“Well, it doesn’t matter. You’re still going to see him tonight. And I’d suggest not talking shit about him in front
of Beck. He’s a die-hard fan.”
“Of course he is.”
Wes’ loud laugh fills the car. “Most of the team is, actually.”
“I still don’t understand why we had to go so early. Aubrey and Finn aren’t going to be there for hours still.”
“That’s because they’re lovebirds now. We’re going because I fully plan on taking advantage of the free booze.”
I cock my head, my expression going deadpan as I stare at him. “I’m guessing I’ll be driving your car later, then?”
“Bingo, sis.”
“We should have just taken mine, then.”
“Absolutely not. That thing needs to find a permanent home in a junkyard.”
“Hey! It’s not that bad. You just don’t understand her.”
“I understand that you’ve had that car since the eleventh grade, and it’s got three hundred thousand kilometres on it. One of these days, it’s going to blow up. It’s a miracle that it hasn’t already.”
“Well, that day hasn’t come yet, has it?”
His right hand releases the steering wheel and pushes over the top of his head. “You’re unbearably stubborn.”
“You’re so sweet this evening, Wes,” I drawl, reaching across the console to yank a piece of his hair.
He hisses before swatting me away and gripping the steering wheel with two hands. I relax into the plump leather seat, smiling smugly.
“I want to ask more about how the company is doing, but I don’t know if I should now,” he admits, changing the subject.
“What do you want to know?”
Please be something that I actually have an answer for.
“Do you have any leads on a studio space? Or are you still okay with running things from the apartment for now?”
“I’m not opposed to a studio space, but unless I want to dump all of my money into rent, I’m going to stay with the apartment. It’s not like I have too many things yet to make it unmanageable.”
“If you need more money?—”
“I don’t. I still have more than enough.” I cough to clear the sudden tightness from my throat. “I’m just trying to be a responsible business owner.”
“Got it. I just wanted to check in on things. If you need me for anything, just ask, Elle. I’m here for you.”
“You’ve done more than enough,” I say, lowering my voice.
He’s done too much, even. From lending me the money for a business that doesn’t even have a proper website or social media presence yet, to being a soundboard for my stupid ideas that never saw the light of day, he’s been the one person I’ve trusted not to judge me. Our parents never understood why I spent so many years of my life in front of a sewing machine or sketching designs that later turned into clothes hidden in a box beneath my bed. I guess they’ve never thought I’d actually do anything with my love and skill for fashion design, and that’s fine. Wes has believed in me enough for both of them.
That’s why being so stalled bothers me as much as it does. Not because I’m letting myself down, but because I’m disappointing him.
“You’re talented, Brielle. Don’t start doubting yourself now. You’ve already made it this far,” he says firmly, pride glowing in the words.
“That means a lot to me.”
More than he’ll ever know.
