Astrid sighed. “No, not really.”
“I wonder why.”
Astrid frowned, not sure what to say to that, but she knew she had other things she needed to say. Several things, in fact.
“Look,” she started. “About this morning, I—”
“Yes, that was quite the experience.”
Astrid’s mouth hung open, her words cut off. She took a step closer to the woman, determined to get this apology out. If she didn’t, her work would be compromised, as would her client relationship.
Her career.
Plus, it was just plain human decency to apologize for acting like a tyrant.
She forced herself to look Jordan Everwood in the eyes. The other woman was beautiful, there was no doubt. Had Astrid simply seen her on the street or sitting in a restaurant, she would’ve studied her, watched her move through the world, wondered about her life.
As it happened, their current situation was very different. Astrid noticed that Jordan’s winged eyeliner from this morning was gone,smeared in fact, a bit of black streaking toward her temple. On her cheeks, there were a few tiny tracks of lighter skin, as though tears had carved a path through her makeup. Her lipstick was still perfect—a bold raspberry shade expertly applied to full lips—but the rest of her face seemed... tired. Worn.
A flood of guilt spilled into Astrid’s chest. Had she actually made this woman cry?
Shit.
“I’m sorry,” Astrid said before Jordan could stop her. “Truly, I acted abysmally this morning, and I won’t offer up an excuse—”
“Oh, I’d love to hear it.”
Astrid blinked. “Hear what?”
“The excuse.” She flourished her hand as if to sayPlease, do go on.
Astrid’s heart was solidly in her throat now. She tried swallowing a few times, but it didn’t help all that much as paltry excuses rushed into her mind.
I was in a hurry.
That was my favorite dress.
I didn’t get enough sleep last night.
Well, none of those would do. Not at all, no matter how true they might be.
Jordan’s brows shot up. “Do you actually have one? Or do you just treat people like shit on any given day?”
“No, of course not. That’s not what I—”
“Then you must have an excuse. Or are you only apologizing now because I’m your client?”
Astrid looked down and rubbed her forehead. Tears gathered in her throat. Again. Goddammit, how had this day gotten so far away from her? It was supposed to be perfect. It was supposed to be empowering and successful.
She gazed back up at Jordan, who regarded her patiently. Astrid let herself stare, searching for the right words when, suddenly, shedidn’t have to search. She knew the right words, her excuse—or rather, the reason for this whole horrible morning. It came so easily, words she’d never been able to say in the past year to her best friends, as though this woman’s intent golden-green gaze just pulled truths out of her.
I’m terrified of failing.
I’m terrified of everything.
Jesus Christ. Astrid shook her head a little, swallowed down all the horrifying, embarrassing words that had swelled so suddenly into her chest.
Several seconds passed before she realized Jordan had taken a step closer to her, her crossed arms released, hands now stored in her overall pockets, her head tilted.
