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“Wait, I don’t understand. How would he have found your sketchbook? Are you suggesting he rooted through your belongings backstage at a show or during a fitting?”
I saw him look away in embarrassment. Ah.
“You slept with him,” I said gently.
“Yes.” The young man’s expression was unreadable, so I didn’t press the issue, though I was definitely curious whether it had been a one-time thing or if he’d been in a relationship with the temperamental older designer.
“So, what is it that you want to do?”
“I want to show the world I’m better than he is,” he said stubbornly. “I want him to turn up at fashion week next year with nothing while I show up with magic.”
“Laird…” I began. “You’re worth way more on the runway and in front of the camera right now than you could make as a new designer, and breaking out as a designer will be really tough, despite your success in the industry. It’s like an actor being typecast—”
I met his eyes then, and saw in them a kind of desperate longing mixed with profound disappointment. Disappointment in me?
“You’re saying my face can make more money than my talent,” he said softly. “That I should stick to what I’m good at. Being a pretty face.”
“Well…”
His face fell and my heart broke at the vulnerability written into his expression. He began rubbing his fingernail along the armrest of the guest chair.
I stopped for a moment, thinking of Ash. Thinking about how little he’d believed in his own talent. What if there’d been someone suggesting he stay working at the coffee shop instead of following his dreams as a musician? I wouldn’t have been going to hear him play in front of thousands of people that very night.
“Okay, Laird. What do you need from me? Tell me how to help make this happen for you.”
He let out a breath and grinned. “Really?” he whispered. It made me wonder how many people were in his corner. Yeah, like most models, he was surrounded with an entourage of people and fans shadowed him wherever he went, but the fact that he was coming to me, of all people, had me thinking that his corner was actually pretty empty.
“Really,” I responded. “What do you need?”
I was reminded of how young he truly was, despite how long he’d been in the industry, because he sat forward in the chair and rubbed his hands together. “Time. And I need you to keep the media off my back while I hide away somewhere and get this collection put together.”
I knew he had tons of money, so that part seemed pretty easy. “You going to hole up on a private island somewhere? One with a good spa?”
His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. “No. I was thinking something more solitary than that. Somewhere there won’t be media around and I can truly be by myself. Someplace inspiring— freeing. You know of a place?”
I spared a glance at the clock on my desk. As much as I wanted to give Laird more time, I just didn’t have enough of it, since I couldn’t risk being even a minute late when Ash met with his donor family for the first time. After the meeting, he was playing a fundraiser concert he’d helped put together, and all of our friends and family were going to be there.
“Come to the Donate Life America benefit concert tonight and let me introduce you to my friend, Xander. He has a cabin for rent in a small Colorado mountain town that might be just what you’re looking for. Certainly no chance of the media finding you there,” I said, thinking of how sleepy Haven was.
I stood up and handed him a card with my cell number on it. “Text me after the concert and we can meet up, okay? Sorry, I have to go now. I think what you’re planning is exciting, Laird. And I’ll be happy to help any way I can.”
He looked at me with a sweet smile of appreciation. “Really? Thank you, Aiden. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“You’re welcome,” I said as I walked with him out of the office.
As we passed Tomás’ desk, my assistant stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Wait. Don’t forget this,” he said with a wink as he handed me the small red gift bag. Damn, I would have been pissed if I’d forgotten it.
I grinned at him. “Remind me to give you a raise. Thank you.”
By the time I raced home, changed, and met Ash in the empty lobby of the concert venue, I only had five minutes to spare before the arrival of Robert Caldwell, the father of Ash’s heart donor.
After my experience making amends with my father, Ash had been inspired to reach out to his donor family and had arranged to have the father, Robert, and his sons come watch the fundraiser. He hadn’t told the family what the concert was for, or that the donation being made to the organ sharing foundation would be done in Annie Caldwell’s name.
