Page 35 of A Step You Shouldn't Take

“And?”

Red and pink were pretty much the same, weren’t they?

“The bride’s ex-boyfriend was called Red, they had a bad break-up, and she insisted there be no red in the wedding whatsoever.”

“I guess I see how that could cause an issue. So, what are you doing about it?”

“I have pink ribbon, and I’m redoing all the closures.”

“How many bags?”

“Three hundred and twenty.”

“And how many have you done?”

A long sigh. “Sixty-three.”

“What about the other girls? Can’t they help?”

“Annie’s on a date, and Kayla’s got a family dinner.”

“Show me what to do, and I’ll help.”

“You?”

Yeah, my offer surprised me too. Weaving ribbons wasn’t what I’d planned to do when I left the gym, but when the alternative was falling asleep in my car a few hours earlier, I figured I might as well lend a hand.

“I’m not a complete Neanderthal.”

“You’ve certainly got the right hair.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

“You’re right. It needs a cut.”

Now I had some cash, I’d get it done soon.

CHAPTER 11 - KIMBERLY

SALVATION CAME IN many forms, but I hadn’t expected it to stomp through my door in Reed Cullen’s cracked leather boots. After a day spent hunting down lemon-yellow bridles for the Falabella horses, the red ribbons had been the last straw.

My heart was still racing, and part of me wanted to chew Reed out for turning up so late at night, but I really did need the help. I’d gladly pay him forty-five bucks an hour if he knew how to tie a darn bow.

I was desperate, okay?

“I’ll show you what to do.”

Each bag needed the red ribbon pulled out, then pink ribbon re-threaded through the holes in the lace to make a drawstring. A fiddly job, and I worried Reed’s fingers would be too big, but they seemed remarkably nimble. In fact, he was faster than me.

We’d reworked another fifty bags between us, sitting at the glass table in the meeting area, before I dared to interrupt our progress.

“Thanks for doing this.”

“It’s splendid.”

I ignored the dig. “Did you say you had an update?”

“Yeah, I do, but don’t get too excited.” He told me about his week, about seeing the car and all its drivers and his trips to the deli and the car wash. “My next step is to start talking to these people, then I’ll get better pictures so we can do a line-up with your friend.”

But I was more interested in the Mercedes. Georgette was in the Mercedes, and the chauffeur took it to be cleaned every week. Regular as clockwork, Reed said.

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