I followed Soph back inside and took a seat on the armchair while she touched up her makeup in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. There was a pink suit in dry cleaner’s plastic draped over a chair, so it was clear she was headed off to another event.
“We need to talk,” I said.
She whirled around to face me. “You’re not quitting, are you?”
“No.”
Her shoulders slumped in relief.
“But you have to be straight with me about a few things,” I said.
She looked wary. “All right.”
“Miguel only agreed to let you offer me the position of creative director because he didn’t think I’d take it, did he?” I asked.
“No, he didn’t,” she said. “But I need you here, Belly. You’ve already improved our designs so much, even Miguel admitted that you bring a fresh perspective to the studio.”
“That’s nice,” I said. And it was. “But do you remember our lunch on my first day here. I told you I had a bad feeling about Carson, and you asked me to document any problems, particularly in regards to work?” She nodded. “Well, an email will be coming your way, but you have to know he totally sabotaged me at the meeting today. He never mentioned Schneider Pretzels to me, and I checked the project management list and it wasn’t put on there until after our meeting today.”
“I suspected as much,” she said. She looked grim. “I’ll talk to Miguel and tell him what Carson did.”
“But you don’t think Miguel will do anything about it,” I said.
Sophie dropped her head and sighed before she glanced back up. “I’m sure Carson already has an excuse locked and loaded. You know, one of the things I love most about my husband is his loyalty.”
“But?”
“But because he’s loyal to the core, he seems to believe everyone else is. Carson and Miguel are fraternity brothers. I don’t know the specifics, but Miguel told me enough to get the gist. When they were hazing, Carson saved Miguel from getting seriously hurt. Because of that, I can’t seem to break the spell Carson has got Miguel under. That’s why I need you here. Together, we can document every move Carson makes, and when we have enough, we can present it to Miguel as proof positive.”
“I’m not gonna lie,” I said. “This is stressful.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. She hugged me. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to stay.”
“Don’t be stupid,” I said. “Of course I’m staying. Carson can’t have my job. He’s made it personal now.”
She smiled. “That’s my Belly.” She turned back to the mirror to finish her makeup.
“There is one other thing I wanted to talk about,” I said. “Nick Daire.”
Soph was applying her mascara. Something in my tone must have alerted her to the fact that I’d met Nick Daire because she met my gaze in the mirror and then slowly turned around.
“What about him?” Her voice was guarded.
“Why did you let me think he was some shriveled-up old man?” I cried. “He’s, like, crazy hot. Hotter than hot. He’s scorchin’ hot.”
“No.” Soph shook her head. “No, no, no, no. You have to stay away from him. You haven’t talked to him, have you?”
I opened my mouth but she cut me off.
“Don’t!” she cried. “Don’t talk to him. Don’t go near him. Maintain a ten-foot perimeter at all times.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Because he is everything you fall for,” she said.
“Charming, funny, handsome, and smart?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “Broken, damaged, needy, and hot.”
“You admit he’s hot?”
“I’m not blind,” she retorted. “He’s not for you, Annabelle. He’ll use you up and spit you out, and I desperately do not want you to get your heart broken and leave. I need you. Promise me you’ll stay away from him.”
“He’s my landlord,” I said. “We live mere yards away from each other. That’s a virtual impossibility.”
“Is it?” she asked. “Miguel says he never leaves his house. How exactly did you happen to make his acquaintance?”
“Um . . .” I wasn’t sure I wanted to lead with the rule breaking. “Timing, you know, our comings and goings lined up.”
“Unalign them,” she said. “Seriously, you don’t want a repeat of Jeremy or the BD again, do you?”
“He doesn’t strike me as being anything like Jeremy or the big disappointment,” I said. I remembered the feel of his fingers on my wrist, tracing my tattoo, and my visceral reaction to his touch. Yeah, neither of my exes had ever affected me like that.
Sophie heaved a breath. She picked up her mascara and resumed her touch-up. “I can’t tell you what to do, I know that, but I can tell you that Nick Daire is not someone you want to get involved with, Belly. In all the years Miguel and I have known him, he’s never dated a woman for longer than a season, and now he’s—”
“In a wheelchair,” I said.
She lowered the wand again and met my gaze. “You know then. I’m surprised. He’s kept his situation private, very private, even going so far as to retire from his business, Daire Industries.”
I waited for more. There was no more. Maddening!
“What happened to him, Sophie?” I asked. She didn’t answer right away. I waited.
“I don’t know the details,” she said. “All I know is that he had a stroke last year and afterwards he withdrew completely from everyone and everything.”
“A stroke,” I said. “But he’s so young.”
“Thirty-five,” she confirmed. “Annabelle, please trust me when I tell you that steering clear of Daire is for the best.”
“Sure thing,” I agreed. To distract her from asking me to promise to avoid him—not gonna happen—I said, “You look really beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she said. “We have a . . . a client meeting and then we’re having dinner with the local entrepreneur group tonight, a snoozefest but the food is always amazing.”
“Eat a jumbo shrimp for me,” I said. I slipped out the door while she was still chuckling.
I’d been here only a little while, but I’d already noticed that Miguel and Sophie seemed to have standing client meetings at four o’clock in the afternoon a few times per week. I mentioned that Soph was a terrible liar? Yeah, every time she said “client meeting,” she got a crinkle in her nose and she tipped her head. Something was up with my friends, and it took all of my restraint not to demand to know what.