Page 59 of Her Ruin

“Of course.”

It felt very much like a lie.

CHAPTER16

ISLA

Sipping my coffee,I checked my emails while telling myself it was just another Monday. A new week. A fresh start.

I didn’t need to think about the gala or Elixir orhimagain. I did my job, my company got the fee for an event well done, and the fact I knew that was probably thelastevent I did for the Shaw Foundation, well, that sucked, but that was the world of event planning. There was always another client out there.

That was what I told myself as I poured myself a travel mug of coffee. It was what I repeated when I got caught in traffic and some idiot in a Mazda beeped at me for no reason whatsoever. It was what I chanted in my head like a mantra as I strode through the lobby of The Grand Gracemont, my focus sharp, my attention firmly fixed on the next task in front of me.

I wasn’t thinking about Elixir.

I wasn’t thinking about Zayn.

I wasn’t thinking about the way he had looked at me or the way his breath skimmed my lips or the fact I had almost let him kiss me.

Again.

No. I was not thinking about any of it. I had work to do. I was quite firmly in reset mode.

As I made my way to the conservatory, it was quite obvious the hotel renovations had fallen behind schedule. Between the delays, the budget overspend, and the constant back-and-forth with suppliers, it was clear I needed to get this project back under control.

I pulled out my tablet as I approached the conservatory, flicking through the latest reports. The ballroom renovation was taking longer than planned. The updated kitchens still weren’t fully operational. And they’d made a mess with the tile in the foyer.

I had a job to do. The gala was done. It was time to move forward.

The conservatory was empty as I entered, and I wondered where Gerard was. I turned around slowly looking for someone, but when I couldn’t see anyone, I let out a slow breath, pressing my fingers into my temples.

Because the truth of it all was simple. I was still pissed.

Not just about Zayn and what he had done—though, trust me, that still burned—but about Julian. Julian who had taken it upon himself to confront Zayn on my behalf.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew he meant well. I knew he thought he was protecting me, standing up for me in a way he believed I couldn’t. But that was the problem. I didn’t needanyoneto fight my battles. I wasn’t some helpless woman caught up in Zayn’s trap. I had handled men like Zayn before—powerful, arrogant, used to getting their own way.

Except…except none of them had ever gotten under my skin like he did.

And that didn’t even sting as much as the argument I had with Julian after he had been to see Zayn and Zayn had led Julian to believe I was ready to hop into bed with him.

The very freaking nerve of the guy.

Turning on my heel, I left the conservatory and headed to the ballroom, where I was sure I would find Pete, the project foreman, if no one else.

“Focus,” I reminded myself as I walked briskly along the corridor. Business first. Always. Be in work mode with no distractions. I was in control.

“Isla!” Gerard greeted me with a warm smile as I entered the ballroom, and Pete looked genuinely happy to see me. Things must be worse than I thought.

“Morning,” I greeted them both, offering a polite but firm smile as I set my tablet down on a table that was half full of empty coffee cups. “Who’s ready to get this project back on track?”

Gerard and Pete exchanged a wary glance, and I hid my smile. They clearly weren’t expecting me to be in charge, but this was how it was going to be.

Pete cleared his throat. “Hi, Isla, nice to see you?—”

“Thanks, Pete,” I said with a firm smile. “Bring me up to speed.”

He looked flummoxed for one moment, and then he sighed. “We, uh, we had a few issues crop up since you left.”

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