Page 27 of Have To Be Mine

I was delaying the inevitable. Annika had been trying to get to the bottom of this top situation, and she would have told me if she’d found the tops since we last spoke. There was nothing and no one that was going to save me. I’d been warned for years something like this would happen. I had always managed to pull off miracles at the last minute but that wasn’t happening today.

And of course, I had a witness to document every minute of my downfall. My life flashed before my eyes. Not my life in the past, but what my future was going to look like. My family would disown me. It wasn’t rhetorical. I had money, but I wouldn’t have them. I wouldn’t get to watch my nephew grow up. There was no doubt in my mind Briggs and Sebastian would be fathers in no time. I’d probably never get to meet future nephews and nieces.

Music suddenly pumped through the sound system we’d set up, a sultrier version of Wicked Games. Fitting. But who the hell thought it was funny to start the show’s playlist when the show itself would never start?

Well, at least I’m not the only person getting fired today.

The media all trained their cameras and phones on the runway, which was a trail of sand that led down to the beach. I needed to tell them this was a false start.

Then the first model stepped out of the tent. I froze, staring at the woman with my mouth hanging open. She was wearing a bikini. With both pieces. There wasn’t a nipple in sight. Thank the blessed bikini gods.

The model strutted toward the shoreline, swaying her hips and looking gorgeous. Three more ladies walked out, all of them covered properly. I didn’t know how it happened, but the missing tops had appeared out of thin air.

I squinted as they walked by, trying to see if maybe Annika and Mary Jo had just painted the tops on the models’ bare skin, but no, that was definite fabric. I was so confused.

The media was moving down to the beach to get the shots of the models doing their thing in the water. I couldn’t have asked for better weather. The lighting was perfect. The slight delay had actually made for a more dramatic background. I could already see the images that would come from the shoot.

But I couldn’t understand how it was happening.

I flagged down the nearest crew member. “What happened? How did we get the pieces?”

He nodded up the beach toward the wardrobe tent. “The woman who came with you,” he said. “She found the missing boxes. They’d been in a storage shed or something. That lady is a little scary, honestly. But she got it done. She saved the show.”

“A lifesaver,” another crew guy echoed, passing with an armload of equipment. “Total lifesaver.”

I watched the shoot happening in front of me and cursed my luck. That was just what I needed. Her ego already rivaled mine. Now the entire crew thought she walked on water. I’d be hearing about this for the next three weeks.

And Adrian? Shit. I didn’t know if I could deal with him gloating. He would be way too happy that I’d proven myself a failure. Someone who shouldn’t be in charge and needed a babysitter.

I scanned the beach for her. She was standing maybe forty feet away, watching the production with her arms crossed and a look on her face that I was starting to recognize as her version of satisfied. Not happy, exactly, but something close to it.

I watched her and tried to reconcile the woman in the loose cargo pants, snug T-shirt, and tight ponytail with the woman in that dress with the beachy waves from the other night.

I thought I liked the dress version, but if I was being honest, the kickass military thing was starting to grow on me.

I stopped that thought and walked over. “What happened?”

She glanced at me. “I went through your email”

“Wait, what? You read my email?”

“Yes, Dash. I read your email and you know what I found?”

“Way too many Amazon orders?”

“Yes, actually, but I’m talking about the unread email letting you know your delivery arrived early and there was no one to accept it, so it was put into a storage shed here at the venue. The bikini tops were here the whole time.”

“Oh, shit.” I probably should have been mad she read my emails, but it wasn’t my diary. I had no secrets in there. It figured she would be some genius hacker. Adrian would only pick the best. “Good job.” I paused, feeling like that wasn’t enough. “Thanks. My hero.”

“You’re a mess,” she said.

I shrugged, trying to seem casual. “I think the correct term would be hot mess, with emphasis on the hot.”

“You need to do better.”

“I know,” I said seriously.

She glanced sideways at me, like she was checking whether I actually meant that or was just saying what the situation required. I let her look.