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Shit. Swarovski did not fuck around. They’d know where it came from.
“Les Montcharion,” Mandy added, putting her stone away.
“Right,” Selma said, fisting her rhinestone. “He said it was a custom run
from 1998. Big order, but defective.”
Shit.
Shit shit shit.
“Logan,” I said softly as he signed the bill, “we have to go.”
“For Basile actually.” Selma turned to me.
Logan’s hand froze. My heart stopped.
“Wasn’t that your dad, Ella?” Mike asked as if he hadn’t been paying
attention to a damn thing we’d been saying. “Maybe someone working for
him did the house project?”
“Maybe.” I took my napkin from my lap and pushed out my chair.
“I called to ask,” Selma said, “but Bianca stonewalled.”
“Nicely, I’m sure,” Mandy said in a thickly sarcastic tone.
“Excuse me,” I muttered as I took my bag off the back of the chair. “I
have to run to the ladies’.”
Leaving them, I passed the hallway to the bathrooms and wound up at
the elevators with a pounding heart. I hit the button down and ground my
teeth when the doors didn’t open right away.
“Ella,” Logan said.
“Leave me be.” The elevator came and I got in.
“No,” Logan said, standing beside me.
“I just want to go home.” The doors closed and we descended.
“I’ll send for the car.”
“No! I mean home. Home. Not your house.”
“Then I’ll take you there.”
I couldn’t bear being in an enclosed space with him longer than I had to
be. He’d try to fix it all. He’d promise me the world, but the world wasn’t in
the contract. Being his wife was what I’d promised and it was the thing that
had halted my career and stolen my vision.
The doors opened onto the lobby floor, and I stalked out, knowing with
every step that he was beside me. When I got to the curb, I tapped my
phone for a car.
“Ella.” Logan got right in front of me. “What happened?”
“What happened?” I entered the address of the warehouse on Highland.
“I told you no. I said ‘no Selma Quintero’ and you didn’t listen.”