tail to do his actual job.
” I laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“And you know what? You’re right. That’s exactly who I was before you showed up.
So congratulations on confirming what everyone already knew. ”
“Stop putting words in my mouth.”
“I’m just connecting the dots you laid out for me.
” I stepped closer to her, anger and hurt warring in my chest. “You want to break this off? Fine. We’ll break it off.
But don’t stand there and pretend this was just some fling that got out of hand.
Don’t diminish what happened between us because you’re scared. ”
“I’m not scared.”
“Bullshit. You’re terrified.”
“You just can’t handle the fact I’m not falling at your feet. Sorry, I can’t do the whole relationship thing. It would never work. You know that.”
I said nothing.
“You did it.” She gestured at the set behind me, the runway and the columns and the lighting rigs and all of it. “You turned it around. You showed up. You handled it. That’s all you.” Her jaw was tight. “Credit where it’s due.”
“But,” I prompted.
“But you still managed to screw everything up.”
I looked at her and considered my comeback. She stared at me. I could see the challenge in her eyes. She wanted to keep this little exchange up. If I hurt her, it would make it easier to walk away for good.
I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. I wanted her to suffer. She was scared. It wasn’t me she was running from. She didn’t like feeling like a woman who could love. Who was loved.
I shook my head. “Me?” I asked. “You think I messed it up?”
She shrugged.
“Yeah, we both know that’s bullshit.”
I turned and walked away. I had a production to put on. I wasn’t going to fail now. I understood what it was to be used. I didn’t think I’d ever used anyone. The women I took to my bed knew exactly what it was. They weren’t expecting a ring or even flowers.
I had opened myself to Krista and she shit all over my heart.