Page 68

“Mel?” She looked up. He should ask her directly whether it was something more than work upsetting her. But he couldn’t quite get it out. Because he didn’t want to hear confirmation that it was him, that his dad was right.

She was tired—that was all. They’d had a great break, and now reality of January and work was hitting both of them. He was certainly dreading facing the office again, so why couldn’t she be too?

Mel was watching him. “Finn? You okay?”

“Sorry.” He pulled a hand through his hair, then shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, parroting her. “It’s nothing.”

Chapter Twenty-four

Finn insists they stop in the nearest town to buy celebratory fizz. Mel lets him drive, lets him talk, congratulating her, telling her he knew it, that his family is going to be so excited. All the while, her head is pounding while she thinks.

She gets a text from Amanda as darkness sets in around the car.

You did it!!! Congratulations! So does this mean you’re back heading up the design team too?? What Lillian Hart wants, Lillian Hart gets, right? What does this mean for the Jan interviews—should I cancel them?

Mel stares at the message for a moment. What does it mean? She has no idea. She hasn’t replied to the agent yet—which she figures she will get away with, given it is Christmas Eve. Which prompts the reply she sends Amanda.

You should switch your email off, is what you should do. It’s Christmas Eve!! Go drink mulled wine or eat a mince pie. We will talk about this on the 2nd, not before. Xxx

She wishes she could tell her brain to stop thinking about it until then too. Instead, all she’s doing is going around in loops. On the surface of it, this is just three pieces a year—she could surely fit that into her schedule, on top of the meetings, managing the advertising, taking journalists out for lunch, checking the accounts, managing her team—and the million other things that she does. But, even as she thinks it, she knows it’s not as simple as that. It won’t just be three designs—it’ll be a portfolio to discuss with Lillian, to develop and tweak, to find the right materials, to actually make. And that’s if she only wants three. If it goes well, the social-media posts could lead to more pieces being needed, and there’s a chance, isn’t there, that this will lead to further brand partnerships, that celebrity friends of Lillian’s might want Mel to design their jewelry too. Her heart skips—part excitement, part utter terror—at that thought.

Then there’s the spin-off designs. Because even if Lillian wants bespoke pieces—which of course she bloody does—Mel will be able to create jewelry that mimics those for general sale. And all of this is definitely not doable while she also tries to run the business.

“Mel?”

She looks over at Finn. He has definitely been talking to her. He smiles a little. “Thinking about your business?”

She blows out a breath. “Yeah.”

He shoots her a look. “My Mel-reading skills may be a little off, but you don’t actually sound that thrilled.”

“No, I am.” She bites her lip. “I mean, I think I am. It’s just…complicated.” Out of the window, moonlight illuminates snow-capped hills against a dark sky. “Finn? Can you pull over a sec?”

His brow furrows, but he does as she asks, pulling over on the side of the deserted road, leaving the headlights on, but switching the engine off so that quiet descends around them. Mel opens the door, steps out into the cold, and takes a breath. This is what she needs. She just needs to breathe, for a second.

She looks up. The stars are unbelievable here—you never get this in London. She hears Finn close the car door and come to stand behind her, though he doesn’t speak.

“God,” she murmurs. “This is glorious.” She wraps her arms around herself, pulling her coat tight to her, but doesn’t move to get back in the car. She can feel Finn’s gaze on her and shifts slightly to meet it. The way he is looking at her makes her feel just a tiny bit self-conscious.

“What?” she asks.

He smiles. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” She wants to shove at him, to tell him to stop it, but with the way he’s looking at her she can’t quite make herself. Instead, she lets herself meet those eyes, moonlight reflected in them.

His gaze searches her face, as if he’s looking for something more than she has right now. “You said if Lillian Hart came on board, you’d be happy.”

She nods. “I am happy.” She is. Isn’t she? She definitely should be. And she can’t deny that the idea of creating something bespoke sends a thrill of excitement through her, the way she used to feel, back before everything exploded.

“Okay. Good.”

She narrows her eyes. “Why do you sound like it’s not good?”

“I don’t.”

“You do. Do you not want me to be happy?”

He lets out an impatient huff. “Of course I do, Mel. That’s the whole point. It means I was right, doesn’t it?”

She frowns. “Right? Right about…” Something sharp stabs through her. “Wait, are you talking about breaking up with me?”