Somehow, she had a feeling Cruz wouldn’t see it that way.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the studio door and stepped outside. She could hear voices, Cruz and another guy’s, around the corner and she paused, not wanting to interrupt what sounded like a heated conversation.
‘George, your market is the biggest in the region,’ Cruz said. ‘If you don’t stock our avocados, that’s a massive hit for us.’
The other man, who sounded old, cleared his throat. ‘Look, I know I’ve been doing business with your father for twenty years, but we pride ourselves on family values. Hell, it’s part of our brand, and unfortunately, that video isn’t aligned with it.’
Elora pressed a hand to her chest, dread making her sway. Cruz would lose a lucrative business contract because of her mistake?
So much for boosting the farm’s profile. She’d scuttled it.
‘I’ll get our marketing manager to take it down.’ The desperation in Cruz’s voice made her heart skip a beat. ‘You know us, George. We’re upstanding, we always deliver and our produce is the best. You wouldn’t have been selling our avocados for all these years if we weren’t a good team. So please don’t let a silly video that I had nothing to do with ruin our business relationship.’
‘I’m sorry, Cruz, my hands are tied. I can’t afford to let the market suffer by association, and I’m too damn old to get embroiled in any drama.’ George’s chuckle sounded forced. ‘But for what it’s worth, you may attract more female customers now.’
Footsteps clomped away and Elora peeked around the corner in time to see a bow-legged octogenarian walking to a beaten-up produce truck. He climbed in the driver’s seat, surprisingly nimble, and drove away.
As if sensing her presence, Cruz turned towards her, his expression a mix of devastation and anger. It would’ve been difficult enough explaining the video if he hadn’t seen it, but hot on the heels of him losing vital business because of it … This wouldn’t be good.
As she approached him, his ominous silence raised the hair on her arms.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I was coming to find you to discuss the video,’ she said in a rush. ‘I thought you might not have seen it, but sounds like you have, and I’m really sorry. I wanted to explain last night but it was late. Anyway, I wanted to boost the farm’s profile and thought a thirst trap might be the way to go, as I’ve used them to great effect in the past. But unfortunately, I’m an idiot, and the app I use must’ve malfunctioned, because the music I added to the reel was muted and my mortifying commentary on your body wasn’t.’ Blood rushed to her cheeks. ‘Anyway, I can take it down. I contemplated doing it last night, but thought the publicity might be worth it, though by what I just heard, maybe not. So once again, I apologise.’
By his frigid expression, her apology had fallen on deaf ears.
As the awkward silence continued, she racked her brain to think up something to say.
‘Do you have any idea what you’ve done?’ When Cruz finally spoke, his icy delivery matched his expression. ‘You’ve cost us our oldest client, who bought tonnes of avocados from us annually.’ He shook his head. ‘Without their contract, we lose millions.’
Her stomach knotted and her palms grew clammy. This was so much worse than she thought.
She reached for her trusty optimism, despite the fury in his eyes. ‘With a little luck, we can drum up new customers. The farm is on the map now after that reel, so we should—’
‘There is no we,’ he muttered, his tone contemptuous. ‘You’re fired.’
Stunned, she watched him walk away.
CHAPTER
33
If one word summed up Ferne, it would be stoic. From a young age, she’d accepted her fate. Whatever came her way, she’d deal with it. And while she’d loved Taj first time around, once her broken heart mended, she’d accepted that they never would’ve worked long term. He’d been content to drift through life doing odd jobs and not owning a house, while she’d had ambition and then some.
Later, her stoicism had helped her tolerate her marriage. She didn’t hate Mac or lament their loveless marriage, she’d just got on with life, doing what had to be done daily.
Now, as she stood on Taj’s doorstep, she couldn’t recognise this anxious, excited mess she’d become. From the moment she’d opened the door yesterday to find him delivering her groceries, through watching him cook her dinner and during their lovemaking, the midnight picnic and cuddles this morning, it had felt like she’d been having an out-of-body experience.
This kind of stuff didn’t happen to her.
How could it be possible that, in a few short days, she’d arrived in the city, moved into her dead husband’s love nest, booked and cancelled a trip she’d been dreaming about forever, made a new friend, encountered her husband’s lover and reunited with the love of her life?
And now this, another shock as she craned her neck to take in the vast frontage of Taj’s house.
When Taj invited her over for lunch, she’d expected his place to be a modest rental edging towards disrepair as many rentals in this part of the city were. Instead, it appeared Taj had won the lottery or was housesitting for a rich friend, because this modern townhouse in the Docklands boasted three levels, a pristine, rendered exterior and a funky chrome front door.
She pushed the doorbell, another modern marvel that looked like it belonged on a gaming console, wishing the butterflies dancing in her stomach would quit. She had nothing to be nervous about, considering Taj had already seen her naked and wanted to spend more time with her, but this was moving so fast she couldn’t help but feel off-kilter.
When Taj opened the door, his smile warm and welcoming, her breath hitched. He’d showered at her place this morning but had come home and changed into black slacks and a white, opennecked shirt that set off his olive skin. He’d always been attractive, but he’d improved with age, the lines creasing his face adding character rather than detracting from his handsomeness.
