Page 136 of Beauty
I frown. “Does Beckett know that?”
“No. And you won’t tell him.” She lifts her head. “None of it matters anymore anyway. Garreth hired a private investigator, and not only did he find the money, but he got the designers to agree to rescind the settlement agreement.” Her eyes fill with tears. “I can design again. I can do whatever I want, really.”
Distrust trickles through me. The likelihood of finding that money is nearly nonexistent. He probably paid off the other side and, in return, demanded they release Sienna from the settlement.
Though I’ll keep that theory to myself. There’s no harm in Sienna believing his story, and I have no proof that it isn’t true.
And all that matters now is that she’s finally free to do what she wants. The comfort that thought brings is followed closely by a realization that makes my heart stop in my chest. “Does that mean you’re going back to Paris?”
“I don’t know what any of it means, really. My friend Cat offered me a position atJolieMagazine tonight. A really big one. I don’t know. Tonight was a lot,” she says, her voice fading.
“Sounds like you have a lot of decisions to make.”
She hums sleepily, her eyes fluttering closed.
I press a kiss to her temple. Regardless of what she decides, I’ll support her. But the idea of her moving back to Paris is like a lead weight in my gut. I just got her back. I don’t know that I can let her go again.
But between Ollie and my career, if she decides to leave, what choice will I have?
FORTY-THREE
SIENNA
Cat: The fabric just arrived. Oh my god, you are going to be obsessed.
Me: Ah! I can’t wait to get my hands on it. Do the tailors have all the measurements?
Cat: Yes, I confirmed this morning. Stop by at lunchtime. I’ll make sure they have everything set aside for you.
Me: You are the best.
Cat: Don’t I know it. So what are the chances of me being your boss in the not-so-distant future?
Me: LOL. It’s been less than twenty-four hours. I asked for time.
Cat: I know, but you can’t blame a girl for being excited.
I’m excited too.There’s no denying it. About her job offer. About Noah. About the status of the settlement. After months and months of hell, things are looking up.
The thought of setting my hands on silk again, of turning a piece of cloth into a piece of art for someone I care about to wear, sets my blood on fire. My fingers can’t stop twitching. All I want to do is get ahold of that fabric and start sewing and cutting andcreating.
I just have to hold out for two more hours.
Knee bouncing with pent-up excitement, I turn back to my computer screen and click on the email from our head of marketing regarding the bedazzled jerseys I suggested. Then I respond to the one from Beckett about family dinner. There are also five emails Gavin forwarded with information about the next series of games that I have to review and one from Ezra that details the new players he’s interested in drafting.
The number of players he’s researched is a little alarming. It’s like his goal is to build a new roster. With the already incredible team we have—a team headed for the finals, in fact—it’s absurd, really.
The last email he sent focused on the high cost of keeping our first line versus drafting a new one. Is the man insane? War—the team’s captain—my brother, and Noah make up the first line. Does he really think I have any interest in removing even one of them from the roster?
Noah’s agent may be demanding a contract that would make him the highest-paid winger in the NHL, but based on his stats, it’s worth considering.
Yes, his age is working against him, but the idea of him leaving Boston is unconscionable.
So I have to convince Ezra that keeping him is our best option. And I have to convince my brothers that he’s worth the investment. And I have to do it without alerting anyone to mymotives. Because they aren’t the least bit professional. I can’t risk losing him again. Not when I just got him back.
My cursor is hovering over Ezra’s email when a knock sounds at my door and I find Garreth standing at the threshold.
Like always, he looks dashing in an expensive suit.
