I wave her forward, and she puts the thin stack on my desk.
“Thank you, Lauren.” I nod at her, giving her a smile. “I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”
“Thank—thank you, Mr. Hunter,” she says, the relief obvious in her face.
When the door closes behind her retreating back, I’m already deep into the summary details.
The numbers don’t look good.
In fact, they look dismal.
Website traffic has fallen, ad revenue is on the decline for both the print and web properties, and subscriptions are down.
Basiqué was supposed to be a powerhouse.
As it stands, it’s barely supporting itself.
I sigh, resigning myself to keeping it alive with influxes of cash…for the space of three heartbeats.
No.
I cannot let Cate cloud my judgment.
This is exactly the kind of bullshit that I’ve been trying to avoid for years.
It’s far too late to convince myself that I don’t love her.
It’s not too late to stop my feelings from influencing my business decisions, however, even if it means closing her beloved magazine. If it comes to that and she leaves me over it…
That’s just the risk I have to take.
First things first. Sarzó needs to know that Basiqué is hanging by a thread. So is her career, and by extension, so are the most important dreams of the woman I love.
This meeting should be a thrill.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Cate
Sandra is on a rampage.
She’s been on a rampage since last week, when Jax came into her office as she was about to leave, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He didn’t even look at me as he came through the outer office, and he wasn’t the least bit apologetic for making Sandra late for her son’s music camp performance.
Since then, things at Basiqué have been frenetic. I’ve been in the office at 7:00 every morning because Sandra is in at 7:30. The stream of meetings is ceaseless. The orders she barks at me never stop.
On Wednesday Bryce stops at my desk, breaking away from his group of models for next month’s military wear feature.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
“Hi, Bryce,” I say, typing Sandra’s latest schedule changes furiously into my calendar. The scheduling and re-scheduling is constant.
“Things seem a little….tense around here. Do you get that vibe?”
He stands close enough to talk but not so close that we could be accused of wasting time, something that’s frowned upon during the best of times at Basiqué.
“Yes. I do get that vibe. Very much so,” I tell him, finally reaching the end of the list. Not that it matters. Next time I go back into Sandra’s office, she’ll have another list. My fingers ache. Grabbing the notepad, I come around to the front of the desk to stand by Bryce.
“So what’s the breakdown?” he says in a low tone. “Is this place going under?”
“What makes you say that?”
He shoots me a skeptical look. “Don’t play innocent with me, Cate Schaffer. If something’s up around here, you’d know about it.”
“All I know is that Sandra wasn’t thrilled with how the last issue did.”
“Is that why she’s stacking all these meetings? To try and balance it out with the next one?”
I rub my forehead, trying to get rid of some of the tension between my temples. “I don’t see what else she could be doing.”
Bryce lowers his voice to a near-whisper. “Cate…we’re close friends.”
I let out a quiet laugh. “If people who only meet near this desk can be considered friends.”
“We’re best friends.” He’s wearing an impish expression.
“Sure, Bryce.”
“So why haven’t you told me that you’re dating the new owner of this joint?”
In an instant, all the playful warmth I felt from taking time to chat with Bryce vanishes. I whip my head around, eyes narrowed, voice tight and sharp. “Who told you that?”
His eyes widen at my tone. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to him that way before, and I immediately feel like shit for doing it.
“I’m…I’m sorry, Bryce. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just—did someone say something to you?”
“No,” he says, looking at me warily. “Haven’t you noticed?”
“Noticed what?”
“People have been feeling the pressure for a while now, what with all the rescheduling, and—” He shakes his head. “Nobody wants to be late, and nobody wants to miss anything, so a lot of work has been going on in the meeting rooms. You haven’t seen me there?”
God, I’m such a bitch.