“Anything else?” I asked with the patience of a saint, hands folded neatly in my lap.
“I want you to really consider this florist you’re pushing. We won’t tolerate another incident like the Berkshire wedding.”
The royal We, as if she were speaking for Caroline and all of Archer.
“Don’t worry,” I assured her. “They’re the best florist in Manhattan, and our brides love the charm of using a shop that grows its own flowers.”
“Bower Bouquets is the best florist in Manhattan. No one had even heard of Longbourne until a few months ago.”
My lips flattened. “Bower is a big-box corporation without the charm of Longbourne. Just today, Madison Wendemere requested a tour of Longbourne’s greenhouses, and if you don’t think she’ll tell her friends, you’ve never exchanged words with her.”
Addison regarded me for a moment. “Just be sure, Lila. It’s your ass.” She turned her attention to her laptop, opening it before beginning to type, effectively dismissing me.
I stood and left without a goodbye, sliding into my seat and opening my own laptop to file away her threat and work through my notifications. Emails first, then my calendar. I went through my following day, making a mental checklist of everything I’d need to get done to match the expanded calendar, adding the Hilton menu to my next visit to Skylight.
Busy, busy, busy I kept myself, surprised when I realized the sky was on fire with dusk.
Swearing to myself, I closed my laptop and packed up my things. It was far enough beyond our normal hours that I owed Addison no explanation, and she didn’t ask, just watched me with those jackal eyes as I left the office.
And almost ran straight into Caroline.
She laughed, an easy sound, and grabbed my arms to stop us both from falling.
“Oh my God,” I breathed, heart pounding, though I smiled in response to her laughter. “I am so sorry.”
“It’s all right. I was actually coming to find you. I just received a call from Iris Berkshire.”
I stepped back, stiffening for the blow.
But she kept smiling. “Don’t look so worried. She called to apologize for Johanna’s behavior last week and mentioned that she’d received a partial refund for the flowers. When she called Longbourne, they said you’d told them of the mistake, so they took care of it. Well done, Lila.”
Relief and pride brought a flush of heat to my cheeks. “Thank you, Caroline.”
“No, it’s me who should be thanking you. We knew Johanna was going to be difficult the second she walked in, and she lived up to her reputation. You handled it beautifully. Keep up the good work,” she said before cupping my elbow and breezing toward her office.
I floated to the elevator, though I felt Addison’s eyes on my back. She’d seen the whole exchange, and like a petty bitch, I hoped it ate her alive not to know what had been said. When I turned in the elevator to face the doors, our gazes snagged for the briefest of moments before getting cut by the closing metal. It was a win—a small one but a win nonetheless. And I needed a win.
Because my next task would be utter bullshit. I only hoped Brock wouldn’t be home when I completed it.
The very last thing I wanted was to go to his apartment. I’d much rather head straight to Perry’s and grab a slice of pizza on my way to my sister’s. I’d lose myself in her life, in her and Dean’s easy conversation, in their company. It was so much easier to be alone if I wasn’t actually alone. But before I was awarded pizza and distractions, I needed to pack a bag. I wanted my own shampoo and my own makeup. I needed clothes and shoes and my book, which was sitting on his coffee table. Funny, how I’d already divorced myself from that place, from my relationship. But finding him in flagrante as I had was the snapping of a cord, immediate and unsalvageable.
Nerves rose with every block the cab rolled through. I should have left earlier to guarantee he wouldn’t be home, and I hoped he had a late night at work. Or maybe he and Natasha were out. Maybe she was there.
God, I hoped she wasn’t there. Though I might have nearly murdered them in the conservatory with a candlestick, I hadn’t said a word. Today, I wouldn’t keep my mouth shut. And the last thing I needed was a complaint from a Felix Femme to Caroline.