Page 65 of How Dare You
“Can I have a minute?” I ask when he shifts into park.
“Whatever you need,” he says.
“Everyone is inside, and I am positive Sadie’s been stress baking all day, so there should be good food. I’ll be inside in a few.”
He leans across to kiss me, and it’s not the soft, sweet, comforting kiss I expected, but a fervent claiming instead. “We will get through this together,” he says, then leaves me alone in the car like I asked. Whew. The butterflies in my stomach are a brief reprieve to the twisting knot of dread that’s been there since I checked my phone.
Nathalie’s message is up first. Her voice, that I once found sweet but is now grating, comes through the phone. “Devon! Hi, it’s Nathalie from Live Your Best Life in Palm Springs. I had a question about your time with Trina Boatswain. Give me a call soon.” What question could she possibly have had that brought her to the conclusion that I’m ruining the good name of design in Palm Springs when it went unanswered?
Time to find out.
The blog isn’t overly long, but it is filled with accusations, half-truths, and flat-out lies, all supported with quotes from Trina and strategically placed quotes of mine.
A quote from me, saying “Small commercial projects like bars are some of my favorites because they allow for a different level of creativity.” Followed by a quote from Trina, “The owners of a local bar recently had to hire me to take over a remodel Devon was grossly mishandling. The project was in such disarray, I had to work overtime to get it fixed in time for their opening.” Nathalie follows it up with “Trina declined to share the business name, but she recently finished designs for Lemon + Sway, Canary’s Call, and Persuasion.”
I had nothing to do with Canary’s Call or Persuasion, and frankly I still do not understand what happened with Lemon + Sway. It was going smoothly, and the clients were loving everything until they said their investors wanted to go in a different direction. Now I’m sure Trina did something slimy to steal it from me.
A quote from me, “Working for Trina Boatswain taught me invaluable lessons. She has a wonderful design team, and I am always impressed with their work.” Which I said to be nice because I would never want to speak poorly about someone else publicly, even if it is true. Followed by a quote from Trina, “I took a chance on her straight out of college because of her eagerness to work for me, and it turned out to be one of the few regrets of my career.”
Nathalie alleges that I worked on the Turbine Café project using Trina Boatswain Interior Design resources and time. Not true. I barely slept for months working nights and weekends to make that happen. Next, she says I stole the follow up project up of Voyeur Café from her. Oh, please.
Perhaps the most disturbing part is a lengthy anonymous quote about a house that flooded due to my negligence. She has to be talking about the Calle Vista house, but their insurance is paying for the damages, and I am on good terms with those homeowners. Last I checked, they were working with their plumber to get a final answer on the cause of the leak and how to ensure it won’t happen again. I cannot imagine them throwing me under the bus like this. What point would it serve?
Nathalie wraps the blog up with a quote from me, “Running my own design firm is a dream come true, one I have been working toward my whole life.” Followed by a quote from Trina, “Devon is a sweet girl, and I always thought she was a good designer. But she’s been destroying people’s homes with her lack of experience and skill. I sadly could not in good conscience recommend anyone trust her with their design. It’s important to double-check every detail. With a team as small as Friday West Interiors, there just isn’t enough help to make that happen.”
The whole thing reads like an advertisement for Trina and a complete drag of me and Friday West.
Well, that cured my denial. Now I’m angry and determined.
The front door opens before I have even made it up the driveway. Allie rushes past Rhett, who is evidently the one who saw me coming and opened the door. She wraps me in a tight hug, and I melt into it a little bit. My business may be crumbling before my eyes, but I am not alone. She keeps an arm around my waist as we walk in together.
“So, fuck Trina and Nathalie, right?” Allie’s voice echoes off the driveway and into the street.
I crack a smile, then whisper, “Right.”
Her eyes light up. “You agreed with me? Ooh, you really are pissed. This is excellent.”
“Excellent?” I ask.
“You need to be fired up to kick ass about this,” she says as we walk into the house.
Before anyone else can hug me, console me, or curse my enemies, Rhett wraps his arm around my waist and places a soft kiss to my temple.
My brows shoot up in surprise, and Sadie says, “Aww, you guys!” When I glance to the group, my little living room is stuffed full of my favorite faces, and they are all watching us.
Rhett tilts his head closer to mine. “You told them we’re sleeping together. I figured it’s okay if they see me kiss your forehead.”
“You guys couldn’t be cool for ten minutes? What did you say to him?” I laugh, and it cracks a little of the tension in my chest.
“We had to let him know what’s up,” Sadie says.
“I got a very thorough break your heart and I’ll break your neck talking to,” Rhett tells me as he ushers me to an empty spot on the sectional between Sadie and Bea. “A little surprising since they’re the ones who dropped you in the desert with me in the first place.”
“They are a fierce group of women,” I say, admiring my friends. “You probably shouldn’t cross them.”
“Not just the women,” Rhett’s eyes widen, tilting his head toward Luke who shrugs, grunts, and looks away.
Bea reaches across the sectional and squeezes my hand. “Hey boss lady. Glad to have you back. You ready to dive into this?”