Page 21 of Have To Be Mine

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” I shot back at her. My gaze moved over her attire. Same cargo pants and another shirt, but this time it was tucked in, really showing off her breasts. Did she know that her outfit actually accentuated her curves?

“You didn’t hire me for my fashion sense,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

“I didn’t hire you at all,” I said. “If you don’t like my attitude, take it up with those chuckleheads.”

I grabbed my wallet and sunglasses and only then remembered my phone. I went back into the room and grabbed it. That’s when I actually took the time to check the missed calls and text messages. Oops. Apparently, they had been calling. I slept right through it.

I stepped back into the hallway.

Krista was standing exactly where I’d left her, glaring at me.

“Ready,” I said.

“About damn time.” She walked to the elevator.

I strolled behind her. “Relax,” I said. “It’ll all work out. Always does.”

She scoffed, sounding borderline disgusted with me.

I stepped into the elevator behind her. “Something to say?” I asked.

“Things only work out for you because of your last name,” she said. “And because other people pick up the slack. I’m not saying that to be cruel. I’m saying it because I need you to understand that today, the last name doesn’t help us. Today, we actually have to find the missing pieces. If they were simply in a box, no one would have wasted their time calling you.”

I put my sunglasses and stared straight ahead, chewing on her words. Was she right?

We strolled through the lobby. Well, I strolled and she marched. The car was waiting as she said. She got in without a word, staring out the window without even acknowledging my presence.

I’d been to enough of these launches to know what chaos looked like. This was chaos on steroids. The second the car pulled up to the waterfront venue, I could see people running across the white sand. Tents flapped in the breeze. Someone was shouting into a walkie-talkie. Another person was on their phone, pacing back and forth near the water’s edge.

The Athens Riviera stretched out before us. The turquoise water and dramatic cliffs were stunning. Under different circumstances, it would’ve been beautiful. Right now, it looked like a disaster zone with a scenic backdrop.

I stepped out of the car and immediately spotted Annika, our lead wardrobe coordinator, speed-walking toward me with an expression that made my stomach drop. Behind her was Mary Jo from hair and makeup, looking equally frantic.

“Dash, thank God,” Annika said. “We have a situation.”

“Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“It’s worse than we thought. It’s not just the tops. We’re missing accessories. The jewelry pieces that were supposed to complement the collection. And three pairs of the custom sandals.”

“And the models are freaking out because half of them don’t know what they’re supposed to be wearing now,” Mary Jo said. “We’ve got photographers setting up, influencers arriving in thirty minutes, and the media is already asking questions.”

I could practically feel the judgment radiating off Krista. I was proving why my family decided I needed help to handle this campaign.

“Where did you last see the missing pieces?” I asked.

“That’s the thing,” Annika said. “They were packed. I personally supervised the packing in New York. They should have been in the shipment that arrived yesterday.”

“Should have been?”

“The customs paperwork shows they cleared. But when we opened the containers this morning, entire boxes were missing.”

A producer I recognized materialized next to us. “Dash, we need a solution. Now.”

Another person, from media relations, rushed over with a tight smile on her face. “Mr. Blackwell, the media is asking when they can start setting up. What do I tell them?”

“Tell them we’re running a little behind schedule.”

“How far behind?”