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Ooooh! She wrote: Be tied up on her list.
Her skin prickled at the thought. Confident with her new desires, she shoved her notebook in her purse. It was time to get back to real life. She could continue to pursue her fantasies, just not with Dex. Too bad all she could do was think of him. How the fire lit up his green eyes. How he didn’t spare her a single ounce of sympathy. He’d put her in trouble and then pushed her to figure it out herself. She liked that. Because he treated her like she was capable. Until she’d realized that he’d walked her in circles and camped out next to her car.
She’d never been in trouble. Not really.
She couldn’t decide if she was more irritated at him for the trick or irritated that she could still feel his hands on her. His mouth…his grip.
She wouldn’t think of him or last night anymore. Time to move on. Time to be realistic. An adventure like last night couldn’t be sustained. Time to return to her standard, practical life and pursuit of independence.
Last night she’d done the adventurous, spontaneous thing well…
And that was a tempting thought.
Her phone buzzed with a call. She grabbed it and answered.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Michelle. Surprised I caught you. Thought you’d be at work.” Her father’s voice boomed through the other side of the phone, and she pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I was just heading there now, Daddy.”
“Good thing. I’d hate to see this business of yours flounder due to poor staffing.”
She had to breathe extra-long through that last jab. Her father was the king of subtly dropping hints about how he thought she was a failure. Only his subtlety was not so subtle.
“My shop is doing great,” she fibbed.
Not a total lie. But a heavy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
The last few weeks had been slow. And sure, she was getting a little worried. But there was no way she was going to tell her father she was floundering. No, not floundering. She was treading water. Things would pick up. No matter what, she could deal with it, because she was independent. At least, she was trying to be. Running home was not an option.
“Glad to hear, sweetie. You know, you can always come work for me.”
She did know. In fact, her father said those exact words twice a week ever since she’d moved to Beaufort.
“I appreciate that, but I’m doing just great on my own.”
“So, yo
u don’t need any money? Need access to your trust?”
Deep…breath…
She’d moved out here with her savings. Hers. Money she’d worked for and earned. That hadn’t been quite enough to start her shop, so she’d taken a small business loan. Yeah, accepting her family’s money would help bring her business out of the hole. Hell, it was enough money to keep her afloat for years, even if her business didn’t make a dime. But what would that prove? Tapping into her trust would go against everything she was trying to achieve.
She was going to do this on her own or not at all.
“Thank you for the offer, Daddy, but I’m okay for money.” She grabbed her notebook and scribbled quickly, Pay the electric bill today!
“Brad has been asking about you. Coming around. He misses you, sweetie. We all do. I know you might not think this based on how fast you left him, but he’d take you back.”
She rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to go back or be taken back. She wanted to live. On her own. And accomplish something for herself. Yes, she was terrified some mornings, especially since the weight of this whole business venture rested on her skills not only as a businesswoman but as a fashion designer.
“When is this kick you’re on going to end? It’s been months,” her father said.
“This kick I’m on? You mean trying to make something of myself?”
“You did that already. I have the Vassar tuition bills still to prove it.”
