Page 52 of Flare

I glanced up the hall.

He sighed. “It’s empty for now and I flipped theback in 5 minutessign, so talk.”

I flattened my lips. There was only one person I wanted to talk to, Beck, and that was never gonna happen.

Kip kicked my foot with his. “Don’t give me that look. I mean it, Rhys. Talk or I’ll call your mother.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

His look said it all.

I blew a long sigh. “How could she?” I couldn’t hide the shake in my voice.

His expression softened. “I know. I couldn’t fucking believe it. You worked for her for eight years. What the fuck was she thinking?”

“You don’t think it was a genuine mistake? That she legitimately came up with the same design?”

Kip batted his lashes and said nothing.

“Yeah, neither do I.” I slumped in a chair and fingered the metal rim of the scratched Formica tabletop.

“I told you, you were her best designer,” Kip said quietly. “And that shirt was a game changer for us when we first opened. It was kind of sad we couldn’t save it for the show, but we had to start making money. And it worked. They flew out the door even at the hefty price. I’d been wondering why that flood had slowed to a trickle. Now we know.”

“She’s got them in her London and US stores as well. And did you read all those great reviews? Fuck.” I dropped my head to the table. “How did I not know about this?”

Kip’s hand landed on my back. “Because you’ve been busy running a new business and getting your first collection ready to show at Fashion Week, and she knew that.”

I looked up. “I can’t believe she did this. Why? She’s huge. She doesn’t need to steal my designs.”

He shrugged. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing.” I answered honestly. “There’s nothing Icando. She’s showing in Fashion Week. If I publicly accuse her of stealing my designs, it’ll cause a huge stink and I won’t have a leg to stand on. She could accuse me of slandering her label, and then, if the organisers want to stand one of us down to smooth things over with the public, who do you think they’ll choose? The biggest menswear label in the country and a major international brand, or little old me?”

Kip blew out a long, slow breath. “Fucking hell.”

“Right? I’m just going to have to suck it up.” The sour taste of bile hit the back of my throat. “That doesn’t mean I won’t give her a piece of my mind in private when I run into her. But even then, I have to be careful. She has a lot of influence.”

Kip grabbed the milk from the fridge. “That weaselly motherfucking witch. She’s trying to fuck us over, you realise that? She doesn’t want the competition. I bet she’s worried how her collection is going to stack up next to ours on the runway. Well, she damn well should be cos we’re gonna smoke that bitch’s arse.”

I couldn’t help the smile.Us.Ours.The reassurance, rightly or wrongly, that I wasn’t in this alone unclenched something in my gut and let me breathe again. I stood and pulled a startled Kip into a hug. “I don’t tell you often enough how important you are to meandto the success of this store. I’ll try to do better.”

Kip hesitated, then returned the hug with gusto before pulling back and eyeing me suspiciously. “Are you dying? Cos youneverinitiate a hug.”

“No, you dipshit.”

“Only, if youaredying...” He looked super serious. “I want first dibs on the Vincent Chandler suit, the one we haven’t managed to sell because it costs more than most people’s first house. Just saying.”

I held up my hands. “It’s yours, no question.”

“Excellent.” He smiled broadly. “Now, what happened with Beck on Wednesday?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Imean, you and Beck left together for a drink on Wednesday and then he came back on his own to collect Jack. Alone and very obviously not happy.”

“Not happy?” I tried to sound casual, which earned me a scowl.

“Stop it, Rhys. You know damn well what I mean. Something happened between you two. Do I have to find the guy and fuck him up?”

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