He leans back in his chair as I sit across from him. “What’s up, then?”
I square my shoulders and wish I was standing. “I’ve started dating Phil.”
For a second he just stares at me blankly. “Okay? Congratulations. I didn’t know you were— Wait. Phil who?”
“Phil Marchand.”
His mouth drops open. I wait for him to process the news before I ask what the next steps are.
“You… He… But… Okay. Wow. This isn’t what I expected you to say.”
“Hm.” It’s as close to a grunt as I can let myself get in this kind of meeting. Damian probably wouldn’t care, but I can’t bring myself to grunt at my boss while telling him I have a personal relationship with a designer I’m working with.
“When did this happen? Last I heard, you were mad that he was right and you were wrong. I never even got the vibe that you were interested in him.”
I swallow hard. As much as I like my colleagues, I rarely discuss my personal life with them. Casual stuff like what I did on a weekend, sure, but not my romantic feelings. Damian doeshave a right to some information, though, since I’m blurring professional lines, and to be with Phil, I’m willing to make myself a little uncomfortable.
“I wasn’t at first,” I admit, then correct, “Well, I thought he was hot. But that’s it. Then we exchanged a couple of emails, some text messages…” I huff a laugh. “I don’t need to tell you how great he is. The more we talked, the more I liked him, and last night we had dinner and decided we wanted to… you know…” I shrug. “See each other.”
Damian nods slowly but doesn’t say anything.
“He knows I’m having this conversation with you,” I add. “Neither of us would ever use our personal relationship to?—”
My boss holds up a hand. “No, I know that. You and Phil are both honorable people. I don’t have any doubt about that.” He pulls a face. “That doesn’t mean I don’t need to make sure all bases are covered.”
I nod. “Yeah, I figured.”
“Thank you for telling me. I’ll need to tell Sharon and the lawyer. There’s a disclosure form you need to complete, as well, so everything is officially on record. Which clients have you pulled stuff for from Phallacy?”
“Margaret and Daria.”
“You need to tell both of them and make sure they know they can speak to me if they have concerns.” He pulls another face. “I doubt they will. It’s not like we hold our clients down and force them to wear things.”
“Margaret was the one who requested I reach out to Phallacy, so I can’t be accused of impropriety there. I’ll still tell her, though. And Daria’s so in love with the top they’re making her that even if this was something that would normally bother her, she won’t care.”
Damian spreads his hands. “Then we’re good. You tell them—and any future clients you pull from Phallacy for—we’ll get the paperwork on file, and that should be the end of it.”
I sigh in relief and barely keep myself from sagging in the chair. “Thanks, Damian.”
He leans forward. “One question.”
I brace myself.
“Can I tell Kane?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
PHIL
I’m catapulted—literally—awaketo the sound of ghoulish screams. It takes me a panicked, sleep-fuzzed second to realize it was just Calla jumping on my bed, demanding at the top of her lungs that I wake up.
“What the fuck, Cal?” I moan, rolling over and hauling the covers up around my ears. “Go away.”
Her laugh is an incredulous cackle. “Yeah, that’s not happening. Not after that little stunt you pulled in the chat last night. I’ve been delegated to get all the deets.”
So this is what morning-after regret feels like. I never thought the cause would be a text message.
“What time is it?” Maybe I can convince her we need to get ready for work.
