Page 91 of Sass

Leon’s mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “Well, I guess that’s as good a reason as any.”

“And there’s another.” I locked eyes. “He fucked me over back then, and in some ways he still is... with how I am—” My cheeks blazed. “—about you, about us... and I won’t fucking have that.” I surprised myself at the venom in my voice. “This thing between us might not work, but I sure as hell won’t have it fail because ofhim.I just won’t. He doesn’t get to take someone else from me. Not again.”

Leon squinted at me, and I didn’t blame him. Even to my own ears I sounded... intense, possibly even a little unbalanced. He rubbed his lips together like he was choosing his words carefully. “You don’t want to talk to your old therapist? Get some advice, maybe?”

I’d thought about that myself. It was a valid option. But my conclusion had been, “No. I’m ready for this. Maybe after, if I need to debrief.”

Leon’s unflinching and hard scrutiny was oddly reassuring as I waited for his response. There was no knee-jerk reaction and I’d get an honest answer.

“Okay,” he finally said with a sharp nod of his head. “But I’m driving you.”

I blinked. “What? No, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fi—”

“I’m going with you.” His tone brooked no argument. “I’ll drive you there and back and wait in the car. I won’t say a word if you don’t want me to, but you arenotgoing alone. Is that clear?”

My eyes brimmed and I nodded. “Perfectly.”

“Good.” He kissed me softly. “So, when are we doing this?”

“Saturday, tomorrow. After work? One-ish?”

He nodded. “We’ll take your Mini.”

CHAPTERTWENTY

Kip

I knockedon the glass and waved Drew inside the office, taking his attention from the half-dozen Saturday shoppers milling around Flare. “Have you seen these?” I pointed to the stack of shirts on my desk, a ripple of dread fluttering in my chest.

“Not yet.” He grabbed a shirt and laid it flat. “Oh, shit.”

“Oh shit is right.” I got on the phone to Rhys, who’d popped next door to chat with the plumber about something he wanted for his new studio, and told him to get his arse back to Flare, pronto.

Two minutes later he flew into the office and I shoved a shirt into his hands. “Take a look.”

He opened it up and paled. “What the hell? Where’s the placket embroidery detail?”

“It’s my fault.” Bile coursed up my throat. “I told her not to fuss with that for the sample because we needed it fast and the embroidery takes time. We just needed to know her work would pass. And you saw it. It was perfect. But I told her exactly what was required with the actual run. Look.” I spun the computer screen for Rhys to see my email. The instructions were clear.

Rhys read and agreed. “Still, we should’ve had her send a finished sample to check both the new materialandthe embroidery ahead of completion. One thing I’ve learned in this industry is never to put your faith inanysupplier, especially a new one. Check. Check. Check.”

Fuck. “I know and that’s on me.”

“No.” He eyeballed me. “It’s onbothof us. I didn’t ask for one either.”

“But you shouldn’t have to. That’s what my job is supposed to be about, getting shit right so you don’t have to worry. I warned you I didn’t have the experience. I’ll call her now.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Drew discreetly leave the office and close the door. I’d fucked up, and Rhys trying to convince me otherwise wasn’t going to change things. This could cost us... costRhysthousands. I slumped in my chair and locked eyes with Rhys as I politely but firmly told the manufacturer exactly what needed to happen if she didn’t want her business reputation sullied when it had barely got off the ground.

But that didn’t change the fact I should’ve thought about another sample. And Iwouldhave if I hadn’t been too damn distracted with Leon and letting him tempt me from my office desk when I was working late. Giving in to his care and embrace when I should’ve been doing my fucking job.

The manufacturer was suitably apologetic and very keen to remedy the situation. By the time I hung up, she’d promised if we couriered them back stat, she and her team would work the weekend to get them done by Tuesday.

I told all this to Rhys, who sighed with relief. “So, we should still be able to make that shipment date,” I finished. “I’m so fucking sorry. This is all my fault—”

“Will you stop saying that?” His voice rose, something that happened so rarely I immediately fell silent. “It’s not your fault. It’stheirs.Your email was clear. The designs you sent were clear.Theyscrewed up.”

“But I took my eye off the ball and...” I didn’t finish.

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