Page 21 of Shattered Oath
"Good afternoon, ladies." His smile swept the room, landing on me last and staying there. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"You are, actually." I set down my pins, brushed my hands on my trousers. "We're in the middle of a fitting."
"Terribly sorry. I'll be brief." His gaze shifted to Naomi, who was watching him like a hawk. "I don't believe we've met. Femi Davies."
"I know who you are." Naomi's voice was flat, unimpressed.
"Ah." His smile didn't waver. "Then you have me at a disadvantage."
"Naomi Mutesi." She stepped down from the pedestal, champagne silk rustling around her. She picked up a robe and wrapped it around herself, taking her time, letting the silence stretch. "So, you're him. The great Femi Davies. You're taller than I expected."
"Is that a compliment?"
"It's an observation." Her eyes moved over him with professional assessment. "I'll give you two a moment. I need to change, anyway." She disappeared into the back room. I could feel her skepticism lingering like smoke.
"She's protective," Femi observed.
"She has cause to be."
"Because of me."
I didn't answer. We both knew. He crossed the room and set the silver box on my worktable, between fabric swatches and my sketching pencils.
I crossed my arms. "What are you doing here, Femi? I have work."
"I come bearing gifts." He held up the box. "And a proposition."
"I don't have time for propositions."
"This one involves dinner."
"Femi, I can't just?—"
"The fitting is almost done, isn't it?" He glanced toward where Naomi had disappeared. "How much longer do you need her?"
Naomi emerged in street clothes. I could see the battle on her face—loyalty versus the fact that I desperately needed a break.
"Twenty minutes," she said finally. "Maybe thirty."
"Perfect." Femi settled into a chair like he owned the place. "I'll wait, then."
"You can't just?—"
"Open your gift first," he interrupted, his voice going softer. "Please, Issy? I saw it and thought of you. That's allowed, isn’t it?"
The other models were watching with barely concealed interest. Even Lucia had paused her work. I was going to kill him. Slowly. With pins.
"You can't keep bringing me things."
"I can, actually. Watch me." He held out the box. "Open it. If you hate it, I'll take it back. No questions asked."
I shouldn't. I knew I shouldn't. But my fingers were already pulling at the ribbon. Inside the silver paper was a leather case. Cartier. My breath caught.
The bracelet was delicate. Gold links, each one set with a diamond so small it was almost invisible, catching light likescattered stars. Simple. Elegant. Exactly what I would have chosen for myself.
"Femi..."
"It reminded me of you." He moved closer, close enough that I could smell his cologne. "Beautiful. Understated. Worth more than most people realize at first glance."
