Enzo was in the kitchen, pouring cold brew. He’d arrived the evening before last after Tabitha texted him about my breakdown. I couldn’t be mad. Hewasmy emergency contact, though I’m not sure that would have mattered much as far as Tabitha was concerned. The minute I’d opened the door to him, I’d lost it, crumpling against him in tears like some overdramatic princess.Enzo had simply shut the door and held me until I had calmed down enough to tell him everything that had been building for months: the massive betrayal of an employee I trusted, Titan’s hostile bullying, my mother’s blatant misunderstanding of me, and Finn’s devastating absence and silence.
“They had to go to the ranch to talk about succession plans,” Enzo had stroked my hair, handing me another tissue as he explained the sudden trip. “Nolan wanted to make sure everything was in order before the wedding. Dom said they could be there in two days. I doubt Finn would have left so suddenly if he’d had a choice.”
“I’m not so sure,” I’d sniffed loudly before blowing my nose again. “I don’t think that would have made him pull away so hard. As possibly the world’s foremost authority on keeping people out, I can tell when someone puts walls up real fast and that’s exactly what he did. He was like a whole other person. He was treating me like I was who he thought Alex was back when we first met.”
Enzo had simply hugged me tighter, resting his chin on my head for a moment before pulling back.
“Not to change the subject, sister, but…” he looked at me, glancing up at my hair and then back at my face, “your hair is a state. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go this long without a touch-up.”
His absurd timing pulled a laugh from me. Trust Enzo to know how to change the subject just enough to keep me from wallowing.
“I missed my appointment,” I’d confessed, smiling sheepishly. “It was supposed to be on Saturday, but instead I went to the chaos machine’s recital and got in a fight with Mom.”
“Tsk tsk,” he got up and held his hand out. “Give me your stylist’s number. I’ll call her and smooth things over. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll offer her an obscene amount of Dom’s money.”
That earned him another laugh as I got up from the floor.
He’d managed to secure me a make-up appointment for the next afternoon and insisted on going with me after hanging out with Lennon at my office most of the day. I sat down in thesalon chair as Staci fixed me with her trademark “let’s make you beautiful” smile, ready to touch up my roots and trim all the ends of my hair.
“Cut it off,” I’d said instead, earning surprised looks from both her and Enzo. “Let’s change the color too.”
It was the only thing I could control in the moment, and so I took control.
“There’s our beauty queen,” Enzo smiled at me as I sat down at the counter, pushing cold brew toward me. That was the other thing he’d done as soon as we’d arrived home from the salon. He’d made a whole batch of cold brew, not listening to my protests.
“Your hair really is perfect,” he sighed, taking a sip of his own coffee. “I don’t know what you’d do without me.”
“You didn’t cut my hair,” I snorted, touching the short locks. After my pronouncement to chop it off, I didn’t have much else to offer. Enzo and Staci collaborated, landing on structured layers with movement and texture that looked effortless when styled correctly. The length hit just below my shoulders in the front now, tapering up toward the back in a shaggy asymmetrical bob. The face-framing pieces that started at my jawline complemented the slight prominence of my nose. I had to admit I was shocked by the change and caught myself sitting just a little straighter than I had in a while.
“No, but I provided the vision,” Enzo pressed his fingers to his chest, lifting his nose in the air. “I think we should give credit where credit is due, sister.”
“Fine, but I take credit for the color,” I stuck my tongue out at him. Gone was the electric raspberry I’d used to hide in plain sight. Instead, Staci had gone with a “shadow root” technique, that felt and looked more like intentional gradient architecture. Dark espresso coloring at my crown melted into caramel midtones, and finally a champagne blonde with pink undertones and ends. It was hair that said “I have my shit together”even though I absolutely did not have my shit together.
“Eggs?” Enzo asked, opening the fridge.
“Enz, you don’t have to cook for me every time you stay over,” I took a sip of my coffee. It wasn’t quite as good as Finn’s, but still better than the iced coffee I’d been putting up with instead. I made myself a promise, that I would probably forget later, to stop settling forfineso much in my own life.
“I know, but I want to,” he lifted a shoulder, pulling out the frying pan next. “I like doing it. It’s payback for letting me crash here.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“I know. But just let me take care of you, okay?” His scolding was full of warmth.
We made breakfast and then ate together before I went to shower and get ready for the day. I carefully styled my hair before putting on a little extra makeup, needing to hide the dark circles under my eyes. I wanted to project absolute authority today. Jordan had no idea who he had messed with.
I pulled my armor from the closet. A three-piece silk suit in ivory that I’d paid to have tailored so it fit my curves perfectly. It was my first choice whenever I had an important client meeting or event, helping me feel even more like a force to be reckoned with.
The fabric whispered against my skin as I pulled the vest on; no blouse, just the sleeveless waistcoat buttoned over a good bra, the fitted cut emphasizing the indent of my waist while skimming over everything else. The matching trousers were next, wide legs that moved like liquid when I walked. I slipped on the blazer last, feeling it settle across my shoulders as checked myself in the mirror.
I hardly recognized myself while at the same time seeing the woman I’d lost somewhere in the last few months. The woman who had built a company from the ground up, who chose to make the destiny she wanted rather than giving in to what everyone else expected her to be. I was proud of her, even if at the moment I was also exhausted.
I attached small pearl studs to my ears and slipped my dad’s vintage Rolex onto my wrist, the weight of it grounding me.
Finally, I stepped into blood-red wedge heels. Four inches of confidence that put me at eye level with most men in the room, with stability that would keep me from toppling over or snapping a heel.
“Holy moly guacamole,” Enzo whispered, taking me in as I returned to the living room. “You are absolutely terrifying in the best way possible.”
“Thank you,” I grinned, picking up my bag. “Are you sure you’re okay staying here?”
