She snatched the pewter-gray version of the same shirt off a hanger and tugged it on. She needed to walk into that room today and nail the presentation. Forget the past and focus on the future. But her churning stomach wasn’t cooperating.
Her hands fumbled as she pulled the shirt closed and did up the tiny pearl buttons. Would Alexander play nice? And if he didn’t was she now playing Russian roulette with Jared’s future? With this deal? Could she afford to do that? Should she just pull herself out now and accept the fact that her past had caught up with her? Do the right thing?
Her fingers tripped over the buttons, making her curse and focus her concentration. Surely Alexander had better things to do than focus on a bruised ego. He had a major directional partnership to consider for Maison. A company to take the helm of. He would be all business.
The knot in her stomach said differently.
Maybe Jared would fire her first for the inexcusable things she’d said and get it over with.
She shoved the last button through the slippery material with a vicious movement. How could she have kissed him? How could she have done that of all things? She didn’t feel lust like that for men. Didn’t let them close enough to even inspire it because her father had taught her that men were dangerous, unpredictable. Better avoided.
The arrival of their once-a-month welfare check had sent her father on his infamous benders like clockwork, typically ending with him trashing their house and whichever one of them had particularly annoyed him that day. Her mother had shielded them from him when she could, taking the punishment and sending her girls to the neighbors, but that had only made them feel worse when they’d arrived home the next day to a fresh set of bruises on their mother’s face.
Add to that her experience as a dancer, and complete abstinence had been her solution.
A sharp knock on the connecting door brought her head around. She tucked a stray hair back in her chignon, turned and walked over to open it. Storm cloud Jared was in attendance today, his blue eyes crackling with electricity. All business.
“You ready?”
She nodded. “Let me get my notes.”
Her prep stuff was in a pile on the desk. She’d left the notes on top, ready to grab, but last night in her agitation she’d thrown another pile on there and they didn’t seem to be anywhere as she riffled through them, flicking pages upside down.
“Bailey.” She hadn’t realized he’d moved until he was beside her, his hand closing over hers. She looked up at him, teeth tugging at her bottom lip.
“They’re right here, I just can’t—”
“Bailey.” He took the papers out of her hands and put them down on the desk. “Tell me what’s bothering you. Who is Alexander Gagnon to you? We are partners in this. I need to know what’s wrong so we can handle it together.”
She brought her back teeth together before she blew this entirely and pulled her hand free to continue searching for the notes. “He is nothing to me. I told you that.”
“Then why are you a total disaster?”
“I am not a disaster.” She rounded on him fiercely, eyes flashing. “This is personal, Jared, and I won’t have it brought into this.”
His mouth twisted. “Were you there last night? Because I was. Alexander is now the deciding voice in this deal. He did not take his eyes off you all night and then he followed you to the washroom where he was extremely confrontational. So don’t tell me it’s nothing, Bailey. He is an issue. And I won’t have it affecting this deal.”
She sank her hands into her hips. “Then pull me out.”
“I can’t pull you out. Davide adores you. He loves your thinking.”
She pressed her lips together mutinously. She would rather die than tell Jared she’d been a stripper. A man who thought so little of women he’d written a manifesto about their place being in the bedroom. She could only imagine how derogatory he’d be. It made her stomach curl. As did the thought that he wouldn’t want her anywhere near this deal.
He let out a muttered oath, his gaze on her face. “Tell me it wasn’t something illegal. Whatever it is you’re hiding.”
Illegal? She stared at him in disbelief. What the? The flare of anxiety in his eyes, the frown furrowing his brow, made it hit home. His father. Of course he would be afraid of scandal…. Her stomach lurched dangerously. She wanted to tell him, to reassure him it had everything to do with her, but she could not.
She put her hand on his arm, her gaze imploring him. “It’s nothing like that. It’s a personal matter Jared, that’s all. You need to trust me on this.”