“Deal,” I said, extending a hand in challenge. It was as filthy like she’d said, with crescents of dirt under my nails and enough soil in the creases of my palms to grow zucchinis.
Her eyes dropped to my hand, and for a moment, I was positive she’d refuse. But somewhere in that pretty little head of hers existed some form of manners and a healthy helping of pride, so she slipped that spotless, manicured hand into my dirty, calloused one.
It was soft and warm, though her fingers were strong, gripping my hand and pumping it once, firm and definitive, before taking it back.
Instantly, I felt guilty for daring her—her skin was spoiled with streaks and flecks of dirt. To her credit, she didn’t even dust it off. Instead, she held up her chin and gave me a quietly confrontational glare.
“I’ll give Ivy the exact address. At least I know she’ll write it down.”
“Whatever you have to do,” I said, returning my forearm to the handle of the shovel, not missing the flick of her eyes to my shoulders and the cross of my arms.
“Tomorrow then. Don’t be late.”
She tugged the hem of her jacket, straightening it to match the yardstick that was her spine, and once again, I lamented taking her hand. A scuff of dirt now sullied the very edge of that white tailored coat.
Before I could apologize, she turned on her heel to walk away.
What she didn’t realize—the cat had taken up post directly behind her.
The moment stretched as she tilted in a successful attempt to avoid impaling Brutus with her heel, and when that heel came down, it caught in the seam of concrete. Her long legs twisted, arms shooting out for balance but finding none. Fast, but not fast enough, I moved for her, the shovel hitting the ground with a clang as that pristine white ass of hers landed flat in the black-eyed Susans and that fresh coat of soil I’d just laid down.
Brutus took a seat next to Tess’s feet, curling his tail around himself and watching Lila with what I swore was a wry smile.
My urge to laugh was so intense, it caught in my chest, frozen by the sheer outrage on her face and utter hysteria of the sight of her, so clean and white against the browns and greens and golds of the flower bed. A slow heave of her chest as she breathed fire. The pink of her cheeks flaring to red. The gray of her eyes igniting into a cruel shade of blue, illuminated by the inferno of her thoughts.
I stepped up, unable to school my face as I extended a hand, this time to help her up.
But she scowled, slapping my hand away. “I’ve got it,” she shot, planting her palms in the dirt to push herself up.
As I backed out of the way, I watched her swipe at her ass, too furious to realize she’d only smudged the dirt around.
Tess removed her hands from her mouth, unable to right her face any better than I had. “Here, let me help you—”
“I said, I’ve got it.” Lila’s voice was deadly calm, and at the sound, Tess pinned her lips between her teeth and stepped out of the way.
“Tomorrow,” Lila snapped over her shoulder, smoothing the shining waves of her hair, which remained undisturbed by her tumble.
“See you then,” I answered with a nod.
And then I watched that dirty ass stride proudly out the door.
The second it swung closed, laughter bubbled out of Tess, and at the sound, there was no containing my own. Even Dad joined in, shoulders shaking gently.
“Oh, the poor Susans,” Tess said, swiping at a tear. “Look, her ass print is still there,” she squeaked before succumbing to another bout of laughter.
“The look on her face,” I said with the shake of my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody so mad. Not even you, Tess.”
“And that’s saying something,” she added, resting her palm on her belly like she’d just done a hundred sit-ups. “God, if Ivy and Lila didn’t look so much alike, I’d never believe they were related.”
“I didn’t remember her being this …” I started.
“Bitchy?”
“I was gonna say bossy, but okay.”
Tess sighed. “She wasn’t kidding about sticking her neck out. She’s handling this huge celebrity wedding on her own, and her senior is a total asshole, breathing down her neck and micromanaging her at every turn. Addison is constantly looking for reasons to throw Lila under the bus, and if we screw up, Addison will blame Lila. But even though she’s a pain, the business is good for us. Archer Events handles the biggest weddings in the city, and that’s putting us in their eye line. We’ve just gotta deal with all the stress that comes with doing weddings.”
“Like bridezillas and entitled wedding planners?” I asked.
“Exactly.” Tess sighed. “Although I don’t know what we’re going to do with Lila when Ivy is on maternity leave and isn’t here to manage her. Today was bad enough, and Ivy was just at a doctor’s appointment.”
Dad dusted off his hands. “If she got past you, Tess, I fear for us all.”
“I tried to tell her it wasn’t your fault,” Tess said, her eyes full of apology. “Those flowers went through three florists before it got to the wedding—which I told her—but she stormed right past me to yell at you about it.”
I shrugged. “Don’t worry about me, Tess. I can handle her.” At the disbelieving quirk of her mouth, I added, “I mean it. She can get as mad as she wants, I won’t get riled. I’ll hold the bucket so she can dump all her rage into it, and when she’s empty of it, I’ll get whatever done that she needs done. Trust me when I promise you this—Lila Parker cannot get to me.”
At that, Tess laughed. “Famous last words.”
And oh, if I’d only known how right she was.
2
By Design
LILA
A whistle split my lips, my dirty hand in the air to hail a cab.
Eyes were on me, likely marking the filth on my suit. Or perhaps my height or my red hair, the latter calling regular attention. Not that I minded. I wouldn’t wear so much white if I didn’t want to be seen.
White, I’d found, called more attention than red ever could.
Of course, it also fell prey to every surface it touched, especially when I went to that goddamn dirty greenhouse where that goddamn dirty gardener always found a way to get under my skin. And his stupid cat, too.
A taxi screeched to a quick halt in front of me. With the snap of the handle, I was sliding into the back, digging in my purse for my phone.
“Twenty-Third and Sixth,” I said with more bite than I’d meant. With a sigh, I added, “Please.”
With nothing more than a nod, he took off.
In the fifteen minutes I’d spent at Longbourne, my phone had become a mess of messages and calendar alerts. And while I absently cleared them, Kash Bennet dug his way through my brain with his shovel and that smirk and his idiotic T-shirt.
I could have told you his every flaw. Like his hair, which was thick and lush, black and gleaming and far too long, brushing his ears in waves too perfect for a man that sweaty. Or his nose, which looked like it had been broken once, the perfect line a little bent, flat on top like a Greek statue. Maybe his beard, which was too long to be considered scruff, dark as his hair and thick enough to barely see any skin through it. Or his size, which was far too big. Beastly. Roped and corded with muscles that gleamed with sweat and a peppering of dirt. He was dirty. Filthy and dirty and in desperate need of a manicure.