away without looking back, leaving confusion and an achy longing behind.
* * *
Desperately needing something to distract herself, Ziara tried to catch up on things she probably wouldn’t have a chance to do in the weeks to come unless Sloan changed his mind about firing her before tomorrow. Deep cleaning the house and weeding the flower beds were always good for keeping her hands busy. Too bad her mind didn’t want to cooperate.
But even if he didn’t fire her, she knew in her heart she’d have to move on as soon as the show was over. Even if Vivian graciously extended the offer to be her executive assistant to Ziara, just knowing Sloan was right around the corner and could appear at any minute would keep her on edge.
It looked like she’d end up losing, after all. Her heart tightened, grieving as much for the loss of her beloved position within this company as it did for the necessity of keeping Sloan at arm’s length. She hadn’t just worked for Eternity Designs, she’d believed in its values, its purpose, and had hoped security could be found within its ranks.
As she went inside to clean up, she couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. They mingled with the streaming water of the shower, invisible enough that she could dismiss her shame.
What was happening to her? All these emotions, so long buried deep inside, were erupting at every twist and turn. This was exactly why she didn’t want them—because she couldn’t control them. Or maybe she grieved because she did want them yet couldn’t express them.
Guess she could add confusion to the messy pile.
Tears spent, she dried off, shaking away the last vestiges of depression and guilt. She dressed casually in khaki capris and a fuchsia T-shirt, then brushed out her hair in front of the bathroom vanity. Everyone was allowed one colossal mistake in their lifetime, right? This was hers. At least her conscience was clear. Her mistake wouldn’t hurt anyone but herself.
Padding into the kitchen, she immersed herself in cooking dinner. Something as far from paella as she could get.
She threw together a quick southwestern chicken panini, which she coupled simply with apple and orange sections. Delicious as it was, she’d only managed to choke down half when the doorbell rang. Grateful for an excuse to give up on the pretense of eating, she straightened her T-shirt on the way to the door.
Shock sizzled through her when the door swung open to reveal Vivian. Without waiting for an invitation, her mentor glided inside. Ziara remained speechless for a moment. In the six years she’d been working for Eternity Designs, she’d never seen the Creightons outside the office. Now in the space of a week, both of them had shown up unannounced at her house.
After a thorough glance around the room, Vivian turned to face Ziara. “Is he here?”
Though Ziara understood, she still asked, “Who?”
“Sloan, of course.”
Ziara easily pulled her facade into place, almost amazed at how well she could handle the accusation. But then again, she didn’t have anything left to lose. “Sloan is not here, Vivian, and I resent the implication that he would be.”
Vivian studied her for a moment, brows raised as if surprised Ziara would stand up for herself. Then her chin dipped in a slow nod of acknowledgment. Luckily Ziara found she could meet Vivian’s eyes without a problem. A glimmer of compassion streaked through her as she noted Vivian’s disarray, in contrast to her usually immaculate appearance.
“Perhaps we could sit and talk,” Ziara said. She gestured Vivian into the sitting area facing the fireplace. The overstuffed chair and chaise weren’t necessarily elegant, but they were comfortable and their deep burgundy hue complemented the fire-glazed tiles covering the hearth. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Sweet tea?”
Vivian shook her head, a trembling sigh escaping her coppery brown lips. “That’s what I so like about you, Ziara,” she said. “Always cool under pressure, knowing just the right thing to say.”
Ziara perched on the edge of the chaise opposite Vivian, wishing the same were true in her relationship with Sloan. Business. Business relationship with Sloan. They didn’t have anything outside of that...anymore.
“I know my accusation was rude. But considering Sloan’s history with assistants and this trip to Vegas...” She made a vague gesture with her hand, her diamond rings glittering in the soft evening light. “I assumed something I shouldn’t have, knowing you. You are far too smart a girl to get mixed up with a smooth talker like my stepson.”
Ziara prudently kept her mouth shut and her face impassive.
“Did Sloan procure a designer?”
Ziara now wished they’d go back to the sex issue. There were a lot less mines in that field.
Vivian grimaced. “Ziara, I’m going to find out eventually. I’d rather be informed now than surprised in front of my employees.”
Ziara was too emotionally exhausted to come up with a clever sidestep. “He’s hired Patrick Vinalay.”
Vivian stood immediately, the click of her heels rapping on the wood floor. “I should have known Patrick would be the one to take him up on the offer. But it will put a kink in my plans.”
Ziara frowned. “What do you mean?”
Vivian turned to face her, the pale cream of her skin contrasting with the bold colors of Ziara’s home. “I thought I could get around whatever he might do by influencing Robert to cause a few delays until I could find a backer to bail me out, but having someone else on the design floor will change that.”
With a jolt, Ziara realized how serious Vivian was about this. Her mentor, the woman who had taught her the meaning of professionalism, had actually considered sabotaging her own company. Delays in production could have bogged down the rest of the process, resulting in major issues at showtime. Maybe even cancellation.
Unaware of Ziara’s growing alarm, Vivian smiled and said, “I’ll just have to find another way to get what I want.”
* * *
Sloan paused for a moment after exiting the elevator, his pulse pounding as he stared at the door to his office suite down the hall. How ironic that after years of sidestepping persistently amorous employees, he now found himself on the other end, wondering how he could go back to acting like a normal boss. Especially when all he wanted was to lay Ziara across his desk and— He coughed to clear his throat. This wasn’t helping.
If only he hadn’t seen those red-rimmed eyes. Knowing how much he’d upset her, when she could usually be counted on as the calm one, put those boundaries firmly back into place. Determined not to cause any embarrassment, he marched forward.
“Good morning, Ziara,” he said as he swept by her desk. “Could you get me the location contract, please?”
“Sure,” she mumbled.
He took that for as good a sign as he was gonna get. They spent the morning focused on the push for the show, smoothing out location details and ordering fabrics Sloan already knew they needed.
Ziara left for lunch at 11:30 a.m. on the dot, but Sloan stayed behind, trying to breathe after a morning of straining to act normal and, honestly, trying to hide his erection. Once he had himself under control, he figured it might be a good idea if he headed down and gave the Old Brigade a heads-up. Patrick was due to be in sometime today, but he hadn’t texted Sloan to let him know when.
Exiting on the third floor, he heard raised voices. Oops. This visit was just a little too late. He eased onto the overlook. Remaining back in the shadows, he studied the scene below. Patrick had arrived and no one was happy about it. Seeing Ziara standing to one side of the fray, he made his way down the staircase and slipped up behind her.
Unable to resist, he leaned in close to her ear. “Did I miss the start of the war?”
In his chest, he felt the shivers that moved down her spine, urging