“They knew how heavy your workload was and saw an opportunity to lighten it, and I encouraged them to step up. Take on more responsibilities. And yesterday, that meant making a call without consulting you. I believe you owe them some gratitude.”
And all I could think was, what was the point of all those late nights? All the time and energy that I poured into this, when at the end of the day, I’d abandoned my work for my relationship.
Thank god Winnie and Jet had been here.
God, what David must think of me right now. How disappointed he must be in me.
And the interns, I’d been so shitty to them since they started, hoarding my workload and pushing them off to the junior managers.
Had I even thanked them? Not just today, but ever? Surely I must have, but for some reason, I couldn’t remember a single time. Fuck.
And they tried so hard. Always doing any job given to them with a smile on their faces. Willing to learn and eager for me to teach them, but I’d been so preoccupied doing everything myself. Preoccupied with Jackson.
My guilt multiplied. Honestly, David should just take the launch off of me until I got my shit together.
All the air deflated out of me, and I crashed down into one of the chairs across from David’s desk. “You really think I’ve been doing too much?”
“Yes. It’s all I’ve been trying to tell you for the last six months. Slow down, relax, use the team. Why do you think I hired Winnie and Jet in the first place? But you refused to let anyone help you.”
“Because I knew I could do it myself.”
“Audrey.” And oh, he sounded so disappointed. “Why did you come to work with me when I started this place?”
This was easy to answer. “Because I believed in your idea. I believed in you, and I wanted to work for you.”
“Why?”
“Because …” Realization hit me, and I sighed. “Because you’re the best boss I ever had. You always trusted me to do my job and gave me opportunities no one else had.”
He didn’t reply, only tilted his head with a knowing look in that mother hen sort of way that should have frustrated me but instead made me smile back at him until I rolled my eyes. “Okay, okay, you’ve made your point.”
“I suspect that isn’t the only reason you’re upset. Can I ask what is happening with that man of yours, or would you rather not talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about. It’s over.”
And oh, God, the look of empathy on his face really sharpened the knife.
“You always give 110 percent, kiddo. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I don’t know if you’re even able to give any less. When you want something, really feel passionate, you throw yourself into it. Why do you think I wanted you for Bespoke? You have a spark in you, Audrey, and when you decide to shine that light on something, you’re blinding. You need to try and find more balance—lord knows you work yourself to the bone, but please, don’t dull that spark. Not for me, not for him, not even for yourself. You’re something special, and if I had to guess, it’s part of why he loves you.”
David walked around his desk to hand me a tissue, and it was only then that I realized I’d started crying. Perfect.
He perched on the edge of his desk. “What about working here is different than working at Empire?”
I was surprised by the change of subject, sniffling as I thought of my answer. “Because it doesn’t feel like I’m just grinding away for nothing. I have purpose here.”
“You might not feel like you’re slaving away for someone else, but I think you’re still going. You’re just doing it to yourself now.” David’s lip curled into a concerned smile. “You need to have something else, Audrey. Something for you. If this all failed tomorrow, I’d still have Nicky, and that would be enough for me. I would hope you had something just as special to keep you going.”
That thought stopped me in my tracks. I did have something. Someone. And yesterday, I’d walked away from it.
“I won’t tell you work isn’t important. I would never have started this place otherwise. But it’s not your identity, Audrey, any more than your partner or life outside is. And it’s also not solely up to you. And when there were other people involved, you need to trust them to help.”
Trust. So elusive, so fragile.
David had mine. I’d followed him here from Empire because I trusted him implicitly. And I understood now that he had that same trust in me.
Winnie and Jet had earned it, despite all my efforts.
And Jackson. Who’d listened and waited and allowed me into his life, his home, his family. Who’d leaned into his—frankly misguided—rep of a womanizer to keep me out of the public eye for a little bit longer. Who had a career he cared about but always made time to ask about mine, who sought out ways he could help, no matter how small.
