“Something like this,” I said, feeling Finn at my shoulder. His presence was all heat, yet I fought off a shiver. “The style should evolve over the course of the film as attitudes shift.”
“Yes,” he said, nodding along. Were we actually agreeing on something? He hummed, and I felt his breath along the side of my neck. I resisted the urge to tug at the collar of my shirt, but when I turned my head, finding him rightthere, my pulse skipped.
“What?” he said, catching my eye with that gaze that made me a little dizzy.
“Nothing. Just surprised you actually had a good idea.”
“All my ideas are good,” he growled.
I opened my mouth to respond. To say that maybe there was a chance that working for him wouldn’t be a complete nightmare after all. But Brenna raced back in, holding out another phone to Finn. “It’s the construction crew. Sets are behind.”
Finn took the phone, his attitude shifting so quickly it gave me whiplash. “Tony, we agreed to yesterday!” he snapped. “And when that fell through, you promised me this morning.”
He stormed across the room in a huff. I caught Brenna’s eye and winced. “Poor Tony,” I whispered.
She nodded. “He needs our prayers.” I snorted at that. I really liked her.
“Get me and X more polished versions of those new designs!” Finn snapped at me from the doorway. “By the end of the day.”
And then he was gone, probably to make Tony’s day miserable.
“Brenna!” he called behind him.
“Gotta go,” she said, taking off after him.
Okay, Mr. Bigshot. I took back all my earlier thoughts. Working for Finn Lockhart was nothing short of nightmarish. But as I glanced down at the new costume direction in my hand, I realized he was a nightmare who might actually know what he was doing.
Not that I’d ever admit that to him, of course.
8
FINN
“Tony, don’t make me angry,” I snapped, phone pressed to my ear as I strode down the hallway toward the conference room where Sierra and X were waiting to talk with me about the background costumes. “We sorted this out yesterday. You told me you’d make this look period appropriate.”
Tony muttered about a backlogged delivery of inlaid wood.
“I don’t want to hear about the problem, I want to hear about the solution.” Unfortunately, when he threw out a potential fix, I had no idea if it made sense. “The historical consultant starts today.” They were supposed to be at this costuming meeting. “I’ll bring them by to have a look at the sets in an hour.”
I hung up, hearing the clack of heeled boots behind me. I didn’t slow down. Brenna reached me, slightly out of breath as she held out a tablet. “This needs your approval,” she said.
“What is it?”
“The shooting schedule adjustment you asked for,” she said.
About time. I scribbled off my signature and passed the tablet back. “Get that sent out to the crew ASAP. And when you’re done with that, track down the delivery Tony’s waiting on and find out what it’s going to cost to get the materials heretoday.”
“Got it,” Brenna said, falling in step behind me as I walked through the door of the conference room. Everyone turned to look my way. I scanned the faces, stopping so hard my shoes squeaked against the floor. My eyes almost bugged out of my head.
Because there, standing in the middle of the room with Sierra and X, was my mother.
“Mom?” I said, at a complete loss for words.You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!
“Hello, darling,” she said, crossing the room to greet me with a hug and a bright smile.
I just stared back at her as she pulled away. What the hell was she doing here? And then it hit me. Thehistorical consultant.
My fingers curled by my sides, and my eyes cut across to Brenna who’d slunk into the corner of the room, clutching the tablet to her chest. She seemed to be holding her breath.