CHAPTER 11
Daisy
The shoot wraps just after five p.m. Cameras power down, lights cool, and the production crew starts packing up cables. This is old hat for them. My headache, however, still feels brand new.
Grizz is off somewhere, while I’m calculating that it will only take me twenty minutes to reach my apartment here by foot and I’m ready to go now.
This afternoon turned to crap and I’m going to blame Grizz for part of it.
If he wasn’t so late getting out of the practice facility because of his stupid ping-pong tournament, my mistake with the address wouldn’t have been as catastrophic.
As it stands, Kendra has been visibly irritated and chilly throughout this entire ordeal and I just want to put it all behind me.
I should leave, but I need to do some schedule confirmation with Grizz as soon as he shows back up. I’m scrolling through my notes, double-checking next week’s agenda, when I hear heels clicking behind me.
“Daisy,” Kendra says, her tone sweet, the artificial type though, not sincere.
I turn, forcing a polite smile. “Kendra. Thank you again for accommodating us today. The footage looks great.”
She gives a small, brittle laugh. “Does it? I suppose it does, though it could’ve looked even better if you’d managed to get your client here on time.”
I bite back a sigh. “We had a mix-up with the address. Completely my fault. I’ve already emailed your team to apologize for the delay, and I tried to call you directly, but it went to voicemail.”
“Oh, I saw that,” she says, crossing her arms. “It’s just… unfortunate. Julian doesn’t like when things reflect poorly on the organization. He’s very particular about optics.”
“Of course,” I say carefully. “So am I.”
Her smile grows even less friendly. “And Julian really doesn’t appreciate when people he employs can’t execute simple tasks,” she adds, voice tightening. “Like getting a player to a shoot on time. I’m afraid I’m going to have to advise him of this failure.”
There it is, the knife wrapped in polite diction.
I straighten my shoulders, keeping my tone level. “Kendra… please. We ended up getting exactly what we needed and Grizz was fantastic. I don’t understand why you feel it necessary to bring Julian into this since it’s really a moot issue.”
Her eyes glint with a malice I don’t know what I did to earn. “Yes, well… it’s not a moot issue to me. You being late caused me to be off schedule and speaks to your inability to do your job effectively. I feel like Julian needs to know that.”
Before I can respond, the restroom door opens and Grizz steps out, hands in pockets, sleeves pushed up, not a care in the world.
He takes one look at Kendra’s expression, then at me, then back to Kendra. “Everything good here?”
Kendra’s smile doesn’t falter. “I was just advising Daisy it’s unacceptable that she was late and I’m going to need to report this to Mr. Langley.”
So, now it’s Mr. Langley and not Julian.
He nods once. “Yeah… you were absolutely inconvenienced.”
I shrink inside and Kendra preens. “My time is valuable too, as I’m sure you can appreciate.”
Grizz scratches the back of his neck and nods. “Yeah… whoever was responsible for inconveniencing you should be punished.”
Kendra frowns, because Grizz isn’t smiling at her. “I mean… like I said, my time is valuable.”
“We were late because of me,” Grizz says, and I blink in astonishment.
Kendra’s mouth turns downward. “Excuse me?”
“I was the reason we were late,” he says simply. “Got caught up at the facility. Daisy was waiting on me.”
The way he says it—steady, unapologetic—makes her falter just enough to show it.
I open my mouth to respond, but he beats me to it. “She’s been solid. Whole thing’s my fault. If anyone should be raked over the coals, it should be me.”
Kendra recovers, pasting her PR smile back in place. “Well… of course. These things happen.”
Grizz levels a look her way. “Glad we’re on the same page. I’d also say it’s smart you put in a good word for Daisy with Mr. Langley. It’s not easy managing me.”
“Of course,” she simpers, wringing her hands. “I’ll sing her praises.”
And just like that, Kendra’s power trip evaporates. She mutters something about following up next week and retreats toward the door.
“You ready to go?” he asks me.
Dumbstruck, I can only nod and then follow him out of Bartiz and into the early evening chill. The sky’s gone the color of dark pewter, casting New York in a gloomy haze.
Grizz stops, abruptly turns, and I have to put on the brakes so I don’t run into him. “You’re welcome,” he says.
My brow creases. “Excuse me?”
“For what I did in there.”
I blink. “You mean, undermining me in front of the client?”
He frowns. “Undermining you? I covered for you. Most people would be—oh, what’s that word—grateful.”
My back teeth grind together as all the ways in which this day sucked start to sink in.
“You think I wanted to be rescued? That’s not gratitude you’re seeing.
That’s frustration, especially since you’re the one who caused all this in the first place.
Now if you’ll excuse me, all my patience is used up and I’m going to walk home.
I’m sure you can catch a cab to wherever your penthouse is. ”
Grizz’s hand shoots out and latches onto my wrist. I turn to face him and he looks genuinely confused. “Frustration? I just made your life easier.”
I start to answer and pull my arm away at the same time, but my bag slips off my shoulder and hits the sidewalk, scattering pens, lip balm, and half my dignity.
“Great,” I mutter, crouching to scoop everything up before he can react.
Grizz bends down to help anyway, picking up items and handing them to me. I snatch a lipstick from his palm. “Don’t. Please. You’ve done enough saving for one day.”
He straightens slowly, still looking at me.
“I’m used to handling things myself,” I say, shoving everything back into my purse and rising. “I don’t need someone to swoop in and play hero. You think you helped, but all you did was make it look like I can’t fight my own battles. Kendra isn’t stupid and she knows you covered for me.”
He shakes his head subtly, clearly trying to stay patient. “Fine. No saving. Got it.”
“Good.”
“Great,” he says with a grin.
I gnash my teeth and turn on my heel. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Grizz steps in beside me, walking with an easy nonchalance. “You sure that’s a good idea, considering your sense of direction?”
I glare. “I think I can manage.”
“Probably,” he says. “But given recent evidence, I’ll make sure you’re at least walking the right way. Don’t worry, Turner… I’m not trying to save the day. Just making sure you don’t end up in New Jersey.”
I don’t dignify that with a response. I keep walking—and I do it at a pace that actually leaves him behind a few paces.
“Fast wheels on you, Daisy Turner,” he calls from behind.
“I walk with purpose,” I snap over my shoulder.
By the time we reach my street, I’ve almost convinced myself he’s going to peel off and leave me alone. I’m half a block from my building when I can’t help myself anymore, and I glance over my shoulder.
Yup. Still there, no more than five feet behind me.
I resolve to push faster, but when I turn around, my heel catches a metal subway grate that would have been avoidable had I been watching where I was going.
There’s a deep twist, a snapping sound, a flash of pain, and I’m suddenly on the ground, clutching my ankle.
“Jesus,” Grizz jogs up, crouching beside me. “You okay?”
“Yes,” I mutter as people walk by us. I lean to look at the outside of my ankle, convinced the snapping sound I heard was my bone, but was in fact… my heel. I pick it up, hold the three inch peg up before my eyes and nearly start crying over the loss of my Stuart Weitzmans. “My heel broke.”
“Better your heel than your ankle,” he says and then puts a strong hand under my arm. “Let me help you up.”
“I don’t need your help,” I hiss, trying to stand, but I end up using him for support, anyway. The second I put weight on my foot, pain shoots up my leg and I wince. It’s not broken, likely just a mild sprain. Probably can walk it off and with some ice tonight, it’ll be better by morning.
Still, I hobble toward my apartment building door, pathetically limping more from the difference in height between my good heel and my obliterated heel. Grizz keeps his hand on my elbow and I try to pull it away. “I’ve got it.”
“Yeah,” he says dryly, “looks like you’ve got it completely under control.”
When I reach the door, I shake off his arm so I can dig through my bag—phone, wallet, lipstick—but no keys.
“Oh my God. Where are they?” I practically stick my head in the open tote, rooting around and even giving it a good shake, but I don’t hear a jangle back. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Looking for these?” My head snaps up and I see Grizz leaning against the railing, holding up a familiar set of silver keys.
I stare. “How—”
“You dropped them back when you dumped your purse all over the sidewalk,” he says, grinning. “You’re welcome. Seems I saved the day again, eh?”
I take them from him, biting back a retort. My ankle throbs. I glance up the stairs and dread the climb up to my apartment.
“What floor are you on?” he asks, hand to my elbow.
“Fourth,” I mumble as I look upward.
He follows my gaze. “No elevator, huh?”
“Don’t even say it.”
He steps closer. “You’re not getting up there like that.”
“I’ll manage.”
“You can’t even stand straight.”
“I don’t need a knight in shining armor.”
He smirks. “Relax. I’m just the guy carrying your stubborn ass upstairs.”
Before I can protest, he bends down and lifts me effortlessly in his arms. My breath catches at the romantic gesture. I figured he might offer an arm to lean on as I hobbled up, but he just Rhett Butler’d me.
“Don’t drop me,” I warn.
He glances down, amused. “Not a chance, Turner. You’d never let me live it down.”
Somewhere between the second and third floor, with his arms locked beneath me and my hand gripping his shoulder, my brain finally catches up to my body.
This is dangerous.