Page 16 of Have To Be Mine

“I sent an email.” I leaned back. “Can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“The pants.”

She didn’t look up from the screen. “What about them?”

“We’re in Greece. We’re doing a fashion campaign. You’re making us look bad.”

“Corfu. Content shoot. Three days, fourteen models, two influencer partnerships, a full video production crew, and a photography team.”

“Corfu is fine,” I said. “Corfu is models on a beach. That’s not a logistics problem, that’s a Tuesday. And before you say it, Mykonos is fine. That’s the talent appreciation weekend. We send the models and influencers there as a thank you, and they enjoy the hospitality on the Blackwell dime. Everybody shows up happy and rested for Santorini. It’s a party. It runs itself. We don’t have to be there.”

“We’ll see,” she said. “Santorini. Runway show and line reveal. This is the one that matters. The big one. I was told very clearly this was the one that deserved most of the attention. I want to confirm our travel so we have people on the ground at each location. Not at a distance. On site.”

“People,” I said. “You mean us.”

“I mean us.”

“Together.”

“That is typically what ‘us’ implies, yes.”

I stared at her, waiting for her to look away. She didn’t. I got the sense she could do this indefinitely.

“I can handle this,” I said. “Without you shadowing me across four cities. I know what I’m doing.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Because my brother is dramatic. Paranoid. Boring.”

“I wasn’t hired by just your brother.”

I frowned. “What?”

“Adrian contacted me first, yes. But the contract was signed by Adrian and Briggs.” She paused. “Both of them.”

It felt like I had been slapped. “Both.”

“Yep.”

“They’ve been talking about me,” I said.

“They’re concerned about the campaign.”

“They’ve been talking about me behind my back. And that’s why you think I’m a failure.”

“I didn’t say you were a failure,” she said.

“You didn’t have to. It’s in your eyes.” I pointed to the phone in her hand. “And in there. You’ve got me micromanaged to the last minute of the day, don’t you?”

“No. I’ve got a schedule and I’m expecting you to keep to it. I’ll be there to remind you.”

She tried to phrase it like it wasn’t what it was. My warden. Those dark, assessing eyes that had intrigued me days ago were locked on me. That gaze made me feel small. Judged. And I hated it.

“Well, this is going to be a lot of fun, but if you’ll excuse me, I have dessert waiting for me.”

She was completely unbothered. “Enjoy your dessert,” she said as she got to her feet.