Page 128 of Flare

Preston nodded. “Keep watching.”

This time the figure slowed outside the store, then stepped into the doorway and put their back to the camera. A few seconds later they smashed the glass, threw something inside and quickly disappeared up the street. The fire alarm sounded soon after, and Jack and Drew and Leon quickly made their appearances. At least the footage cleared the boys.

“I’ll play it again.”

Preston ran it through three more times but there was just nothing to see.

“How tall do you think the person is?” Beck asked.

“Five nine, possibly six feet,” Preston answered. “And you’re sure nothing stands out about their clothing. What about the watch?”

Beck shook his head, but I hesitated and Preston scooted forward on his seat. “What?”

“It could be a Breitling but I can’t be sure. The silver strap is kind of unique but that doesn’t mean it’s the real deal. It could be a five-thousand-dollar watch or a worthless knockoff.”

“But it’s a man’s watch?” Preston asked.

I shook my head. “Not necessarily. It’s a current fashion trend for women to wear men’s watches, especially expensive watches, and knockoffs are easy to find. Plus, five thousand isn’t a lot to pay in fashion circles.” I watched the clip again and then slumped in my chair. “Nope, nothing. You should try Kip and Leon. What about other security cameras?”

“We’re pulling whatever footage we can find within a few blocks, and we’ll be checking witheveryonewho works in the vicinity. It was a long shot, but thanks for trying. I’ll send you a copy, and if something comes to you, let me know. In the meantime, we’ll keep on it, and I’ll start on the other business when I get a chance. We hope to nail something more positive before the end of the week.”

We shook hands and I left the station with Beck’s arm around my waist.

"You okay, baby?” He pulled me close. “You were amazing.”

“I’m... good, actually.” I heard the surprise in my own voice. “Shaky, but good.”

He pressed a kiss to my hair and a kernel of something I couldn’t name but that felt big and important was planted in my chest, and I felt lighter going into the week ahead.

* * *

The lightness didn’t last.

Gloria’s interview came out on the Monday, basically slamming me for ruining her good name when anyone could see the designs were not identical and accusing me of using her label to claw publicity for myself in the build-up to the show. She mourned the loss of standards in the industry, citing me as an example of the worst of the new blood aiming for the top and not caring how I got there.

Of course, no mention was made of the Regency-look coat she’d planned to release that would’ve ruined my debut year before I even started, but I couldn’t point that out since it was never released. Beck and I talked over the pros and cons of responding to the article, but in the end decided the best response was to ignore it as best I could and let my show speak for itself. Of course, that relied on me actually making it a success. Between the fire, Gloria, and the show, I was drowning in pressure.

Added to that, the highly anticipated call to say the police had tracked the arsonist never came. A fact which made everyone more than a bit twitchy by the time Friday rolled around. Neither Kip nor Leon recognised the person on the security footage. Even Jack and Drew had taken a look, but no luck.

Preston was good to his word and kept us informed even if there was no progress to report. The police had been able to tap into other security footage and follow the person responsible for a couple of blocks, but the they’d eventually been lost in Albert Park, and still without showing their face. Past the park, there were just too many options for where they might’ve gone, and the search wasn’t going to be easy or quick. Added to that, if the arsonist had ditched their clothes or changed their appearance in any way while out of camera sight, that would be the end of it.

Not that we’d had a lot of time to dwell on it. Even with the amazing team Kip had assembled, it still took two days and two equally long nights to get the store stripped and ready for refurbishment after the arson squad handed it over on the Wednesday. But they’d gotten there, and by the end of the week it was clean and prepped, ready to start the paint and refurb. And they’d done most of it without me.

I’d barely even poked my head inside the door for longer than a couple of hours at a time, what with press commitments and last-minute dramas that went with finessing a fashion show. Not to mention I’d had a longer than usual session with Callum who gave me a gold star for surviving the stressful week without my hair catching on fire. The joke was probably too soon, I’d told him.

But everyone else, including my mother, Jack, Hunter, Drew, Leon, and a host of Kip’s friends that I barely knew, gave whatever free time they could. Even Rafe had turned up, he and Kip getting on far too well, as I’d suspected they would. They were going to be trouble. But everyone’s generosity left me humbled and grateful, and so when Friday evening came, I ditched the schmoozing at Fashion Week and took a stack of pizzas to my friends instead.

We circled the chairs and huddled over our dinner in the hollowed-out interior of my store, laughing and chatting, and my heart brimmed with a dozen emotions, some of them brand new. People in my space, people helping, people caring, people fucking being there for me—around my walls, under my skin, and in my hair. And I was kind of okay with all of it. Well, I was getting there.

Beck caught my eye from the other side of the circle, lifted his beer in salute, and winked. And oh yeah, people I loved. The man I loved.

Kip nudged my foot and I turned to find him smiling broadly. “You okay, Boss?”

A fat tear rolled down my face and I pulled him into an awkward hug. “I can’t thank you enough. For everything.”

He pulled away with a wry smile. “So that means I get a raise, right? Or first dibs on those Gentop suits coming in next month?”

I laughed. “It’s like you don’t even know me.” I stood and raised my beer to the group. “Thanks to you all. I couldn’t have done this without your help. To Flare.” I raised my bottle.

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