Page 39 of Have To Be Mine

And that was a sentence I had never expected to think about Dash.

13

DASH

I’d been watching her talk for the better part of an hour, and I was starting to realize something unsettling: when she was off the clock, Krista Hedley was enchanting.

The rigid military posture had melted away. Her shoulders were relaxed. She didn’t look like she was standing at attention. Or sitting. The frown that seemed permanently etched between her eyebrows had disappeared entirely. And when she smiled, the real one, dimples appeared in her cheeks that I’d never noticed before.

Dimples. The woman had dimples.

Her full lips were all natural. No gloss or lipstick to make them look plump. The wine had brought color to her cheeks, a rosy flush that made her look younger, softer. And her hair, freed from that severe ponytail, curled around her face in a way that was genuinely charming. Those beachy waves I thought were the work of a hairdresser were natural. Everything about the woman was so damn real. I lived and breathed in the world of fashion. It was all smoke and mirrors. I almost forgot there were real people in the world.

Krista was telling me about her mother’s garden, her hands gesturing animatedly as she spoke. The Krista I knew kept her hands to herself, controlled and contained.

She reached for the wine bottle and refilled her glass. Her third? Fourth? I’d lost count. Part of me knew I should probably slow her down, but the other part was glad she was finally relaxing. The girl needed to chill out. She walked around the world like a razor blade, sharp and mean and tough, cutting through everything in her path.

But up here? On this balcony in Corfu with the sea stretching out before us and the stars beginning to appear overhead? She was radiant.

“Thank you,” she said suddenly, setting her glass down and looking at me with those dark eyes that seemed softer now.

“For what?”

“For letting me talk about her. My mom. I don’t do that often enough. Dad and I, we sort of… we don’t bring her up much. It’s too sad.” She took another sip of wine, then laughed. “You know what’s funny? My mom would be over the moon right now. Knowing her daughter was having dinner on a private balcony in Corfu with a man.”

I laughed. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. She was always worried I’d end up alone. Too tough, too independent. She used to tell me that being strong didn’t mean I had to be hard.” Krista’s smile turned wistful. “She’d love this. The view, the wine, the company—even if the company is an ass.”

I shrugged and chuckled. “I deserve that.”

“You do,” she agreed, but there was no venom in it. Just honesty.

I leaned back in my chair. I liked this version of her. She was human after all.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’ve had a few missteps recently I’m not proud of. But I still think Adrian overreacted by hiring you. No offense at all. You’re clearly good at what you do.”

“None taken.” She tilted her head, genuinely curious. “Look, you’re capable when you want to be. I’ve seen you work. When you actually focus, you’re good at this. But, for the love of God, you have to check your emails. You have to answer your phone.”

I opened my mouth to give her some flippant response. But something about the way she was looking at me stopped me.

“That’s the part of the job I can’t stand,” I said. “All the admin. The constant questions and messages and interruptions. I need a person to organize all that for me. My assistant, Angela, always kept me on track, but now that she’s gone, I’ve missed a few things.”

“At the risk of stating the obvious, why don’t you hire a new assistant?” Krista asked.

I shrugged and picked up my wine. “Like I said, I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

“But you have a whole company,” she said, eyeing me curiously. “Just have HR do it. You wouldn’t need to be involved at all, if you so choose. Just have her replaced.”

“There’s no replacing her,” I said a little more forcefully than I intended.

Krista’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you and Angela… like, a thing?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Absolutely not. Her husband and three kids would have had some opinions about that.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, an adorable, embarrassed smile on her lips. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“No need to apologize,” I said, waving her comment away and leaning back in my chair. “She was just great at her job. That’s why she was a shoo-in for the promotion. But I just can’t imagine anyone slotting into her role the way she did. We were a great team.”