Page 41 of The Trouble with Love and Ink
I whirled to find Amanda, who was not at all the composed image she’d been in Victoria’s office. Now flyaways floated atop her head, escapees loose from a bun. Her blouse had come halfway untucked and not in a cute, I-did-this-on-purpose way. The blush of her cheeks looked less of a rosy and more of a I’m this close to losing my shit.
The man, who must have been Jason, seemed to read the look the same way. He put up his hands in surrender. “My mistake. I’ll fix it right away.”
Amanda huffed and then turned in my direction, seeming to see me for the first time. Her face fell into an attempted mask of pleasure. “Hailey, hi. We have you in that corner.”
She pointed to a folded table directly to our left, not far from the entrance.
“Okay,” I managed, afraid to say anything that might tip her over the edge.
“Let us know if you need anything,” she said, but she was already walking toward the caterers, surely to terrorize more victims before Victoria could terrorize her.
Jason gave me a harrowing run while you can look. I attempted a polite smile, but at this point, it felt more like a grimace.
I unpacked supplies onto my designated table: paint pens, chalk, a sharpener, pointed pens, a case of nibs, black and gold ink, as well as painter’s tape.
“You think you have enough stuff?” Beck asked.
“What were you expecting? I’d come with a box of crayons?”
“No. Maybe a few Bic pens but not crayons.”
I couldn’t help myself. I threw my head back and laughed. Maybe cackled is a better word. Beck’s eyes crinkled at the corners with a bright, all-consuming smile. He enjoyed making me laugh, I realized. The thought sent up a flight of butterflies rebelliously and stupidly in my stomach.
“Hailey, is this spot okay?”
My head snapped in the direction of Victoria’s voice. She was an absolute vision. Her curls cascaded down from a half-updo, spilling onto her back. Her coral dress fit tight, showing off her toned body.
Another woman walked in step with her on equally toned, perfectly bronzed legs. The sequins on her dress shimmered with each hip sway. She had long black hair that cascaded from a savagely tight ponytail. With piercing blue eyes and cheekbones that could cut, I didn’t think anyone ever fit the word “slay” quite like Victoria’s companion.
“Yes,” I finally answered. “This spot is perfect.”
“Good. Hailey, this is Reagan,” Victoria said, indicating the model in sequins. “Reagan, this is Beck’s girlfriend and my calligrapher, Hailey. They used to work together before Hailey started her business.”
Beck and I had discussed the lie before he sent his sister the text letting her know he was dating one of her vendors. It sounded odd coming out of Victoria’s mouth—something she believed to be true that I knew to be false—but not any weirder than her calling me Hailey, I supposed.
“They bumped into each other outside my office and have been dating since.” Her head cocked to the side, but she smiled while appraising us. “I have to admit, I was surprised when Beck told me you were seeing each other, but watching you two flirt just now—I can see the chemistry.”
I stiffened, and something in the back of Beck’s throat made a clicking noise. He tried to cover the sound with a laugh, but it came out strained.
Reagan’s icy eyes did a slow toe-to-head sweep of me. She looked unimpressed.
Yep. Nothing to see here, I thought sourly. Seeing Beck with someone as plain as me must have burned her up. I probably should have played nice, but I couldn’t get over the fact that she cheated on Beck—and broke his heart.
My arm snaked behind Beck’s lower back, and I grabbed his side to pull him close. In return, Beck’s arm draped possessively over my shoulder. I knew he was ripped; swimming with him had told me that much, but seeing and feeling were two very different things. Every cell in my body seemed to swarm to meet the points of contact: my chest at his ribs, my hips at his thigh.
“Yeah,” I said, trying my best to plaster an adoring look on my face as I looked up at Beck. “It felt like fate—running into each other again.”
Beck’s eyes danced. He seemed to enjoy my performance. I playfully scrunched my nose at him, and he booped it with his pointer finger. We were being nauseatingly cute.
Reagan gave a tight smile.
“Where’s Tom?” Beck asked Reagan, his deep voice rumbling through my rib cage.
“We broke up last month.”
“That’s too bad,” he said without inflection.
So much for the they’ve both moved on plan. Oh well, Victoria didn’t seem fazed by Reagan being single. She was too busy smiling at us.
