ONE MONTH LATER
"Here," I said to Laurence's startled twenty-two-year-old secretary, dropping a bouquet of sunflowers on the reception desk. She stared down at the flowers, completely confused.
"Um... what?" she squeaked, pushing her glasses further up her thin nose to look at the flowers more closely. "Who would..." She cleared her throat and finally found her soothing secretary voice. "Who would you like these delivered to? Mr. Royal?" she asked, deep blue eyes peering up at me curiously from under her dark lashes. She tucked several chocolate brown curly strands behind her ear nervously.
I shook my head, trying not to make any sudden movements. I didn't want to spook her. With my luck, she'd scurry behind the lobby couch if I sneezed funny. "These are for you... from me."
She gingerly picked up the flowers, wide-eyed. "Really?" She smelled them, cheeks brushing against the petals, face brightening slightly. And then she looked up at me with a skeptical expression. "Why?"
"Because I've scared you out of your wits a few times and you were just doing your job." I motioned to them awkwardly. "These are apology flowers." I put on my best attempt at an unscary smile, hoping I wouldn't send her running. Because apparently, I was terrifying.
"Oh..." she said, dumbfounded before smelling the flowers again. "Thanks." She stared down at them, smiling to herself, enjoying the sudden turn of events.
I rubbed the back of my neck, stepping back from her desk slowly. "No problem. I'll try not to spook you in the future." I moved past her desk, heading towards the elevator.
"Wait!" she called after me. "Are you here to see Mr. Royal?"
I turned back. "Yep... Do you want a ten-second head start to call ahead or something?"
She stood up, placing her hands on the countertop, a serious expression furrowing her brow. "No... I..." She sucked in a breath, cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. "I want you to be good to Mr. Royal."
I would have laughed at her demand if she hadn't looked utterly serious. Looking away, she tugged at a loose strand of curly hair. "He's been through a lot and deserves someone kind— I mean he deserves kindness in general."
I walked back to her desk, watching her itch to shrink away from me as I analyzed her. But she held her ground, which was very impressive, considering how easily startled she normally was. "You care about him a lot."
Her face turned a shade redder before she stammered in quick succession, panicked. "NO! I mean... professionally, yes. He's a good boss and a good person. And he always smells nice— No! Oh gosh... Just the boss part. No smelling part."
I laughed. "It's okay. It was just an observation. And you are right, he is a good person." I turned back to the elevator. "We aren't dating by the way. Want me to put in a good word for you?" I shot her a mischievous grin over my shoulder as I walked into the elevator. "Speak now or forever hold your peace!"
She dropped back into her chair, suddenly very busy organizing her pencils. "No thanks! Um... Carry on. I hope you have a good meeting. DON'T SAY ANYTHING!"
I laughed as the elevator doors closed behind me, echoes of her panicked protests cut off. "She's too easy to mess with... I like her."
I found Laurence sitting behind his desk, looking utterly exhausted. The storm clouds rolling across the Los Angeles skyline did little to cast his office in welcoming light. Instead, it matched the mood that he was in, sending the space into long, dark shadows as rain streamed down the windows.
His eyes scanned countless documents, hair a mess of tangles. "Do I dare ask why my secretary just called me, begging me not to listen to any... good word you try to put in for anyone?" Laurence asked.
I snorted. "Nope. Was just trying to make friends with your secretary. It may take her a while to warm up to me."
Laurence stood up, pushing a large stack of papers to the side, revealing his wrinkled suit jacket and an untucked button-down shirt. "I appreciate your optimism, but I don't think Royal Fashion will be here for the long haul." He walked around the desk, sitting down on the edge, running his hands down his face. "Things have been messy."
I dropped into one of his guest leather chairs, taking in the bags under his eyes. Royal Fashion had become a disaster. I had tried to keep the fact that Carter Royal and the others had stolen my designs from the press, but Carter took one last shot at cruelty, assuring that everything his brother worked for would go down with him.
Now Laurence Royal had been branded a fashion stealer and when the integrity of a creative was questioned, it was far easier for people to assume the worst than to take five minutes, read an actual article, and conclude that he just had a crappy brother.
I had watched Laurence struggle to right the sinking ship of his company for the last month, to no avail. Not even when I had agreed to do a clothing line in partnership with Royal Fashion. A rival line, to go against the soft, yet sexy couple outfits I had released with Tate as the model. But it wasn't going to be finished fast enough. By the time the new clothes were done, there would be no Royal Fashion to partner with.
Winters on the other hand, was booming, thriving to terrifying heights. And the amount of paperwork it involved threatened to bury me. There were so many things to consider. So many opportunities to look into, that the entire idea of growing Winters was exhausting. I wasn't liked online and was constantly told that Tate deserved someone better. But I no longer cared what was said. Their opinion didn't matter. Where I was loathed, my clothes were adored, proving once again that the internet was a weird place.
The entire ordeal made it hard to look at Laurence. When this all began, I had promised to bury him and his company into the ground. But that was before I knew who he was, and now I just wanted my friend to survive.
"I'm sorry, Royal."
He sighed, looking defeated. "It's fine... well, it's not. Not in the slightest, but... I'll have to learn to live with that."
I leaned back, crossing my arms. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Do you like your job?"
Laurence blinked. "What do you mean?"
"You don't strike me as someone who... enjoys this line of work."
He gave a hollow laugh. "Is it the lack of detail I give to clothes or the fact that my business is dying that gives you that impression?"
"The detail part. But that wasn't an answer."
"Why are you asking me this? What point are you trying to make?" he asked, voice taking on an irritated edge. He was too tired to play nice today.
"My point is that I would like to hire you," I said, causing his head to jerk up in surprise.
"What?" He searched my face. "You're serious?"
I adjusted my shirt sleeve. "Not hire actually. I would like to purchase Royal Fashion, you working here would be included in that deal."
He started laughing. "Okay, now I know you are joking. Why would you want to buy a sinking ship? Or work with me?" His eyes looked slightly wild, a man near the edge of his sanity. His world had been tilted, sent out of control, and the look on his face was one I recognized too well. I had been there several times myself. And leaving him alone to his own devices would only make things worse.
"Because you are a good businessman. You built an empire!" I said gesturing to the room. "And even though it is painful for me to admit..." I swallowed. "I would have had to sell Winters to you if things had gone differently. You know how to make things blossom. You have the manpower to make more products for more people. And I want to keep your employees on, including Michale, who I have missed and want back."
I thought of Laurence's secretary. The girl who had taken on the Unhinged Fashionista to make sure her boss— a guy she clearly had a mad crush on, was taken care of. "I trust you. And I want to work with good people that I can trust."
He stood up and paced the room. "What would you even want me to do?"
I smiled, enjoying how utterly baffled he looked. "I have an eye for fashion and detail, but I hate talking to people."
It was something I was working on, but it would never be my strength, and that was okay. "I struggle with making new connections, or small talk in general. It's one of the reasons why I have so much turnover at Winters. I checked with your employees. They love you and they love working here. I need someone to balance me out. To think like a businessman. And not like..."
I waved my hand, trying to think of the right words. "A mad scientist who would rather create in a dark, secluded space than be caught dead working on spreadsheets or talking to people. Basically, a non me."
I smiled to myself. The parts of my job that I hated were all the things Laurence would thrive at. He was good with people, took direction well, and knew how to lead. And the most important aspect was his lack of fear when it came to dealing with me. He was used to my brashness and always encouraged me to make positive decisions, like choosing civility over bar fights. Psh.
I paused, looking back at him. "Royal Fashion and Winters would live under the same fashion umbrella company. I would be in charge of the creative aspects and you would take over running the financial side. You'd make sure we had good relationships with stores, keep track of our sales and numbers. Basically, I would like for you to be my CFO, if you are down for it."
Laurence stared back at me, eyes wide like he was staring at a hallucination, fighting a flicker of hope he didn't want to believe in, even as he tried the job title on for size. "If this is some sort of joke..."
"It's not." I pointed to my face. "This is my serious face."
He crossed his arms. "That is your normal face Ms. W— Allie."
I smiled widely. "This face better?"
He stared at me, face unreadable. But I could see that this was not the conversation he had expected to have. Apparently, he was still unaccustomed to my smile. To me being nice at all. To having me as a potential friend instead of rival. Not that I blamed him.
I held out a piece of paper. "You don't have to sign anything right now. But this is how much you would make on the deal."
He didn't grab the piece of paper immediately, still stuck on the idea of us working together. Then he snatched it and looked down at the numbers, laughing. "Even on my worse day, this is insulting."
I shrugged, pretending that my sudden cash flow wasn't the strangest thing in the world. It would take some getting used to. And I wanted to take that money and expand it into something more. "I am only buying a stake in your company. You'd still own half of it. You haven't hit your worst day yet, and you don't have to. As you said to me when you first tried to buy Winters. This is business. And Carter has made things complicated for your business." I paused, hating how the name of his brother made him wince, a physical pain he couldn't shake yet.
"Sell half of Royal Fashion to me, and we can stop it from crashing. And I suggest we do a bit of rebranding when we start working together."
"If we start working together," he corrected instantly. But a spark of curiosity caught in his eyes as sat back down on the edge of his desk. "What did you have in mind?"
I stretched my arms out behind my head, cocking a grin. "We change the name."
"To what? Not A Stealing Place Incorporated?"
"I mean, nice attempt, but no. I was thinking something more along the lines of... Royal Winters. We'd be partners in business, and the name will make it clear where I stand, no matter what the tabloids say."
He nodded, thinking. "And what is to stop me from just changing my companies name and keeping it all to myself?"
I laughed. "I would have been offended if you hadn't asked or thought about it." I leaned forward, offering him a dangerous grin. "And if you want to go to battle with me again, go for it. But I'll knock you down a peg one of these days Royal, and I'd rather you be on my team instead of against. I think we'd both get much farther that way."
I reached into my bag and pulled out a small box. "You don't have to answer now, but either way, this is for you."
He gingerly opened the box and fought a smile. "I don't know why I am even surprised by this so-called gift."
"Think of it as company uniform," I said with an easy wave of my hand, trying not to laugh.
Laurence pulled out the bundle of black socks, shaking his head. "Am I ever going to live this down?"
I laughed. "No. Never. I figured you'd need a few extra pairs. Oh! And there's a silver tie clip in the box too. Please wear that one the next time you insist on a tie clip with that suit. We are running a fashion company you know."
"Deal."
I raised a brow. "To what part?"
He held out his hand, a large grin encompassing his face. "To all of it. I'm in, Allie Winters, CEO of Royal Winters." He took me in, a thoughtful look on his face, assessing the title. "It has a nice ring to it."
I smiled as I took his hand, excitement surging through me. "Great! I can't wait to get started, Laurence Royal, CFO of Royal Winters."
Turning, I plucked up my purse and walked back towards the elevator. "I'll send over the paperwork later today."
As I stepped into the elevator, I heard him call after me. "Hey, Allie?" Laurence shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes filled with gratitude. "Thanks."
I shot him a warning smile. "Don't thank me yet. I've been told I am very hard to work with."
He laughed, seeming to relax. "I don't doubt that for a second."
I smiled wider. "Merry Christmas, Royal."
"Merry Christmas, Allie."
Walking back into the lobby, I made sure to make my presence known before passing the secretaries desk, no longer wishing to inspire squeaks of terror. "Take good care of that boss of yours," I said shooting her a wave.
"It's not like that!" she shouted after me, voice echoing across the marble lobby, face blooming red again. "What did you say?!?"
Stepping out into the rain, umbrella popping to life above my head, I laughed as the doors closed behind me. Dark storm clouds gave everything a dark hue, matching the crisp winter air.
But even with the cracked, worn-down sidewalks that were already slick with rain, leaving miniature rivers of water across the cement, and the Goddess of Poor City Planning demanding car sacrifices in the streets turned rivers, nothing could ruin my excitement for the next chapter.
Spotting a set of puddles, I chucked off my shoes and jumped into the nearest one, enjoying the cool water soaking up my jeans and leaving me elated. I have missed this.
My time in the puddle was quickly interrupted by a friendly car honk. Tate rolled down the passenger window of his car, brown strands falling into his face as he peeked up at me, green eyes warm, the sound of Watermelon Sugar by Harry Styles blasting out into the street from his car.
He laughed as he drank me in, baritone voice filling the air with its bright, warm sound, washing over me like a caramel macchiato. My own personal favorite drink of heaven in handsome man form. "You gonna dance around in puddles all day, or are you gonna give your boyfriend the honor of this ride?"
My heart fluttered at the use of the word boyfriend, making my smile all the brighter. It sounded too good coming out of his mouth and I wanted him to say it again.
We had gone from a person who hit a convertible guy's car with fire hydrant water to a fashionista and her driver who wouldn't stop singing, to a girl who was too scared to admit she wanted said handsome driver against her own wishes, to what we were now. A girl and the sunshine boy she was head over heels for.
Plucking up my shoes, I looked back at the puddle, smiling. Puddles didn't have to be part of a life I had left behind. Not when had room for so many good things if I was just brave enough to seize them. And this time around, I was ready to tackle life with everything I had.
THE END
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