“Excellent. Send one dress to Ms. Tessa Logan. I’ll find her work address and text it to you. I’ll pick up the other. Then bill me, of course.”
“You got it, Mr. Black,” Miguel says. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t. Sorry to make you work on a Sunday, Miguel. Thanks.”
After ending the call, I take a quick side trip to the MADD website. Front and center is a photo of Skye and me dressed to the nines. The caption reads, “Braden Black and friend.”
I roll my eyes. The usual. Most women would find that caption humiliating. I hope Skye isn’t one of them. She’s much more down-to-earth than the women who usually inhabit my orbit.
Except it’s not Skye’s reaction that concerns me.
It’s my own.
It’s the realization that I don’t want to just be Skye’s “friend.”
I want more.
…
The next morning, because of an early meeting with a potential investor, I don’t get into my office until ten thirty.
“Good morning, Claire,” I say absently as I head straight through the door. “Any messages?”
Claire rises and enters my office to lay down a handful of message slips. “Mostly mundane stuff,” she says, “except for these three.” She shoves them toward me.
I read the name.
Kay Brown.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Three calls before ten,” Claire says. “I’m expecting the fourth any minute now.”
“What does she want?”
“What do you think? She wants the scoop on the MADD Gala.”
“She doesn’t need to get that from me.”
Claire smiles. “You’re going to make me spell it out for you, huh? Apparently you had a new woman on your arm. I’ve been hearing gossip all morning.”
“My personal life isn’t any of Kay Brown’s business. Or this office’s.”
“I didn’t say I’ve been spreading gossip, Mr. B. I’ve been hearing gossip.”
“From whom?”
“I’m not a snitch. But you can count on me not to spread any.”
I nod. Claire’s not a gossip. If she were, she’d be long gone by now. With a staff the size of mine, there’s bound to be some talk, though. I know this, and I usually let it lie.
Today, for some reason, it rubs me the wrong way.
I’ve been on the receiving end of libelous gossip stories in all the rags. I ignore it. Always. But I don’t want Skye subjected to it.
“Call Kay and tell her I’m not interested in talking,” I tell Claire.
“I will. Just so you’re aware, though, Kay knows the name of your date last night. She mentioned Skye Manning.”