“Oh, okay.” I didn’t need to see her face to know that it wasn’t good. “You want me to make the designs less inclusive then?” Even from where I was standing I could hear the woman on the other end backpedaling. “With all due respect, Carrie, I don’t know if I agree that the way we have it now it won’t appeal to a wider audience. There are—”

Her face crumpled at whatever she was hearing and I had never wanted to inflict violence more than in that moment. Someone was hurting the woman I loved by telling her that her beautiful designs weren’t good enough because they didn’t fit their small-minded view of the world.

“Sure, a pop of color, but not so much that it isn’t relatable to everyone,” she echoed woodenly. “I’ll work on it.” She tapped the screen to end the call and let the phone drop on the couch, her eyes focused on something on the wall. She looked crushed.

Without a word I sat next to her on the couch and brought her onto my lap. And if I needed any more evidence to tell me that this phone call had devastated her, the fact that she clung to me would’ve done it.

“What happened?” I asked, pressing a kiss to her forehead, grateful that she was letting me be there for her.

“They want me to make the line ‘more accessible.’” She twitched the two fingers that were on my chest and shook her head. “I knew this would happen. I thought Yazmin would be more of an advocate, and stand up for my vision, but she wasn’t on the call. They liked my design enough to move it to the next round, but they want changes before they take both decks to the executives.” The thought of whatever they’d asked made her look sick. “I am not looking forward to facing off with Kayla.”

“Are you going to do it?” I asked, suspecting the answer.

“I’m not going to get a chance like this again.” She turned those pleading brown eyes on me, asking me for absolution, but I didn’t have it in me to judge her.

“Just promise you’ll let me take care of you when you’re pulling the next round of all-nighters.”

Her wobbly smile got a little wider. I leaned down to kiss her and hoped that the next two weeks didn’t whittle her down to nothing or I was going to have to crack some heads here in Dallas.

Chapter Eighteen

Alba

“What’s wrong with you?” Theo asked as I shuffled out of my room wearing the yoga pants and sweatshirt I’d fallen asleep in after working until almost 3:00 a.m. on yet another round of “tweaks” Carrie had requested.