Page 3 of Hidden Hearts

And a feeling I won’t trust until my life and business are more stable.

“Here’s to the future,” I mutter, circling the date of my meeting with Mike to emphasize its importance before turning my attention to our next project. Just because things are going well doesn’t mean they always will be, so there’s no time to slack off.

Stone Precision is my sole focus.

Nothing—and no one—will ever change that.

CHAPTER THREE

AVERY

The doorbell goes off, signaling another customer entering the store, and my standard greeting to customers rolls out on autopilot. "Welcome to Design Time! How are you?"

"Fine. I'm here to see Mike."

Whipping my head around at the husky rasp, my narrowed gaze lands on a man in a gray suit—raven hair cropped short, wintry blue eyes staring straight back at me before dropping to his phone, dismissing me with disdainful ease. His nose looks like it’s been broken one too many times, and a scar slices across his right eyebrow.

Maybe his abrupt demeanor pissed off the wrong person in order to gain those past injuries.

Not nice.

I remind myself to be charitable, but common courtesy flew out the window about two hours ago after dealing with an upset customer. When the order she placed for her daughter’s soccer uniform came back too small, the mom had gone nuclear. Parents had over a month to turn in the team order form. Plenty of time to review the measurements we printed on the forms or come to the store and try on the samples we kept on hand.

This lady did neither.

Just kept harping on the fact that the medium sizing from her daughter’s old team uniform fit fine, so clearly something was wrong on our end.

“I understand, ma’am, but these uniforms are a different brand from what the other team used. Don’t you just hate it when sizing differs so greatly between brands? Unfortunately, you’ll have to pay for another uniform, but we’re happy to offer a 25% discount.”

The unhappy mom didn’t care about our solution and continued to rant until Mike came out from his office and decided to repurpose the sample size we had for her daughter.

So, yeah… My level of acceptance for rude people is at a big, fat zero.

"Can I get a name?” I ask to annoy the man. It’s petty but whatever. He probably thinks I should already know who he is, and truthfully, his voice is familiar. But I’m not going to play along with his little act of superiority.

Usually, it takes a lot to ruffle my feathers because I hate conflict, and I give too many people the benefit of the doubt. Hell, how long have I worked here because I’m too chicken to approach Mike about leaving? How long did I gaslight myself into thinking things would change, that I needed to give Mike time to realize I could do more?

But there’s something about this man that’s gotten under my skin from our very first phone call. And it doesn’t help that his presence follows Miss Angry Mom from earlier.

“Dominic Stone.”

Be professional. Pasting a fake smile on my face, I force a cheerful, "I’m Avery. I'll let Mike know you're here."

He nods, his head still bent away from me. After telling Mike about his visitor, I returned to the front of the store, knowing he’d want to see me chatting and being sociable with waiting clients.

My mind searches for something to say. Which is tough when Dominic is glued to his phone, looking like he doesn’t want to be disturbed by a mere peon—not that I want to talk to him. But Mike prefers that I settle clients at our conference table then chat to keep them occupied.

Screw that. I don’t have the willpower to be the perfect employee today.

"You can sit over there." I point to the long table that sits in our makeshift meeting space. It’s really just a larger part of the hallway that separates the workspace in the back from the front retail section, but it does the job, even if it is cramped.

Without any other acknowledgment that he heard me, Dominic stomps by.

No thank you or anything.

Jerk.

The sweet older shopper I was waiting for when Dominic came in brings her items to the counter to check out, while Mike greets his guest.

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