“I mean…did you try telling her that she doesn’t have to be perfect?” Weston suggested.
I stared at him like he was a fucking idiot. “No. I told her she had to shine like a motherfucking diamond in order to get one out of me. What the hell do you think I said to her?”
“My bad.” He put his hands up like he was under arrest and leaned back.
“None of you have ever had any successful relationships,” I said, pointing my glass at every one of them in turn. “Cross, you can’t keep it in your pants with one woman. Ethan, your girlfriends split the second they realize that you’re pretty much a dick to everyone around you. Gareth, I’ve never even seen you around a woman—”
“Just because I don’t advertise my liaisons doesn’t mean they don’t happen.” He arched a brow at me.
“The fact that you just called them liaisons is all I need to know,” I countered. “And Weston…you’re just really fucking blind. So it’s not like any of you can give me any realistic, meaningful advice, right?”
There was a mumble of assent around the fire.
“You seriously bought her a publishing imprint?” Wes asked.
“Yeah. One that Cross now owns.” I lifted my glass to him in a salute. “Bottom line is that Daisy and I are opposites. We both knew it. We both did our best to fit into each other’s lives. But only one of us believed that it could work out. And now…well, here we are.”
Silence stretched between us, only broken by the crackling fire.
“I’m sorry, man,” Weston said slowly.
“Yeah.” I tried to force a smile, but it just wouldn’t come. “Me, too.”
* * *
I stared at the calendar on my phone as both my assistants prattled on about some email issue within the company where someone had accidentally CC’d everyone instead of just hitting reply.
How could it have already been two weeks since she’d walked out on me?
How the hell was I still breathing?
When the fuck was the vise around my chest going to let up and let me breathe again?
“Well, that’s not a lot of comfort to the woman he was supposed to be replying to!” Alan snapped.
My door burst open and Harper flew in, waving a flash drive in her hands and wearing a giant smile. “Everybody get out!” She swung her finger toward me, “Except for you.”
“He has a meeting in fifteen minutes, Ms. Thompson!” Mrs. Donaldson yelled from the hallway.
“Is it just me, or has my life become a vortex of chaos in the last few months?” I asked blandly, already knowing the answer. Daisy had taken my carefully constructed routine and then turned it on its head, then left me to deal with the ramifications of it. “You two can go,” I said to my assistants.
They scurried out, still arguing about whose fault the email was.
Harper shut the door behind them and then plopped into one of the seats opposite my desk.
“You look…” I scanned her features. “Smug? Satisfied? I can’t decide which word fits.”
“Both,” she said with a grin, sliding the flash drive over the expanse of my desk.
“What’s this?” I caught it.
“I think I’ve solved about ninety-percent of our problem with the safety line.” She grinned.
I inserted the drive into my computer and opened the file, scanning through the pages and pages of reports. “And you think this material is as effective?”
“About ninety-five percent.” She nodded. “It’s not going to be as pretty on the inside as the professional line, and the custom fit really isn’t an option with the recreational, but if we use this material and allow them to place the pads themselves for a unique fit, the results are ninety-five percent as good as the professional line, and at least fifty-percent better than what’s on the market right now.”
I studied the document, my brain whirring with possibilities. “Weston owns a plant that’s capable of this kind of production, and if I’m not mistaken, they just lost one of their contracts.”
“See? And it could save all those jobs!” Harper was practically bouncing in her seat. “I know it’s not a hundred percent as good as the professional line, but this is as close as we’re going to be able to get. And I honestly think that putting out a viable product that’s fifty-percent better than what’s on the current market is a hell of a lot better than not putting out anything at all because we’re chasing that five percent that we just can’t make happen. Not while remaining profitable.”
I leaned back in my chair and laughed.
Harper cocked her head to the side and looked at me like I’d lost it. “You okay, Ash?”
“It’s ironic. We can make this happen simply by giving up on perfection.” My laughter grew and grew until my chest shook and my heart ached.