I breathed out a sigh. I needed to sleep. Tomorrow is good. Or just, soon.
Okay, he texted back. Goodnight, Dani.
Goodnight.
Chapter Twenty
Alex
It wasn’t that I wasn’t excited about the Compassion Experiment. The entire event was turning into something bigger, more impressive than anything I’d imagined. But I couldn’t wait for the thing to be over. It felt as though every day brought additional problems, small details I’d forgotten about, phone calls from the other sponsors asking questions that only I knew how to answer. I hardly had enough hours in the day. Isaac and the rest of the team were as helpful as they could be, but they still had a daily show to write, film and produce. We were all stretched thin.
I listened as Rizzo went on and on about his expectations for the actual Christmas Eve event—food he wanted to see, the number of VIP passes he expected to receive. If nothing else, the man had firmly cemented my appreciation for Isaac’s charitable heart. Rizzo still seemed incapable of grasping the actual reason for the entire event. “I hear you, Rizzo,” I said through clenched teeth. “But I’m not making any promises. I can assure you, everything about the food and the décor will meet your satisfaction. We’ve hired the best there is to handle it.”
Dani walked into the living room, mail in her hand, and held up a few letters that must have been for me. I held up the phone, and she motioned down the hall toward my room. I nodded, sure she’d just drop them on my desk. We still hadn’t had the conversation she’d alluded to the night before. Time and privacy were scarce.
A few minutes later, when I finally ended the call with Rizzo, Dani still hadn’t returned.
I dropped my phone into my pocket and moved down the hallway, pausing when I reached the doorway of my room. Dani stood at my desk, Sasha’s wedding invitation in her hand.
“Hi,” I said softly.
She spun around, dropping the invitation back onto the desk.
“Hi. Sorry. I just . . .” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have snooped. I saw it sitting there and curiosity got the best of me.”
I walked over to the desk and touched the invitation with a single finger, spinning it so it faced me. “I’m honestly surprised they sent me one.”
She sank down onto my bed, her shoulders slumped. “Are you going to go?” she asked, without looking up.
“I wasn’t planning on it. I don’t think they truly want me there.” The thought occurred to me that she might want to attend. Fashion was her world, after all, and the wedding was sure to be one of the biggest events in fashion in quite some time. “Do you want to go? I mean, I would go. If you wanted me to take you.”
She scoffed and I winced at the sound, though I shouldn’t have been surprised. Attending a destination wedding in the Florida Keys with your ex probably didn’t sound like a picnic.
“I’m touched that you’d be willing to do something so horrible for my benefit, but I don’t want to go,” Dani said softly. “I couldn’t bear to see it. To see her.”
I sat next to her, landing closer than I’d intended. I expected her to shift aside, making room, but she didn’t move. Our arms touched, the warmth of her cutting through the sleeve of my shirt and reaching my skin. I swallowed, intensely aware of how close she was. Everything about her felt familiar. The smell of her hair, the way it tumbled down her shoulders, even the rhythm of her breathing felt like something I recognized. Like all the time we’d spent in each other’s arms had somehow left a permanent imprint of her on my consciousness. I closed my eyes, remembering the lazy afternoons we’d spend lounging around, the way I’d trail my fingers over her shoulder before wrapping a curl of her hair around my finger, pulling it straight before watching it bounce back into place. She’d always swatted my hand away, claiming the more I touched her hair the frizzier it would get. But I’d rarely been able to stop myself.
“You said you wanted to talk, right?”
She nodded her head just slightly.
“Is now a good time?”
She looked my way, bringing her face only inches from mine.
I willed the images of her out of my mind and focused on what Dani needed. She needed a friend. Someone to listen. “What happened at LeFranc?” I asked softly. “Why did you leave?”
She sighed, looking up at the ceiling before bringing her gaze back to me.
I couldn’t push her for details. I was curious for sure, and maybe even half-hoped that Dani’s departure had something to do with Sasha’s criminal activity. I still dreamed of confronting Alicio with the truth I knew was hidden somewhere inside his company. Sasha was a thief and a liar and maybe Dani could help me prove that.
But I couldn’t make her leaving LeFranc about me. That wasn’t fair.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I added. I willed my voice to remain even, neutral.
“I should tell you,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s just embarrassing. I should have seen what was happening and I didn’t. I literally walked right into her trap.”
“Dani, Sasha is very good at manipulating people. Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t feel—”
“I made a wedding dress for Paige,” she said, cutting me off. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever made, and it was perfect.”
She pulled out her phone and opened up a picture, handing it over for me to see. It was a photo of Sasha in what I assumed was the wedding dress Dani had made.
“Chase sent that to me yesterday. She just showed it to the design team. It’s the first in the Sasha Wellington Collection, LeFranc’s debut line of wedding gowns. That’s the one she plans to wear at her wedding.”
“Except you made it,” I said.
She nodded. “For Paige. Sasha saw it and promised that if I let her have it, she’d make me lead designer on her new team. I thought she just wanted it to be a part of the line, that she for sure already had her own dress designed, but I was wrong. I caught her wearing the dress, having it altered to fit her. She stole it. And she never had any intention of letting me design with her. It was a lie just so she could get her hands on the dress.”
I cursed, familiar frustration welling up inside. The woman was rotten from the inside out. “She can’t really get away with it, can she? Surely someone would believe you if you came forward and told them what happened.”
“Why would anyone believe me? Sasha’s a powerful woman. She threatened to ruin my name in the industry, and she could, too. Negative feedback from LeFranc? There’s not a designer in all of New York that would hire me with that on my resume.”
I hated to admit it, but she was right. Sasha really did have that kind of influence. Not that she deserved it.
“What about Paige? Can you make her the dress again?”
She shook her head. “I can’t. It would cost me hundreds of dollars to buy the lace and fabric I would need. Plus, where would I work? All my sewing stuff is still in a trailer parked at Mirna’s house in Brooklyn. What’s more, I’m pretty sure if I made the same dress, Sasha would find a way to sue me for stealing her idea.”