Page 15 of Sass

“Mmm.” I tapped my lip with my finger. “Maybe Flare should develop some kind of niche side label?”

Drew went quiet, catching my attention. “What?”

He sighed. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

He blew out a slow breath. “Okay, so what wedon’tneed are more cis gender people making products that capitalise off the backs of people like me. As I said, I try to support our own designers, people who really understand us, and are trying to make a difference.”

I smiled. “I couldn’t agree more, and I’m sure Rhys would feel the same. And that’s exactly why I thinkyoushould do it.” I tapped Drew’s chest with my finger. “Youhave the passion, the experience, the style know-how, not to mention the whole sewing thing, and you have the best resources available in your wonderful bosses to lend a hand and teach you the tricks. Don’t look at me to draw anything, but I have an eye.”

Drew’s mouth dropped open. “Me? Design something?” He choked on a laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Oh, I’mdeadlyserious. And to that end, I want you to sketch up some ideas, maybe starting with underwear-related stuff—briefs, binders, something sexy. And when you’re done, bring them to me. I’ll give you a couple of weeks to come up with something.”

His head was still shaking in disbelief. “But... I can’t. Where would I start?”

I smiled at the horrified look on his face. “Start with whatyouwould like to wear. Most designs aren’t new, Drew, they’re plays on history, on other designs, on a cultural take. Have a look around the store for inspiration, then mix it up. Rhys won’t mind.”

Drew gaped but there were threads of excitement kindling in his eyes. “You really mean it?”

I nodded. “I do. No promises beyond taking a look at what you come up with, and if it’s good enough, taking it to Rhys when he gets back. Maybe it’ll turn into something, maybe it won’t, but you won’t know unless you try.” I handed the catalogue back to a stunned Drew whose fingers curled around it in a death grip. “So, are you up for it?” I waited.

Drew blinked hard and then started nodding. “Yes. I... guess.” He blew out a shaky breath and cleared his throat. “Shit. Did I just say that?”

I grinned and patted his arm. “You did.”

“Holy crap.” His face blanched. “So, um, do you want another coffee before I head home and completely lose my shit? I take it you’ll be staying late.” He indicated the office, the tarp on the floor, and the small library of paint colour test pots and brushes I’d collected on my lunch break.

I followed his gaze and smiled. “And you’d be right.” With an office to make my own, I was in no hurry to get back to my one-bedroom, pretty-but-tiny apartment with its sliced view across the Hauraki Gulf and crippling subscriptions to every streaming service known to humanity. “But it’s a no on the coffee. Any more caffeine and my balls are gonna start flashing neon.” I checked my phone to find it was almost six. “You get home.”

Drew was out of there in under five minutes, still looking pale but practically vibrating with excitement.

Ten minutes later, as I was brushing a wide swathe of April Sun across one of the office walls, sandwiched between Burnt Sienna and English Sage, the bell on the door jangled and I smiled, assuming Drew had forgotten something as he was prone to do.

“I’m gonna put a checklist on that door,” I called out to him.

“Not sure I need one, but I appreciate the offer.”

I spun at the deep voice, heat racing to my cheeks.Leon.Dammit. I’d been so engrossed in what I was doing, I’d almost forgotten he was moving into the flat.

“Oh, it’s you.” I spied him through the glass. And yes, that was about as welcoming as it sounded.

Leon snorted and lowered the two suitcases he’d been carrying to the floor. Then he strolled toward my office in that effortless loose-limbed way he had. For a giant of a guy, he was surprisingly graceful. Not that I paid much attention to that sort of thing, of course.

“And it’s nice to see you too.” A trace of amusement tugged at his lips, which only served to further piss me off. Then he caught sight of the paint cans and tarp and leaned on the doorjamb to study the wall. “Redecorating already?” Those silvery eyes sparked with mischief, but I wasn’t in the mood.

I shot him a withering look. “I’ll have you know this isall Rhys’s idea. He insisted I take over his office since he’s moving above your place and my role has... expanded.” My tone was far less convincing than I would’ve liked, and Leon frowned. I narrowed my gaze. “I’ve no doubt you think Rhys has a screw loose putting me in charge, but I don’t want to hear about it. He set aside a budget and threatened dire repercussions if I’m not moved in by the time he gets back. So, if I have to do it, it’s going to be done properly.” I cast an eye over the paint swatches. “I’m gonna have to live with these colours for a bit before I can make a decision.” I felt the heat of Leon’s shrewd eyes and kept my gaze firmly on the wall.

“Well, contrary to your worryingly low opinion of me, I don’t think Rhys has a screw loose at all. In fact, I think he’s made an excellent choice.”

What?I spun around, expecting to find that familiar smirk, but Leon looked nothing but serious.

“Rhys’s business is hugely important to him.” Leon’s gaze remained steady on me. “And I know for a fact he thinks very highly of you. He trusts you, Christopher.”

Huh?I searched his face for that single glint of sarcasm to prove Leon was fucking with me, because it had to be there, but I saw nothing.What sorcery is this?Heat crept up my throat and I shrugged and looked away before he caught it.

“Well, of course he does.” I lowered my brush to rest on the test pot. “He’d be lost without me. Now, is there something I can help you with, or did you just pop in to offer your decorating opinion? I need to finish up so I can head out and grab myself another anonymous bed-warmer for a few hours.” I shot him a saucy wink. “That’s what guys like me do, right?”

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