Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Debra had no idea what she was doing. It had started as a passing thought over coffee, the notion that she could simply walk in and that she didn’t need a reason or an appointment, even though she did.
It wasn’t logic that had carried her to Savile Row but instinct, and by the time she’d reached the door of Brown & Co. , her heart was already racing.
The moment she stepped inside, she spotted Billie behind the counter.
Her hair was perfectly styled as always, that dark, cropped cut taking Debra’s breath away.
God, she wanted to run her fingers through it again.
The grey waistcoat and white shirt beneath her suit jacket did nothing to make the sight less devastating.
Billie looked up, and for a split second, surprise crossed her face.
Then that ever-present mask of calm settled back into place.
“Ms Allen. This is a surprise.”
“I hope it’s not an unwelcome one.”
Billie’s mouth curved. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was close enough. “That depends on whether you’ve come to cause trouble.”
“Would you prefer it if I had?”
That did earn her a real smile this time, brief but unmistakable. “Always straight to the point.”
Before Debra could answer, movement from the side caught her eye. A young woman that Debra believed to be Billie’s assistant stood near the back of the shop with an iPad in her hand. She wore a courteous expression, but her gaze held on Debra long enough for her to notice.
Billie saw it too, and her tone shifted. “Nina, I’ll take it from here.”
“Yes, Miss Brown.” Nina’s reply was quick, almost nervous, and then she glanced between them before slipping through a door at the back of the building.
Debra’s pulse picked up. There was something about the authority in Billie’s voice that sent heat raging throughout her. To be honest, she hated how much she enjoyed it. She hated that she’d ever been here for The Full Service at all.
“You have that effect on people, don’t you?” Debra stepped closer to the counter. “One word from you and everyone falls into line.”
Billie arched a brow. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No, no. It’s just…very you.” There was no coldness today from Billie, just that strange current that seemed to hum between them. It felt familiar and new all at once. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your day, but I was in the area and thought I’d drop by.”
Billie nodded as she folded her hands on the counter. “And I suppose you wanted to check on the progress of your suit?”
“That’s one excuse.”
“Ah.” Billie cocked her head and smiled. “And the real reason?”
Debra took a breath. If she didn’t say it now, she never would. “I was wondering if you’d like to get some lunch together. Somewhere quiet. In a couple of hours, maybe.”
For the briefest second, Billie’s composure wavered. Debra noted the real Billie in the tiny hitch of her breath.
Debra’s stomach twisted. She was about to be rejected again. “It’s okay if you’re busy—”
“I’m not.” Billie’s answer came so fast that it startled them both. “I mean, I can make time.”
Debra’s lips parted. She hadn’t thought for one second that Billie would take her up on her invitation. “You’ll have lunch with me?”
Billie laughed, and it took everything within Debra not to melt to the floor. “You make it sound like I’ve been asked to commit a crime.”
“Judging by the look your assistant gave me when I walked in, I think it would probably be safer if you were.”
“Nina is…Nina. Don’t take it to heart.” Billie stepped out from behind the counter and slipped her hands into her pockets. “Where were you thinking?”
“There’s a place by the river,” Debra said. “It’s nothing fancy, but they do an excellent risotto.”
Billie pinned Debra with her stare. God, it wouldn’t be so intense if she hadn’t reminded herself nightly of what this woman was capable of. “Text me the details.”
“I’m sorry…” Debra blinked repeatedly. “Text you?”
Billie reached into the inside pocket of her jacket, pulled out a business card, and held it out. “My direct number’s on there. I trust you’ll use it wisely.”
Debra took it, her fingers brushing Billie’s in the exchange. The contact was brief, but it was enough to send a shiver skittering up her arm. “I’ll do my best.”
“I’m counting on that.” Billie winked.
Fucking hell. This woman was…Debra couldn’t name it. She just knew that Billie Brown was like nobody she’d ever come across before.
Debra tucked the card into her bag, her heart racing. “How does two o’clock sound?”
Billie nodded. “Two o’clock is great.” She gazed back at Debra for a moment longer, then she stepped back, her expression returning to that composed neutrality. “I’ll see you in a few hours then.”
“I’ll hold you to it.”
When Debra stepped outside, the warm afternoon light hit her face, and she realised she was genuinely smiling for the first time in years.
She wasn’t the type of woman who usually took a chance and asked someone out to lunch, but if Billie had taught her anything recently, it was that she had to grab life with both hands…and hope the outcome went in her favour.
The stillness of Brown & Co. had never bothered Billie before, but today it grated on her.
She sat at her desk, leaning over the invoices in front of her, scanning the same column of numbers for the third time.
Nothing was sticking. Nothing was going in and landing anywhere in her brain.
Instead, she sat there tapping her fingers against the paper, staring at the clock situated at the corner on her right.
Midday. Two more hours…
God, she hated that she was counting down to her lunch with Debra. Because counting meant a hint of hope. Billie and hope did not go together.
A light knock on the door pulled her gaze from the clock, but she just focused back on the invoices. “Come in.”
“Miss Brown?” The door clicked shut behind Nina.
Billie could feel the shift in the air before she’d even locked eyes with her.
The energy today seemed taut and uncertain.
“I’ve updated the stock lists,” Nina said, setting a folder on the desk.
“And the new clients from this morning have been confirmed.”
“Good.” Billie signed one of the forms, the scratch of the pen setting her teeth on edge. “You can leave everything here with me.”
Nina lingered instead of leaving. “Is there anything else you need?”
Billie looked up with a frown. “No.”
But Nina didn’t move. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her shoulders stiff in a way Billie recognised. Nina…wanted to be dominated. Billie laughed inwardly. Why Nina assumed she had the right was beyond her.
“Who was that woman who came in earlier?” she asked suddenly. “The one you asked me to leave the floor for…”
Billie blinked. “Excuse me?”
“She looked familiar. Isn’t she that client?”
Billie straightened in her seat. “You’re aware of our policy on client discretion.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Billie glared back at Nina. She didn’t know why her assistant thought she had the right to discuss clients with her, Nina was never usually that vocal, but Billie wouldn’t tolerate it. “You’re very close to overstepping, Nina.”
Nina flinched but held her ground. “You used to trust me with more than numbers and invoices. Lately, I can’t tell if I’m your assistant or a stranger you tolerate.”
Billie’s pulse kicked up a little. A warning. “Be careful.”
“Careful?” Nina laughed. “You called out someone else’s name while I was fucking you, but I’m the one who should be careful?”
Those words hit Billie with the force of a thousand bricks.
She remained silent, watching Nina across the room, trying to decide whether her attitude was jealousy or simply defiance for not being the centre of Billie’s attention lately.
She cleared her throat, rose to her feet, and pressed her palms to the desk.
“I think you’re forgetting who you’re speaking to. ”
Nina cast her gaze to the rug between them. “I just want to know what she is to you.”
Billie scoffed. She wasn’t putting up with this. No way. “What she is…is none of your concern.”
“It obviously is.”
Billie pushed off her desk abruptly. “That’s enough.”
The authority in her tone worked this time. Nina’s mouth closed as she retreated towards the door. But the damage was already done. The atmosphere between them was different now. It was no longer charged with anticipation. It was just heavy with disappointment.
Billie shook her head and turned away. “Take the afternoon off.”
“Miss Brown, I—”
“That’s an instruction, not a discussion.”
Nina sighed. “Yes, Miss Brown.”
When the door closed behind her, Billie dropped into her chair and exhaled a deep, calming breath. Nina’s words looped through her head until she pressed her palms against her temples.
Everything she’d built, every relationship she’d defined, every emotion she’d boxed away neatly…and one woman had walked in and ripped apart the whole system by simply existing.
She wasn’t angry with Nina, not really. She was angry with herself for letting it get that far. For allowing her body to betray what her mind had spent years protecting.
She glanced at the clock again.
One hour and forty minutes.
The faintest smile ghosted at the corner of her mouth. She knew she should feel guilt. She also knew she should feel chaos. But instead, she felt…anticipation.
For the first time in years, Billie was almost certain that she was done pretending that the life she’d built still fit. And in just under two hours, she was hopefully going to see the reason why.
Tapping her foot against the floor, she realised that she couldn’t stay in her office for a second longer.
She needed to walk off this nervous energy and inhale some fresh air.
It usually did the trick when she was stuck in her own mind, and right now, she was taking whatever she could get if it meant she didn’t either back out of lunch or turn up there looking like a woman who didn’t know her own name.
Billie quickly tidied up her desk. Pens aligned and invoices sitting neatly. The order of it should have been calming, but it wasn’t. She was finding it remarkably hard to grasp any semblance of calm since Debra had walked out of the shop this morning.
As she lifted her overcoat from the hook next to the mirror, she stared back at her reflection.
She looked composed and professional, she even looked unshaken to those around her, but there was a looseness around her collar and a crease in her shirt.
Even the smallest deviation was proof enough. She wasn’t in control. Not today.
As she reached for the door handle, the door suddenly opened.
Nina. Of course.
“Miss Brown?” Nina lingered in the doorway, her shoulders pulled back. “I’ve reorganised your appointments for this afternoon since you want me to leave.”
“Good.” Billie slipped into her overcoat, giving Nina a moment to correct herself before Billie called her out on her blatant lie. “You won’t need to move anything else. I’m heading out.”
Nina frowned. “Out?”
“Yes. Out.” Billie slid her phone into the inside pocket of her coat.
“For how long?” Nina asked, seemingly thrown and bothered by the fact that Billie had a life outside of here today. “You don’t go out during business hours.”
“Well, I do today.”
“I…it’s not in your schedule,” Nina said as she frantically scrolled through her iPad. “I don’t understand. Everything is in your schedule. Or…it should be.”
Billie’s brow lifted. “Is that so?”
“I just meant—” Nina sighed. “You usually have client fittings until four.”
“Mm. I’m aware.” Billie buttoned her coat slowly, the faintest edge to her tone.
“And since I’m the one who approves the schedule, I also happen to know that there are no clients booked this afternoon.
Don’t lie to me again.” Billie stepped closer, her tone changing just enough to be kind without losing authority.
Nina swallowed and lowered her gaze. “You’ve done excellent work lately, Nina.
But don’t mistake familiarity for privilege. My time is still my own.”
Nina nodded, refusing to make eye contact. “Of course, Miss Brown.”
“Good.” Billie reached for her leather gloves, smoothing them on one by one. “Now, can I trust you to lock up…or do I have to do it myself?”
“No, of course. I can lock up. It’s no problem.”
Billie moved past her, the subtle scent of her perfume trailing between them. She could feel Nina’s eyes on her, a mixture of resentment and curiosity, and for once, Billie didn’t care what she saw or assumed.
In the mirrored glass of the shopfront, she caught one last glimpse of herself. She allowed a small smile to break through. For years, she’d believed that control was safety. For years, she’d believed that routine was protection. But today, she was willingly stepping out of both.
She wasn’t going to a meeting. She wasn’t seeing a client. No, she was going to lunch with Debra Allen. Somehow, that felt far more dangerous than anything she’d done in her life.