Page 70 of A Taste of Trouble

Austin pulled out a pair of black leather boots. Not just any black leather boots. Her heart leapt at the sight of the classic red sole—Christian Louboutin.

“You didn't!” She lunged for the boots, but Austin held her at arm's length.

“Do you like?” He beamed with confidence.

Liv may not have been label-conscious or determined to add labels to her wardrobe, but what girl wouldn't want a pair of Louboutins?

“I love!” She clasped her hands in front of her chest then reached for the boots. They were soft and supple in her hands. She yanked them on her feet. The sound of the zipper teeth clenching was music to her ears. “I don't have to give these back, right?”

Austin confirmed with a shake of his head.

She paraded around her bedroom. She felt sexy and confident and ready to take on this date. She posed for her friend, hand on her hip, with her best supermodel face. “Are you sure these jeans aren't too tight?”

“They're perfect. Compared to the crap you usually wear, he's going to bust a gut when he sees you.”

“What else did you bring me?”

He rustled around and pulled out an oversized fuchsia bag. “No collection is complete without a little Dior.”

“Nice!”

Liv hugged the purse, but her eyes darted back to the bed to the newspaper sitting on top of the bag. “What's that?”

“Oh.” Austin lunged for the paper.

“Is that my ad?” This was a big deal. Her very first major ad campaign for her business.

“It's your ad.” Austin's face wasn't…happy.

“Let me see it.” She reached for the paper but Austin pulled it close to his chest.

“I didn't want you to see this before your date.”

Dread. That same feeling that had been haunting her settled in her stomach.

“Let me see it, Austin.”

He hesitated but eventually handed it over.

Liv didn't have to search through the pages. Austin had kindly folded the paper to the correct section. She couldn't afford one of the larger ad spaces, not at this point, so she had opted to go with sort of a co-op ad. She'd sent her logo by email weeks ago. The logo would remain a constant, and all she had to do was send in the text. Each week, for four weeks, she could advertise any two hundred and fifty words.

But…the text. She wasn't Toronto's newest ”capcake bakery.” Capcake? The ad was spelled incorrectly. She had checked it over a hundred times.

“I'm sorry, honey.” Austin reached out and rubbed her arm.

She proofed the document one hundred times before handing it off to Nancy. Nancy. She must've screwed with the text—that was the only possible explanation. Nancy had some serious explaining to do.

“It's…fine.” She wanted to hide under a rock. How embarrassing. How unprofessional. Who would want to buy a product from someone who couldn't even get her advertisement right? She took a deep breath and laid the paper on the bed. There was nothing she could do about it at this moment. “Really, it's fine.”

“Go on.” Austin grabbed her arms and shook her. “Go and do a last glance and fix your face.” He was right to refocus. Liv had a date.

She rushed into the bathroom. When she returned, Austin had already transferred everything she needed into the new bag.

“I put in lip gloss, your compact, breath mints, some smelly hand cream, and an extra pair of underwear.”

“Austin, I don't think I need that.”

“Do you plan on doing the walk of shame in your dirty undies?” He held the purse out to her as it dangled on one of his fingers.

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