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I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t. If I looked at him, I’d lose my place again, and I’d have to start over. There wasn’t time to start over because the event was starting in less than an hour and I still wasn’t confident I could deliver this speech without stumbling.

“Beau, I appreciate you being here, I really do, but I can’t do this right now.”

“Just take a breath,” he said gently. “You’re wound tighter than I’ve ever seen you. The speech is going to be fine.”

“You don’t understand.” My voice came out sharp enough to cut glass. “This isn’t just a speech. This is everything. If I mess this up, stumble or freeze or forget my words, it won’t matter how good the preorder numbers were. The board will see it. The media will see it. Everyone will be reminded of that disaster at the press conference, and all the work we’ve done to fix my image will be for nothing.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you,” he said.

“Can I please just have a second alone?” That was loud. Frustration and fear bled through despite my best efforts to stay composed. “Please. I need to focus. I can’t do the flirty thing right now.”

Beau went still. I saw hurt flash through his eyes but it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. He took a step back.

“Of course,” he said quietly. “We’ll talk after. You’ve got this, Darcy. Picture the beach. Hear the waves. There are bigger things in life.”

He turned and walked away, crossing the room to where my father was standing near one of the display cases. They chatted like nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t just snapped at him for trying to be supportive.

I watched him for a moment, guilt churning in my stomach alongside the nerves. I was an asshole. He’d shown up early with coffee. He’d tried to calm me down. He’d said all the right things, and I’d bitten his head off because I was too stressed to accept help gracefully.

World-class jerk.

This was exactly what I’d been worried about. Exactly why I’d told him a relationship would complicate things. I couldn’t be a good partner right now. I couldn’t give him what he deserved when all my energy was focused on not destroying my career.

But even as I thought it, another part of me recognized that pushing him away wasn’t the answer either. He was trying to be there for me. That was a good thing. That was what partners did. I just didn’t know how to let him.

I forced my attention back to the speech, but the words blurred together. My brain kept circling back to the look on his face when I’d told him to leave me alone. God, I was terrible at this.

The event coordinator finally took pity on me, or maybe she just ran out of questions. Either way, I found myself alone in the back office with ten precious minutes before showtime.

I closed my eyes and did what Beau had suggested. I pictured the beach. The sound of waves rolling in and out. The salt air. The feeling of sand between my toes. His hands on my waist as we tumbled through the surf.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

I went through the speech in my head, not reading the cards this time, just letting the words flow. I knew this material better than anyone because I’d lived it. Every design decision, every late night reviewing prototypes, every argument with the manufacturing team about settings and stones.

This collection was mine. My vision. My passion. And passion was exactly what I’d been accused of lacking.

I opened my eyes and looked at myself in the mirror hanging on the office wall. The woman staring back at me looked composed. Professional. Ready.

The event coordinator knocked softly on the door. “Ms. Corwin? We’re ready for you.”

“Coming.” I tucked the index cards into my pocket, even though I knew I wouldn’t need them.

My father stood near the small stage that had been set up for remarks. He caught my eye and nodded. I saw pride and encouragement in those eyes. This was it.

My father stepped up to the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us today for this very special occasion.” His voice carried easily through the room, commanding attention the way it always did. “I’ve spent my entire career building the Corwin Gem legacy. But today isn’t about the past. Today is about the future.”

He paused, letting the words land.

“It’s my privilege to introduce the woman who will be leading this company into its next chapter. My daughter, Darcy Corwin.”

Applause filled the room. I climbed the two steps to the stage. My father squeezed my shoulder as he handed me the microphone.

I faced the crowd and smiled.