Today, for some reason, it rubs me the wrong way.
I’ve been on the receiving end of libelous gossip stories in all the rags. I ignore it. Always. But I don’t want Skye subjected to it.
“Call Kay and tell her I’m not interested in talking,” I tell Claire.
“I will. Just so you’re aware, though, Kay knows the name of your date last night. She mentioned Skye Manning.”
I lift my eyebrows, though I don’t know why I’m surprised. Boston’s resident bloodhound can easily sniff out that kind of information.
“Very well. Make the call anyway.”
“Will do. I don’t expect that to stop her, though.”
I sigh. “Neither do I. Thanks, Claire.”
Kay Brown is relentless. She’s a hired gun for the Boston Babbler, our local gossip rag where all the stories use an “unnamed source.” I swear to God, they just make most of the shit up. I normally let it roll off my back. All the stories are forgotten as soon as the next issue rolls out.
But again, I don’t want Skye involved.
Why am I feeling so protective of her? She’s a grown woman, for God’s sake.
The emotion bubbling inside me is becoming more than disorienting.
It’s agitating.
And I don’t like feeling agitated.
My mind is racing. This day is no different from any given day in my world. I have no fewer than twenty projects in the works, no fewer than fifteen calls to return.
Definitely a lot to do.
Instead, I rise.
I know Kay Brown. She’ll be dogging Skye in no time, so I should warn her. That’s all it is. The fact that I’m itching to see Skye doesn’t enter my mind.
But I’ve never been a good liar, especially to myself.
I want to see Skye. She has to eat. I’ll take her to lunch.
“I’ll be out until two or three,” I tell Claire. “I’m heading to the food bank after lunch.”
She nods. “Got it. I put in the call to Kay, but she’s not answering her cell.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t worry. She’ll call back.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m walking into the Ames Hotel, my shoes clacking across the marble lobby, past the elevators, to the offices.
The door to Addison’s office is open, and as I get closer—
Skye’s voice. “Yeah, I eat early. Since Addie’s not in, I need to close up the office. Please excuse me.”
I walk through the door.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Skye, purse in hand, is standing in front of her desk.
Five feet away from her is none other than Kay Brown. Christ.
“Kay,” I say. “I can’t say I’m surprised to see you here, since you’ve already called my office three times today.”
“Mr. Black.” She holds out her hand. “A pleasure as always.”
I take her hand and shake it firmly. “If you’ll excuse us, I need to talk to Skye.”
“Of course. How long have you two been dating?”
To Kay Brown, “of course” apparently means “not until I ask you myriad questions.” I’ll throw her a bone.
“We only met about a week ago,” I say.
“And your date at the gala?”
“We didn’t arrive together. Ms. Manning and I saw each other at the gala and talked a bit.”
Skye’s audible gulp doesn’t escape my notice. Is she upset at my response?
Kay turns to Skye. “Your lunch date, Ms. Manning, is with Mr. Black?”
“No, it’s—”
“Yes, it is,” I say, taking advantage of the situation to get Skye out of there. “Are you ready, Skye?”
She clears her throat. “Yeah, I’m ready. I need to lock up.”
“Of course.” Kay walks out the door and then turns and looks over her shoulder. “I’ll be in touch. With both of you.” And then she’s gone.
“Thanks for the save,” Skye says. “I thought she was here to see Addie.”
“I figured she’d bother you this morning after she called my office and mentioned you by name.”
“You came here to warn me?”
“In part.”
“In part?”
“Yeah. I thought you might be up for an early lunch.”
“Sorry. I’m meeting Tessa in an hour.”
I narrow my eyes and burn her with my gaze. “Cancel.” The word comes out on a low growl.
She grasps the edge of the desk. “I can’t. Tess and I always have lunch on Mondays.”
Her phone buzzes. “Excuse me for a minute,” she says to me. “Hey, Tess.”
Pause.
“Oh?” Skye’s eyes widen.
Pause.
She clears her throat. “He said he’d replace it.”
Pause.
“Hold on a minute.” She mutes the phone and turns to me. “She got the dress.”
“Good.”
“She says it’s perfect. Did you get it repaired?”
“It was beyond repair, as you know.”
“Then how did you…?”
“I gave the remains to my personal tailor yesterday, along with your Instagram photo. He was able to replicate it.”
Her jaw drops. “In a day?”
“I’m a very good customer.” I smirk.
She unmutes the phone. “His tailor replicated it yesterday,” she tells Tessa.
Pause.
“You can tell him yourself.” She hands the phone to me.
“Ms. Logan,” I say.
“Mr. Black…I mean…Braden. Hi. I’m not sure what to say. This could totally be the same dress. Thank you so much.”
“You’re very welcome. Anytime.”
“You didn’t have to,” Tessa says. “What’s a dress between best friends? I wish there was some way I could repay you.”
“Actually, there is something you can do for me.”
“Of course. Anything.”
“Let me take Skye to lunch today. You can have lunch with her tomorrow.”