Page 24 of Her Ruin

Maybe Gerard had the extra money, but the delays? How was I going to get around the delays?

“I need this venue ready on time, or I can kiss Lyndsay and her recommendations away.” I stood up and paced my living room.

Lyndsay’s gala was my golden ticket to proving I had what it took to provide the perfect venue for my clients. If this fell apart—if I couldn’t pull this off—everything else I’d worked for would come crashing down.

On my laptop, I reviewed every contractor I’d worked with. I spent hours searching for nearby suppliers who had what I needed and had it in stock.

By midnight, I was no closer to getting a solution.

I stared at my phone, and almost against my will, I grabbed it, unlocking the screen. And there it was.

You work fast, Isla.

Zayn’s message from the other day.

I gritted my teeth.

He wasn’t just a distraction.

He was a damn temptation, too.

He was the last person I needed to reach out to. But…did I have a choice? Zayn had the resources, he had the connections, and he had the means to help me. If I swallowed my pride, I could maybe ask him if he knew of any other contractors who could make this project deliver on time.

Could I do that? Could I really turn to him for help?

He hadn’t used the same contractors for Elixir as I had for The Grand. I knew that. I’d made notes. I hadn’t purposefully avoided using the same ones, but itmighthave been a subconscious decision not to.

Was that what had cost me?

My pride?

“Damn it!”

The thought of asking him made my stomach turn, but it also felt like the only option. If I didn’t find a way to complete this on time, I wouldn’t be able to deliver the gala. Lyndsay didn’t tolerate failure.

This wasn’t about beating him anymore.

This was my career.

I glanced at the clock. It was after midnight. With a churning in my gut, I reached for the phone. My fingers hovered while I stared at the number. I hadn’t even added him as a contact on my phone, and now, now, I was thinking he might be the only one who could help me. I saved the number to my contacts.

With shaky fingers, I typed.

We need to talk

I stared at it for a few moments. I wanted to delete it, wipe the message, and never think about it again. With a groan, I pressed send.

My heart was pounding. My palms were clammy, and my thoughts were running wild.

That was it. I’d made my choice. I was going to ask him for his help, and if he got me out of this mess…well, I’d have to face whatever came next.

It took an hour, but finally, the reply came through, waking me from my light sleep.

Do we?

CHAPTER8

ISLA

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