by Erika Kelly
A low chuckle reminded her that Robert was in the room. She glanced up to see his amused expression. “So.” He wagged a finger between them. “How long has this been going on?”
“It’s brand new.” She leaned into Gray’s arm, but he didn’t lift it to hug her to him. Which she thought was the sign of a good man, not rubbing it in Robert’s face.
“Really? You look like an old married couple.” His gaze narrowed on her. “Kind of like we used to be.”
“Well, he’s sober, so there’s that.” The moment the words came out, she clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I don’t where that came from. That was stupid and immature.”
“No.” Robert turned serious. “It came from the fact that I never got to apologize for what I put you through.”
“I’m over it, I swear. I’m so over it.”
“No, you’re not,” Robert said. “How could you be? We never talked about it. The last time I saw either of you was the prom. I was in rehab for thirty days. Every second of that time I was thinking about you. I wanted to apologize, let you know I’d never fuck up again, but I didn’t hear from you. Not once. And when I got out? You were gone.”
Never had Robert exposed himself so baldly. It felt like he’d flung the words, wrenched from his gut, at her feet. Did he want an apology? She couldn’t give it to him. He’d made her life a living hell.
“I never got to apologize, but even worse, you never got to ream me out for fucking everything up. But we’re here now, face to face. So, let’s do this. Let’s get it out. All the shit you’ve carried inside for years, you can give me. I can handle it, anything you want to give me, I can handle.”
“I appreciate the offer, and it might have made a difference seven, six, maybe even five years ago. But I honestly don’t have anything left in me to rehash.”
“Bullshit.”
“No, Robert. It’s true. The thing is, I don’t need an apology from you because you didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t let you do. We were locked in an unhealthy relationship. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even friendship. We are both to blame.”
“Don’t say that.” He came around the counter, the two of them so close their breaths mingled. “I can handle anything you want to give me, except hearing you say it wasn’t love. I’m a selfish bastard, and I put you through hell, but I l did love you. Never question that. I fucking loved you.”
“How would you know? You were numb the whole time. Isn’t that the point of being a drug addict?” Saying that out loud felt so much better than she could have imagined.
He stood there fierce, intense, and she thought he might blow up at her, but the muscle in his jaw popped, and he watched her behind shuttered eyes. The tension grew unbearable, and just as Gray moved closer to her, Robert said, “My dad exposed me to shit no kid should ever experience. My mom wasn’t around, and when she was, she was on the phone or locked inside her office. If I didn’t want to feel anything, it was the bullshit from my family. The only good thing in my life was you.” His gaze shifted to Gray—and hardened. “Both of you.” But then he reached for her hand and held it so tightly her ring pinched her finger. “I was a shit boyfriend, a shit friend, a shit person, but never doubt how much I loved you.” He looked down at his brown leather boots. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not being a better man for you.”
His sincerity had any residual anger and resentment melting. In place of the charming, charismatic guy who’d manipulated everyone around him, she saw a humbled man who seemed to have found his way. “I forgive you.” A sheen of moisture filled his eyes, and so she touched his shoulder. “And I hope you forgive me for not being there when you got out of rehab. I hope you understand that it was the only way I could have left you.”
He grabbed her wrist and kissed her palm. “Fuck, Knox. If I could take it back—”
“You can’t. It’s over, and we’re both in good places. Just…stay good, okay?”
Their gazes locked in understanding, he nodded.
“I’ve got to get going.” Gray kissed her cheek. “I’ll leave you two to it.”
“Well, hang on.” She gestured toward Robert. “He came by for a reason.”
“I did. Got some good news.” Robert went quiet for a moment, like he was pulling himself together. When, he did, he drew in a breath, and his expression cleared. “I’ve got six models lined up.”
“Already?” she asked, at the same time Gray said, “How?”
“Called a few modeling agencies. That’s the easy part.”
“I don’t think you mentioned where the money’s coming from,” Gray said.
“I did. I told you The Granger Collection has a department for fashion shows.”
“Right, but Granger’s isn’t backing me,” Knox said. “They don’t have a bridal line, and we haven’t talked about me designing one for them. So, is it your mom? I’m not sure why she’d back me in fashion week.”
“She’s not,” Robert said. “Granger’s is.”
“I don’t get why they’d back me if I’m not designing a line for them. It doesn’t make sense.”
Robert remained unfazed, which gave her confidence. If he were lying, she’d think he’d be rattled, not looking her in the eye. “My mom doesn’t trust me enough to hire me in a full-time role—for good reason. But I’ve got a chance to prove myself. I don’t have a specific budget, but she wouldn’t want me doing something like this half-assed. Truth? If we pull this off, I wouldn’t be surprised if The Granger Collection offers you a contract to launch its first bridal collection.”
She shot a look to Gray. Oh, my God. His smile did what it always did—made her feel like they were in this together. “That would be amazing.”
“Okay, so six models,” Gray said. “What else?”
She elbowed him. “It’s been thirty-six hours.”
Robert pulled out that luminous grin, the one that made all the girls’ knees weak back in high school. Teachers and guidance counselors, too. He’d avoided a lot of trouble with that smile. “I hired the models in the first hour.”
Gray swept past them and grabbed his running shoes. Perched on a bar stool, he shoved a foot into one.
Robert watched him for a moment. “I know you’ve got to train, so if you can’t stick around, it’s cool.”
“I’ve got a few more minutes.” Gray gave a chin nod. Go on.
“Okay, best news of all?” Robert said. “I’ve got a location, and it’s fucking awesome.”
“Really?” Knox asked. “You move fast.”
“Yeah, my dad’s got a connection at a gallery in SoHo.”
“Your dad?” She didn’t trust her fashion show to Robert, senior.
He held up a hand. “I’m the one talking to the owner. My dad just gave me the suggestion. No worries. And it’s a great space, amazing location.”
“Can you get us the name?” Finished tying his shoes, Gray stood up. “We’ll take a look at it online.”
“Sure thing.”
But she knew Robert well enough to see he was annoyed. Pretty sure he doesn’t want Gray checking up on him. Well, nothing she could do about that. Gray was in this with her.
“The big question,” Gray said. “Is whether or not we can get the right people to come.”
“I’m on it.” She heard the bite in his tone.
The two faced off for a moment, but she let them work it out. As much as she didn’t want tension at a time like this, they had to accept this shift in their relationship. Knox was with Gray now—in all ways.
Just the thought of his hands…his mouth on her…sent a shiver down her spine.
And then Gray said, “I bring it up because our concern is whether you know the right editors and bloggers and buyers. Grangers doesn’t do bridal, so their connections are going to be different.”
“I told you the other night, Luc created enough buzz for her show that we’re not going to have any problem getting people to come. I’ve already been in contact with a few of them.
”
“How do you know Luc’s contacts?” Gray folded his arms over his impressive chest.
“You want to know my big sleuthing secrets? How I hacked into the Bellerose database?” Robert whipped out his phone. “Here, let me show how I put in Who goes to the shows at Bridal Fashion Week.”
“Okay, you know what?” Knox stepped between them. “Gray asked a totally fair question, but whatever’s going on between you two has nothing to do with my business. Work out your issues somewhere else.”
Robert shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Look, if this is going to work, you’re going to have to give me a clean slate here. I’m not high. You want to drug test me?”
“This isn’t about you. It’s about Knox. In order for her to decide if she’s going to move forward with the show, she has to know the details, which means it isn’t enough to say you’re inviting people. She needs to know who you’re thinking of contacting.”
The tension left Robert’s shoulders, and the muscle in his jaw relaxed. “Fair enough. I’ll get you a list.”
“That’d be great,” Gray said. “Do you have anything else?”
“Hell, yeah.” Robert grinned. “I found a florist in New Jersey far enough away that no one’s ever thought to use him for events in the city but close enough that he’ll do it for the shot at getting future contracts.”
A tingling at the back of her neck set off a shower of energy down her limbs. This might actually happen. She might get her show.
“Good thinking,” Gray said—a little tightly, but still.
“It was.” After a moment, the tension broke and they high-fived each other. “Yeah, so that’s it so far. The five models, the venue, the—”
Hang on. “You said six models.”
“I’ve confirmed five of them, but I’m talking to a sixth. I’m pretty sure she’s in. She doesn’t work much anymore, but she’s sending me a portfolio today. I’ll put her in the win category for now.”
Knox couldn’t help the little bubble of marvel that broke over her. “You’re really going to pull this off, aren’t you?”
“Or die trying.”
“What about the presentation?” She thought of the set at the Lincoln Center that Luc had built for her. The idea that Antonia would get it…it was like a splash of alcohol on a fresh blister. But she couldn’t go there, to what she’d lost. She had to stay focused on what she was building.
“I haven’t really thought about that yet,” Robert said. “But we’ve got this great gallery space, which, honestly, is a lot hipper than the Lincoln Center. Your dresses are too fresh and contemporary for an old school venue like that anyway. If you’re cool with it, we’ll just keep it simple.” He looked to her for confirmation.
“Simple’s fine.” Her gowns were the showstopper. “But it has to be the right backdrop for the style of the dresses.”
“Good to know.” He flashed a mischievous grin. “Because the gallery owner offered some gold cages and polyurethane swings leftover from an opening she had over the summer.”
“Uh…” They all looked at each other, and the burst of laughter broke down the barrier between them. Warmth flowed freely, leaving her with affection for her two oldest friends.
“In this space, there won’t be a traditional catwalk,” Robert said. “But we’ll form a path for the models with chairs set up to face each other.”
“Like a path through a garden.” She could picture her dresses billowing in a breeze.
“Exactly.”
Inspiration struck. “Let’s do that, then. We need to keep the pathway clear so the models don’t trip, and we can’t have the fabric catching on anything, but it would be awesome to create an English garden.”
“That’s a good idea,” Gray said. “It’ll keep costs down.”
“Maybe we can hang some fans,” Knox said. “The fabric would look amazing fluttering in a breeze. We could bring in some planters with trees to make it look like a hedge.”
“I should write this down,” Robert said.
As Gray reached for a pad of paper and pencil, Knox continued. “If there’s time, we could cover the walls with trompe l’oeil canvases. A manor house in the distance on one, a view of the countryside on another.” But they didn’t have time—no, wait, it was an art gallery. The owner must know an artist who could put something like this together. “Can you talk to the florist about planters and trees and pink and white roses? We can’t have colors that will overshadow the dresses.”
While Robert took notes, Knox shared a smile with Gray. This is going to work, isn’t it?
She loved his answering expression. Looks like it.
“The gallery owner’s got the champagne covered,” Robert said. “She gets a nice discount. So, that leaves stylists and makeup artists. There’s no shortage of talent in the Tri-State area, so I’m not worried about any of that.” He looked between the two of them. “Sound good?”
Gray nodded, and she said, “It does.” She felt like she’d breathed in helium, like she was about to lift off. But it wasn’t a done deal, so she needed to stay grounded. “Let’s hope we can get the right people to come.”
“I’m not worried about that,” Robert said. “But I do think our best bet is to show as early in the week as possible. Once they see your collection, they’ll clear some room in their schedules to meet with you. We’ll keep the gallery open every day for presentations and hope to hell someone makes an appointment for a private showing.”
“The models understand they’re booked for the week?” she asked.
“Oh. A whole week?” Robert feigned shock. “Is that how it works?”
She whacked his arm with the back of her hand. “Excuse me for being careful, you ass.”
And then he let loose his signature cocky smirk, and his charisma and magnetism flowed all over her. “I got this.”
She felt almost drunk from the crazy cocktail of emotions sloshing inside her. Hope, fear, relief. It was too good to be true, standing here beside a clean and sober Robert who was competently putting together a fashion show for her. “Thank you.”
For being the man I always wanted you to be.
And giving me back my show.
“I’m not going to let you down. I did enough of that in the past. It won’t happen again. You’re going to get your fashion week. And we’re going knock it out of the park.”
Chapter Seventeen
Gray dumped his board and boots in the back of the truck. They’d had a great day on the mountain, but he needed to get home. Today, Knox had moved into the new space, and he wanted to help her unpack. Hopefully, she’d find that sketchbook.
As he rounded the truck, he pulled out his keys, only to find his brothers heading into the resort. “Where you going?”
“Take a leak,” Brodie said.
“It’s a thirty-five-minute drive home.” Dammit. “You can’t wait?”
“Nope.” Brodie led the way inside the ski lodge.
Pocketing his keys, Gray took in the rustic decor. Pretty busy, considering they hadn’t had the first snowfall, when the cross-country skiers would start showing up. His brothers headed across the lobby to the restrooms, but Gray pulled out his phone. He’d just check in with her, see how the move was going.
But before the call could connect, one voice snagged his attention in the noisy bar. It didn’t make sense to hear it in this town on the other side of their mountain. He turned to look, sure he’d find some other guy who sounded like his friend.
But, no, there he was. Robert, sitting at a bar in Idaho in the middle of the afternoon, yucking it up with some older men. Anger broke out across his skin like a rash.
Was he playing them? Striding over, he clapped a hand a little too hard on his friend’s shoulder. “Hey, man. Small world.”
It was just a flash of fear—a flinch around the eyes—replaced by Robert’s winning smile. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Big storm’s coming in that’ll close the pas
s for the winter. Thought we’d drop in for one last run.”
“Saw the heli. Should’ve known it was yours.” He twisted around. “Knox here?”
“Nope. She’s working her ass off to get those dresses done in time.” His tone made his point for him.
Robert gave him a shit-eating grin. “Got it all under control.”
“Yeah? You line up the rest of the models? Hire some stylists?”
Robert slid off the stool, forcing Gray to take a step back. “You don’t trust me, I get that. But you’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to mess things up with her.”
“What things are we talking about, specifically?” Because that sure sounded like he meant more than a fashion show.
“All the things she wanted from me before, but I couldn’t give her because I was too much of an asshole.”
“Top of that list…” He tipped his head toward the bar. “Sobriety.”
“Ah, come on, man. I’ve been sober seven years. I can handle a beer or two.”
“You sure about that?” He was pretty sure an addict shouldn’t be in a bar.
“I’m sure about a lot of things.”
“Seems like you’ve got something to say to me,” Gray said. “You weren’t man enough back in high school, but I’m hoping you are now.”
“Yeah, okay. That’s fair.”
And right when Gray girded himself to hear about Robert’s intention of winning Knox back, the man shocked the hell out of him.
“It felt like you used my bad behavior to make yourself look better than me. And, a lot of the time, when I’d take things too far and you had to save the day, I think I just wanted to take you down a notch, to my level.” He dug his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor. “And I’m sorry for that. Been waiting a long time to say that to you.” He looked him right in the eye. “I’m sorry for being a dick.”
The humility hit him right in the gut, as powerful as a fist. Made him think Robert really had changed. Except…a bar? And not just that, but one in Idaho? “Thank you. It’s good to hear.”
“Truth is, you’re the only one who didn’t put up with my shit. I wore everyone else out, but you were smart enough to bail on me junior year.”