Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” He twisted the doorknob behind him and let it swing open. “Here. This is what I brought you back here for.” He turned and glared at Vincent. “Not to fucking attack her.”

He stormed from the room, back into the bar. Rebel gave me a sad look but followed after him, which told me she was upset with me too.

That left me with Vincent. “I’m sorry. I owe you an apology, too. I really messed that all up. I’ll talk to Nash and explain. He won’t make things hard for you here.”

Vincent shook his head. “I don’t care about that. As long as you aren’t hurt.”

I put my hand on his chest. “I’m not. I swear.”

Vincent hovered, but I just wanted to be alone.

“Can I have a minute, please?” I asked.

“I’ll wait by the main door.”

I thanked him and watched him walk away. Embarrassment and guilt washed over me. I couldn’t stop seeing the hurt on Nash’s face.

I’d make it up to him. I’d grovel and beg forgiveness.

I didn’t want things to be weird between us. Not when we were running this business together.

I stepped into the little room Nash had opened up and gasped. The walls had been freshly painted a soft pink, the chemical scent from the paint still lingering. A stained wooden desk sat in the very center of the room with a small love seat pressed to one side. The room was full of natural light courtesy of a skylight, which made up for the fact there was no window, and it fell over a couple of indoor plants in rose-gold-colored pots. A little pink name plate sat on the desk, and when I picked it up, I almost burst into tears.

Boss Girl was printed in gold lettering.

He’d made me an office.

A beautiful one that was me through and through. It was perfect. It was right by where all the main action happened on the party side, just like his office was right where all the action happened on the bar side.

I wanted to cry looking at it.

I’d been working so hard to change. I didn’t want to be a sheltered, naïve, stuck-up woman from Providence who let her fiancé hurt her and her best friend fill her head with elitist rubbish. I didn’t want to be the sort of person who jumped to conclusions about a man who’d done nothing but help and watch out for me.

Nash had seen what I needed and given it to me without even asking.

All I’d given him were unfounded accusations and a blatant lack of trust and respect.

“I’ll earn it back,” I promised the silent room. “I swear, I’ll earn it back.”