But still, she hadn’t felt like this indecades.
And she wasn’t ready to let it go.
Chapter Seven
Sunlight streamed through Brown& Co.’s glass façade, casting golden lines on the marble floor. Billie liked to open the shop herself when she could, preferring to feel the silence before the day began. It gave her the illusion of order. She moved through the space with a cup of coffee in hand, pausing to adjust the drape of a jacket on one of the display forms. Every fold had to be exact. Everything had to portray what she wanted to portray.
She eyed the clock hanging above the glass counter. Her assistant would be in soon, followed by another member of staff who worked out of the back room, and that meant the first appointment of the day would also fast approach.
Then Debra Allen. 11 a.m.
She’d tried to convince herself that the name was merely one appointment amongst many, just an insignificant repeat customer, but she couldn’t hold the lie for much longer. There was preciselynothinginsignificant about Debra. Nothing at all.
Billie took a slow sip of coffee and looked around the shop. The sleek furniture, the faint scent of pressed fabric and cedar, the constant whirr of the air-conditioning. It should have calmed her, but everything felt off-balance this morning. Her reflectionin the mirror looked as it always did—impeccable and self-contained—but she could see the crack in it now.
The sound of heels clicked against the marble floor. It would be Nina. Punctual, as she usually was after being late once and learning her lesson.
“Morning,” Billie said, her eyes fixed on London outside the window.
“Morning,” Nina’s voice was careful as always, but still bright. She carried a tablet against her chest, most likely showing the day’s schedule on the screen. “We’ve got three fittings before lunch, then you’re meeting with the supplier.”
“Good.” Billie nodded as she eyed the suit in front of her. “And the Allen appointment?”
“Confirmed.”
A pause stretched between them. Billie caught Nina’s reflection in the mirror, her back straight, neatly dressed, and every inch of her the efficient assistant she’d trained her to be. There was still that flicker of something in her, though. The memory of Billie’s hands. The unpredictability of their relationship that Nina saw, but what Billie thrived on.
“Come with me,” Billie said suddenly.
Nina nodded. “Of course.”
Billie led her through to the office. It was always neat in there. One wall of fabric swatches, one of mirrors, and a desk that gleamed under the morning light. She set her coffee down and gestured towards the door. “Close it.”
The click of the latch echoed through the room.
Nina stood by the desk, set her iPad down, and clasped her hands in front of her. Then she waited with that mixture of curiosity and nerves present in her eyes. The same look she always wore when Billie wanted her alone.
“Tell me,” Billie said, leaning back against the edge of the desk, “how long have you worked for me now?”
“Almost three years.”
“And in that time, have I once told you that I appreciate what you do?”
Nina paused. “You…show it.”
“Mm.” Billie smiled faintly. “That sounds like a diplomatic answer.”
“I mean it.”
“Good.” Billie pushed off the desk and straightened. “Because I do. You’ve been reliable and consistent.” Her tone shifted, softening just enough to draw a furrow between Nina’s brows. “And that’s a rare thing.”
Colour crept up Nina’s throat. Billie noticed, as she always did. It was a reaction she could summon at will, and it was part of the rhythm between them.
“Come here.”
Nina obeyed without question, stepping closer until she stood just within reach.
Billie’s gaze travelled slowly up from the buttons of Nina’s blouse to her face. “You’re trembling.”
