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Aw, how cute. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
“All right. But if you change your mind, let me know. I mean it, the offer will continue to stand.”
His lips twitched into a wider and more genuine smile. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
I’d just finished typing up tomorrow’s to-do list when Sabrina poked her head into my office. “I’m leaving now,” she told me. “I just wanted to first let you know that Mr. Rickman is still giving me excuses about his outstanding payments.”
A sigh of annoyance slipped out of me. “You finally managed to get him on the phone? Kudos.” We’d invoiced him three weeks ago, but he was still dicking around. “What reason did he give for having not coughed up the cash, even though it’s nowmid-October?”
“The gist of the conversation was … it’s all a big mix-up—and no, he didn’t elaborate on what exactly that meant, despite that it didn’t actually explain anything—but it would be great if we could just go ahead with the event anyway and he’d pay us at a later date.”
On occasion, clients would try convincing us to allow them to pay off the full amountafterthe event. If there were extenuating circumstances, we agreed. But not always, because there were times said clients would keep on delaying it in the hope that we dropped it. Then we had to take legal action, and that was both costly and messy. “What did you say?”
“I told him that would only happen if he could get you to agree to it, so he’d need to call you directly because I wouldn’t be passing on that message for him. He made a few mutterings and then eventually promised he’d settle the payments by the end of tomorrow.” Her mouth curved. “You scare him.”
I let out a delicate snort. “I don’t know why. I’m a delight.”
“You are. You’re also a take-no-shit person, which means you scare people like him who like totoss outshit. They know they can’t manipulate you. Plus, you’re Dax Mercier’s wife now. That bumps up the fear factor.”
“Hmm, well, if he pays tomorrow, great. If not, we’ll be pulling out of the event.” Yawning, I rubbed at the back of my neck. “Any other issues?”
“Nope.”
“Good. I need to unplug.” I’dhadway too much screen time today, and I was feeling the sting of it. Literally. My eyes were dry and stinging like a bitch. “I could really do with a nap.” And some eye drops.
Sabrina’s brow pinched. “Do you have time to take one before you meet Dax’s family at the restaurant?”
“No, but I’ll be fine.” To celebrate the birthday of his godmother, Sarah, Kensey had organized a celebratory meal. As Dax’s wife, I was invited.
“Well, enjoy your dinner,” said Sabrina. “And wear the little black dress you bought when we went shopping last weekend.”
“That’s my plan.” Unless Dax requested that I allow him to choose my outfit for the evening, though I doubted he would.
He’d done it twice more since the morning Lowe had appeared at our villa. And I’d noticed a pattern. It only happened on non-work days, and only if we would be spending pretty much the entire day apart. Which didn’t clue me in as to Dax’s motivation. And neither did he, knowing his evasiveness frustrated me.
Sabrina flashed me a farewell smile. “See you tomorrow, bright and early.”
I waved. “Tomorrow.” Turning back to my laptop, I quickly skimmed through my emails, ensured there was nothing time-sensitive, and then made a mental note to respond to them tomorrow before switching off the device.
As I gathered all my stuff together, I reminded myself to wrap Sarah’s gifts when I got home. I’d meant to do it last night but had forgotten.
A month ago, I would have predicted there’d be a weird vibe at the restaurant table, given Blake had reservations about my marriage to Dax. But for the past few weeks, Blake had behaved differently toward me. He spoke to me with genuine warmth.
I wasn’t sure why, or if it was caused by anything in particular. But his politeness wasn’t forced, and his queries about my life weren’t mere attempts at civility. Maybe he’d decided to simply make his peace with the situation. Or maybe it was somehow connected to my having given Dax a false alibi—I had no clue; wasn’t sure Blake even knew about that.
I couldn’t say that my own father had let his reservations drop. However, he’d been less frosty toward Dax on the past few occasions they’d been in the same room. Dane was still a little standoffish, but nowhere near as rude. I was glad of it, because my protectiveness toward Dax had grown.
There had been a subtleshiftin our dynamics. A lessening of self-protective tension on his part. As if he—or his subconscious, maybe—no longer viewed me as a threat so wasn’t braced for rejection or betrayal. There was an ease between us now that hadn’t been there before.
Oh, Dax was still as guarded as ever. That would never change—the trait was woven into the fabric of his personality. But I didn’t feel that there was an abyss between us nowadays. More like a moat.
A moat was fine. I might never cross it, might never be someone he cared for, might never bypass his mental barriers, but I didn’t need him to expose so much of himself to me. I just wanted us to be friends. That was exactly what we were.
We still didn’t venture out together unless it was a group event, like to one of Drey’s games or a family meal. But our conversations didn’t feel in any way forced. Our interest in each other’s routine and goings-on was real.
