Page 16 of Crossing Lines

Her face pales for a moment before she glares at me and throws her shoulders back. I can practically see the walls she’s putting up as a defensive barrier around herself.

From what I understand, she grew up on the edge of poverty, just like Elodie. I wonder if she doesn’t go after her goals because she’s afraid to fail. The fear of failure drove me towards success; I had too many people relying on me to not succeed. But it seems to be the opposite for her. I wonder if her friends call her out on it, because I know for a fact that Stella offered her a deal to sell the jacket because she called to insist that I offer the same to Nina. I told her I’d happily give Nina the deal if only Nina asked me herself.

And that never happened.

“I’d rather be poor,” she says, “than sell out and work with someone like you.”

“Like me? You mean a fair businessman who’s giving you the opportunity of a lifetime?”

“Oh,please.Am I supposed to be grateful for yourcharity?”

Ahh, so that’s why she’s worked up. She doesn’t want a handout. But can’t she see that it’s not a handout but something well deserved?

“Charity?” I scoff.“More like an investment.I see your potential, and I’m willing to bet on it. The question is, are you willing to bet on yourself?”

“I bet on myself every day, but that doesn’t change my answer. I don’t want to work with you.”

“Whatever you say.”

“It’s true.”

“Keep telling yourself that. In the meantime, can you make me a shirt like yours?” Maybe if she starts with something small, she’ll be more inclined to take the franchising deal later on. My gut says she wants it, but something is holding her back.

“Why?” she asks skeptically.

“I want to wear it to my meetings this week and help me close some deals.” I almost smile, imagining what Will from Stonehaven would’ve thought if he saw me wearing a shirt like that. At least then he’d have a real reason to claim a difference in branding between our companies.

Her mouth drops open in shock before snapping shut. “Definitely not. This is a custom piece only for me.”

She glares at me, as if what I asked was an impossibility. The urge to smile strikes me once again. It’s only six in the morning, and this is the most fun I’ve had before starting my workday. It’s like all my work issues disappear when I talk to Nina. I’m not sure why that happens, but I like it. More than I should.

Chapter 5

Nina

“Babes!” Aria shouts from the booth in the club she reserved for us tonight. She’s really leaning into her Disney princess image today, wearing an emerald, strapless swing dress with a bubbled bottom that hits her mid-calf. She’s overdressed for a random club in Skyrise, but Aria doesn’t ever dress down. Her long, black hair is pulled fully up, and her makeup is done to perfection to highlight her doll-like, blue eyes.

I laugh and hug her before Elodie playfully elbows me out of the way and hugs Aria herself. It feels like forever since we saw her, and so it was surprising that she texted earlier today saying that she was going to be in town and that she wanted to see us.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Elodie says as Aria slides in the booth next to her.

“Me, too,” Aria says. “I needed a break from New York City.”

“Oh?” I ask. “Any reason?”

“Nope,” Aria says, waving down a server and ordering us all drinks. That sounds like a yes if I ever heard one, but I don’t push. At least not before we have some alcohol in our systems.

“So…” she says, a French Blonde in hand and shots on the table. “Catch me up on life. What’s new?”

“I’m boring,” Elodie says. “Busy with the bakery and Hunter. But I think Nina has the most to tell.”

Aria bursts out laughing. “Right, how’s living with Evren going?”

“He’s annoying as hell,” I say. But the truth is, messing with his routine is quickly becoming the highlight of my day. There’s something oddly satisfying about needling Evren, who I’m starting to discover has a sense of humor buried under his layers of seriousness.

Like last night—I filled the pool with unicorn floats to interrupt his swim time. He saluted the pool house, as if he knew I was watching, and jumped into the water, anyway. And this morning, I found my favorite marshmallow cereal in my usual cereal box. When he came downstairs, he was holding a bowl of my cinnamon sugar cereal and acted all innocent, like he had no idea how that switch happened.

I refuse to acknowledge that I don’t actually like the off-brand cereal I bought, and that I’m relieved he’s eating it. I would’ve never thrown it out and instead would’ve forced myself to eat it all before buying somethingdifferent.

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