“Not really. I’m sure she only got the job because she’s Veronica’s niece. I don’t even know if she went to school for fashion or had any previous experience.”
Maddox clicks his tongue. “Well, Dauntless is gonna be out of business if she continues to give Trang design roles. If you were the lead designer on the team, I’m sure you would’ve killed it on your first try.”
I can’t help the grin that breaks free. Just like that, another shard of ice around my heart chips away.
I clear my throat, quickly glancing away. “I need to get going before I have to face Veronica’s wrath again.”
“Right. Well, I hope the rest of your day goes well,” he says, holding the door open for me.
“Thank you.” I flash him a smile, stepping out of the break room in a better mood than when I walked in.
How does Maddox always know exactly what to say to lift me up?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
annalise
The crashof waves blends with the laughter of children and the sharp barks of sea lions splashing around the pier. I finish the last of my clam chowder and toss the empty container into a nearby trash can.
Grabbing my bag, I pull out my sketchbook and colored pencils.
I’d been holed up in my apartment all morning, staring at blank pages and crumpling every attempt at a new design. So I came to the pier, hoping a change of scenery would cure my creative block.
Sketching used to be effortless. A flower, a bird, even a plate of food could spark an idea that blossomed into a beautiful piece of clothing. But ever since I returned to San Francisco, I’ve struggled to find inspiration. Between Veronica’s ruthless demands and the constant worry over Abuelo, I haven’t had the heart to create. Lately, I’ve felt like I’m losing myself.
But then Maddox’s words of encouragement sparked something within me—something I thought had been fading away. I feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach when I think of him andthe way his eyes lit up as he encouraged me to keep chasing my dreams.
Thosebeautifulwarm brown eyes.
Suddenly an idea strikes me, and I pull out a brown colored pencil that closely matches his eye color. I smile to myself as I glide the pencil across the paper. Each stroke brings me one step closer to creating something beautiful.
When I hold up the finished sketch, a sparkly brown mermaid gown stares back at me, and for the first time in months, I’m proud.
I shake my head, wondering who would’ve thought I’d find inspiration from my ex.
“Tsuki, get back here!”
I glance up just as a fluffy white blur barrels toward me, leash dragging behind her. Maddox is sprinting after her but Tsuki beats him to me, leaping onto the bench and smothering me in kisses.
“Hi, pretty girl,” I coo, scratching behind her ears.
“I’m so sorry about my—” Maddox skids to a stop, then freezes when he sees me. “Annalise. Hey.”
It’s cloudy today but he’s wearing sunglasses—probably so people won’t recognize him—along with a hunter-green sweater, dark blue jeans, and—my heart stumbles—the same grey beanie I knitted for him years ago.
He slides onto the bench, eyes dropping to my sketch. “Wow. This is stunning.” His fingers brush mine as he lifts the page, and a jolt of electricity shoots through me.
“Did you get inspired by those lazy sea lions?” he asks, nodding toward a group of them lounging on the dock.
“Yeah, the sea lions,” I say quickly, eyes darting away as heat creeps onto my cheeks.
“The way your mind works never ceases to amaze me,” he says, a warm smile touching his lips. “Remember that time at the store? You spotted that funky lamp, and by the end of the nightyou’d turned the idea into your prom dress.” He closes the space between us until our thighs press firmly together and locks his eyes with mine. “You are extraordinary, Annalise.”
A smile ghosts over my lips and the flutters in my stomach multiply. I clear my throat and tuck my sketchbook and colored pencils back into my bag. “So… you’re playing against Boston tomorrow?” I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
If he keeps saying things like that—keeps pulling up old memories—I don’t stand a chance of containing these damn butterflies.
His brow arches, a slow knowing smirk curving his mouth. “Oh, so you’ve been keeping up with my game schedule, Monroe?”
