Page 12 of Unbind

Evan makes a clicking sound with his tongue. ‘Want to tell me why you’ve had a face like a slapped arse all morning?’

‘You wouldn’t believe me if I did.’ He wouldn’t, because I still can’t believe it. I mean, what are the chances? What are the fucking chances that my past and my present would collide in Alchemy, the one place apart from this studio that I view as a safe space, manifesting in the physical form of an obnoxiously tall, wholly immoral billionaire?

They should be so close to zero that I never need worry about it happening.

Should.

‘Try me.’ He finishes cutting around the skirt panel and lifts it reverently off the table, laying it over the back of achair. When he turns back to me, he lifts a quizzical eyebrow.I’m waiting,it says.

I cross my arms. Fine. Let’s see what Evan thinks. Despite the nausea that rolls through my body every time I think of last night—the shock, the humiliation, the outrage—I’m dying to spill the beans. It’s too insane not to talk about. I need to process. Aloud.

‘Who’s my least favourite person on this planet?’ I ask him now.

He narrows his eyes in concentration as his scissors cut down the side of the skirt’s back panel. ‘Um. That guy who ghosted you last summer? Pencil Dick Darren?’

I laugh despite myself. ‘God, no. And we’ve blocked him out, remember? He doesn’t exist.’

‘Poor fucker.’ He’s quiet for a moment, his cutting immaculate, his forehead furrowed, and I know he’s processing as he works.

‘Omar Vega?’

‘Nope. But you’re getting a lot warmer.’ Omar Vega is an obnoxious but hugely talented Spanish designer operating in a similar part of the market to Gossamer. The differences between us are that the trajectory of his eponymous label has been stratospheric and that he’s backed by no other than Adam Wright. Evan and I may or may not take great delight in hate-watching his rising fortunes.

He stops, his head jerking up. ‘The bully.’

Evan’s never met my brother, but he knows my entire backstory with a level of detail only a friend who’s spent every weekday for years with me can.

I nod, and he grimaces. ‘What? Did he make the front pages again?’

It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve turned up for work triggered because Adam Wright’s smug face was staring at mefrom the front page of someone’sFinancial Timeson my morning commute.

‘Way worse.’

His eyes widen. ‘Go on…’

I glance around the room. Carrie has her headphones on, and our production manager, Gail, is out at one of our factories doing quality control on the dresses they’re currently working on.

‘He turned up at Alchemy last night.With Gen.’

Evan’s usually unflappable, but his face is an absolute picture. ‘You areshittingme.’ He lets the scissors clatter onto the table and straightens up.

‘Nope. Turns out he’s a friend of Anton’s.’ That memory drags over me again like nails on a chalkboard, and I shiver.

‘Oh, babe.’ He stretches out his arms. ‘Do you need a hug?’

I shake my head furiously, biting my lip and blinking away the moisture threatening to form in my eyes, because if Evan bestows one of his excellent bear hugs on me, I’ll definitely cry.

‘Okay.’ He lowers his arms. ‘Tell me what went down.’

So I tell him about it all. The total horror of seeing Adam. My complete and utter meltdown. Gen being lovely. The curiosity I can’t help but have over what went down after Gen went off to have her “little chat” with him.

And, finally, my nerves now, because she sent me a text first thing this morning, asking if I’d come in an hour early this evening to meet with her and Adam so we could discuss “moving forward”. Her mention that I’d have to sign an NDA before I spoke to them. And her promise that she’d be with me the whole time. That she wouldn’t leave me alone with him.

Fuck fuck fuck.

I wonder if Maddy will be around for a chat later. She’s the social media manager at Alchemy and my friend. She’s also married to Zach, the club’s Finance Director. I’ve told her about Adam before, and she genuinely will not believe it when I fill her in on the latest.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Evan says when I’m done recapping. ‘I can’t believe it. Talk about a bad penny, turning up like that.’

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