Page 39 of The Fake Out

“Gianna Damiano?” I prompted.

His face remained blank.

As disappointment swirled inside me, I forced myself to keep my tone friendly. “I worked on this project.”

“Oh, yes.” He smiled. “That’s right. You assisted Jake with the signs. I didn’t realize any of his artists would be here.”

My smile slipped as my heart splatted on the floor beneath me. So Jake hadn’t given credit to me on the project like he promised he would.

“Well.” He picked up two wineglasses off the bar and lifted them. “Have a good night, miss.”

I forced a smile, but suddenly, a drink didn’t sound so appealing. Turning away from the bar, I scanned the event space again, stopping on the table with the snake design rising up from the large floral arrangement in the middle. A few people milled around the ten chairs. Did any of them know that I’d created every design for the new signs on my own, or did they all assume it was Jake?

“Gianna?” a singsong voice called behind me.

Although I didn’t recognize the voice, I turned at the sound of my name. A woman with wild red curls and a bright smile approached. Her hunter-green dress ended mid-calf, the color complementing her pale skin perfectly. She was pretty in the wild child way, but I didn’t have the first clue who she was or how she knew my name.

“Yes?” I asked, fighting the urge to cross my arms to brace myself for the impending uncomfortable conversation with a stranger.

She held a hand out to me. “I’m Dylan.” Her voice was friendly, and from the positive vibes radiating off her, she was clearly comfortable, as if she knew me and we were going to dive into a conversation we’d had a dozen times.

Even after studying her and shaking her hand, I was still at a loss for who she was.

“The confusion is vibrating off you like a bass drum beat.” She smiled. “Although you don’t know me, I think you probably know my fiancé, Cortney. He played with your brother before he moved into management.”

“Oh.” This was Cortney Miller’s soon-to-be wife. I hadn’t met her, but I’d heard a lot about both her and her daughter. “My brother says Willow is the sweetest baby ever.”

She chuckled. “I think her daddy would pounce on anyone who claimed anything different. Even if he’s a baby hog and tries to keep everyone at arm’s length.”

“Well, new baby, germs. I get it.” Although kids weren’t in my immediate future, I could imagine myself worrying about the same kinds of things someday. If I ever had the opportunity to have a family. My lack of urgency about kids had been an issue with Jake. He was a few years older than me and thought kids were more of a now thing, while I thought they were more of a later thing.

“I absolutely adore the signs. It’s like the universe brought us together for this new fun project I have.” She beamed at me.

I blinked. Project?

“Oh, I should probably explain it.” She laughed. “I’m opening a daycare facility at Lang field.”

I fought the frown at the stadium name. Seriously, the Langfields had named their ballpark Lang Field.

“I own a company called Little Fingers,” Dylan said, launching into a detailed story about how she and her friend had started a preschool that, over the years, had grown into six, with another in the works. And how the universe had provided exactly what they needed each step of the way. “So now it’s provided you.”

I blinked again. I didn’t want to be rude, because maybe she’d found me on LinkedIn or Indeed, since I was job hunting, but working in a preschool setting was the last thing I was interested in doing. And to be honest, I’d probably be terrible at it.

“I see where you’re going with this, and what I should have said was that I’m looking for someone to design a logo for our Lang Corp location.”

“Oh.” I nodded, flooded with a sense of relief. “Okay, well, if you reach out—” I snapped my mouth shut. Because when the zoo had contacted me, I’d encouraged them to reach out to the firm to make plans. But why? There was no clause in my contract that said I couldn’t work on side projects, and what loyalty did I have for a company that had literally uninvited me from the event held by a huge client that I had personally brought to them and worked with every step of the way? Not only that, but Jake had taken me off the two big accounts that I had pitched last month. So why would I actively work to bring them business? The president didn’t even know who I was.

I glanced around the room, stopping at the table decorated with snakes.

“That whole area is a murky cloud of grays and blacks.” Dylan waved her hand. “I don’t jibe with auras like that.” She winced. “It really crushes all my pretty teal. But your orange is like a beacon. Passion with just a pinch of red. You remind me of my friend Delia.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. My dress was definitely red, even in the low lighting, not orange. Then again, hers wasn’t teal; it was more of dark green. But she was right. That table was full of dark suits and black dresses.

“I get that tonight is a big night for you, so I don’t need an answer now.” She passed me a white card. “But I hoped you’d wanna come by one day. I wrote my address on the back of Cortney’s card. Just slip it right in.” She pointed at my chest. “You’ll remember it later when that dress comes off, and it falls to the floor. The universe will put me back in the center of your mind.”

She pointed again to my chest, one brow arched, so I obeyed, slipping the card into my bra.

“Great.” She clapped. “My phone number is on there too. Just swing by anytime. I’m sure the universe will make sure I’m home.”

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