Page 6 of Between Love and Loathing
And arguing over pink seating was ridiculous.
So, I’d put off the texts and approving the designs until the very last moment. We were opening the resort in a mere three months. But yesterday with Rita, it seemed Clara hadn’t budged. She’d emailed her saying she was continuing with her design against Rita’s recommendations.
So, I intercepted her in the lobby where she was supposed to meet Rita that day. “Ms. Milton,” I grumbled out as she spun in a circle looking up at the crystal chandelier we’d made sure expanded across most of the lobby. With soaring cathedral ceilings, it presented quite a sight. That’s what my whole resort was supposed to do.
She stood there, a goddamn beacon of color in my white-marbled lobby. Her thick dark-red hair was curled immaculately around her face, falling down her shoulders and stopping right at her curves.
Clara Milton was lethally beautiful. No doubt about it. Stunning with high cheekbones, smooth skin, and big green eyes, she appeared out of place and vulnerable without anyone by her side.
She didn’t live in or understand the real world. But she was going to learn to live and fight for what she wanted in mine or she wasn’t going to survive. That I would make sure of.
“Mr. Hardy?” Her voice was full of surprise as she stumbled over her words, but then she smiled at me, her eyes twinkling with what seemed to be hope. “Mr. Hardy. You came.”
That hope was going to have to be squashed. This was simply a quick business meeting. “Rita called, Ms. Milton.” I glanced at my watch.
“Oh.” She frowned, her smile wobbling. “Well, that was nice of her to tell you when I’d arrive.”
“I’m not here to welcome you to town.” And there went her smile. Good. “I’m here because Rita informed me of your pushback.”
“Right.” She hesitated, then her fingers threaded together in front of her bright-green dress. “I thought she might,” she admitted, but there was no remorse in her tone. Just that familiar rasp that I’d hated over the years, something about the way she let the words whisper out of her mouth made her sound dark and sinful but vulnerable all at the same time.
“I only have a minute, and then I’m sure she’ll be here to discuss further with you, but I spoke with Mrs. Johnson, and she is aware of your unreasonable requests.”
“Unreasonable?” Her eyebrow lifted like she was affronted.
“Yes. They’re ludicrous, but besides that, Mrs. Johnson reiterated that in order to be in compliance with the will’s requirements, we need to secure final approval from you for the design changes.” I winced because it pained me to say it. Mrs. Johnson was taking her position as executor of the will much too seriously.
I was under her thumb and under Clara’s, too, it seemed. The woman picked at the fabric on her dress that looked like a palm tree leaf and avoided my gaze for a second. So, I took her in. I’d known her for years, but only in passing, and I didn’t mingle with women in high society anymore. It had proved to be toxic with a woman I thought I’d loved.
A mind can play tricks on you when you’re distracted by bright colors, pretty eyes, and red lips. And Clara had checked all those boxes.
“You need to reconsider the backsplash above the sink.” It was a small part of the bakery, true, but no detail was too miniscule.
“Like I told Rita, the soft pearl-pink color scheme will be an excellent accent there.”
“We’re not accenting color anywhere in the resort,” I ground out. It’s like she couldn’t understand that putting a girly, Technicolor Barbie in the middle of my perfect, classic black-and-white film didn’t work. There wasn’t a place for her whatsoever. “The backsplash can be a checkered pattern of grays if you want something a little different but we need to stay on theme.”
I heard her sigh, and then I saw how her chin actually quivered before she straightened and whispered, “Don’t you think I should get one thing?”
Jesus, another request. And I wasn’t a giver. Not anymore. Even when a woman with doe eyes the color of emeralds appeared to be about to cry.
I took, I executed, and I didn’t look back. That’s how empires were built. That’s also how people got ahead while others were left behind. I knew that because I’d been left behind before.
Maybe that was Clara’s problem. She needed more of a spine. “You’re getting a bakery in a resort that’s sure to be in every magazine in the country. Isn’t that enough?”
She hadn’t even sent me a real blueprint the first time I’d asked. I’d have fired her then if she’d actually been on my team.
“You know I’m going to have to be here after we’re done designing it, right? You’re aware that people will actually be walking aroundyourresort wearing freaking color, right, Dominic? The place can’t be pristine and untouchable forever.”
I cracked my knuckles at the thought and paced away from her before I paced back. “I’m aware.”
“So can you imagine that some people might evenlikecolor?” She mocked me by having her eyes bulge in feigned surprise.
She was trying to irritate me, and most people here didn’t do that. They listened because I’d earned their respect. “What’s your point?”
“There should be color somewhere. And I’m going to bring that here. If not in my bakery, I’ll be wearing it.” She spun in front of me.Could I enforce a dress code?“I’m going to wear what I want.” She narrowed her eyes like she was reading my goddamn mind. “Also, my macarons are a favorite in Florida and—”
“Do you want a checkered backsplash or just white tile?”
