Page 5 of Meant to be Mine

I put my eyes back on the road.

“This thing is enormous, Drew. It’s like a tank trying to move through the city.”

“I had to pick up a few things,” I said. “Normally I drive the Porsche.”

She laughed. “That’s the Drew I remember.”

She had just blown my entire afternoon apart in the best possible way. I couldn’t believe she was in town. Damn. Just wow. Seeing her just made the whole day better.

We were stuck in traffic on Santa Monica Boulevard, brake lights stretching out ahead of us as far as I could see. I kept finding reasons to glance over at her instead of watching the cars that weren’t moving anyway.

She’d cut her hair since I’d last seen her in person. It wasn’t short, just different. I had seen that face every day for so many years, it never occurred to me that one day I might not see her. And then she had moved to the east coast.

“You’ve gone quiet,” she said, catching me looking. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just weird having you actually here instead of on a screen.”

“Good weird or bad weird?”

“Good weird, obviously.” I shrugged. “It’s just I can barely believe you’re here.”

“Surprise,” she said with a chuckle.

The last few months, I’d let our regular calls slide more than I wanted to admit. Having a regular day job really cut into a man’s free time. There was always something. Always some fire that needed putting out right that second, and by the time I had a free minute to breathe, it was too late to call someone three time zones away. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed actually seeing her face until she was standing in the middle of my showroom holding one of her muffins like she’d never left.

Traffic crawled forward another few feet and stopped again. I reached over to the cup holder where I’d set the Tupperware, then popped the lid and pulled out one of the muffins. I took a bite before I could stop myself and moaned again.

“Oh my God,” I said around the mouthful. “These are so good. And you know me well. You know I can’t eat just one, so you brought extra. This is why we’re friends.”

“I made a whole batch. There’s more at my parents’ place.”

I nodded. “Please eat one too, though. I can’t be the only one in the car stuffing my face.”

“Drew, they’re for you.”

I shook the container a little. “Take the muffin.”

She rolled her eyes but grabbed one anyway. There was something satisfying about watching her take a bite.

“See?”

“I made them,” she said with a laugh. “I know they’re good.”

“Scrumptious is what they are.”

“So where are we going, exactly?” she asked. “You said you have a meeting.”

“Beach club out in Malibu. We’re doing the kickoff party for Blackwell Summer there in a couple weeks.” I checked my mirror and changed lanes. “Instead of a normal runway show for the new collection, we’re doing something different. Models just walking around the party in the clothes instead of doing the whole runway thing. Mingling, basically. Letting people see the clothes in the wild. I’ve got to meet with the club’s general manager, walk through some details, make sure everything’s locked in.”

“Wow.” She turned in her seat to look at me, eyebrows up. “Setting up fashion parties. That is a very far cry from the Drew I used to know.”

“Yeah, it’s been an adjustment. But I’m not gonna lie, I like having something to actually build. Feels different than just floating around and checking on my investments here and there.”

“I can tell.” She gestured at me. “Look at you. Mr. Business.”

I glanced down at myself at a red light. “I never cared much about clothes before this. Still don’t, honestly. Give me board shorts and a T-shirt any day. But in this world? Looks are everything. People notice if you show up looking like you just rolled out of bed.”

Kensey grinned. “Drew Blackwell, fashion mogul. Who would have thought?”