Page 114 of By A Thread

“I had Linus and Shayla in my ear,” I insisted.

“Did you have them in your ear when you got dressed this morning or when you decorated your townhouse?”

“No,” I muttered.

“Look at how much better you, Linus, and Shayla made this,” she said, tapping the spread I did. “You’vebeendoing the job, Dominic. Your father had shit taste and thought he was great. You have great taste and think you’re shit.”

“I’m relying on the opinions of others to do my job.”

“Who said it was supposed to be a dictatorship? Youshouldbe relying on the experience of others. You’re making it a team effort rather than an ego trip. And it works. Look at the next page.”

It was a spreadsheet tracking brand sales of the featured products. “Your layout outsold your father’s by more than double.”

“Our readership grew since he was in charge,” I argued.

“Look. If you want to have a pity party, have a pity party. But sooner or later, you might as well get used to the idea that you can do this job. Your father ruled with poor taste and an iron fist. Your mother let him. Just because you’re doing the job differently doesn’t mean you’re not as good, if not better.”

I flipped to another page. It was traffic stats on some of the web content I’d been in charge of. The video of Brownie French kissing me was one of the most popular videos we’d posted in the last twelve months.

“Why do you have these compiled and ready to go?” I asked, baffled.

“I told you I was going to be the second-best assistant you ever had. What kind of an assistant would I be if I didn’t have a ‘Stop Freaking Out, Boss’ file?”

She started for the door.

“Does this mean you’re speaking to me again?” I asked.

She didn’t even stop. Simply raised a bandaged middle finger over her shoulder. “Nope. Get back to work. Your pouty time is cutting into my to-do list.”

39

Ally

“How do we want to look tonight?” Linus mused, tapping a finger to his chin.

We were staring into the depths ofLabel’sCloset. Usually, I would be willing to take whatever would zip and hold in my boobs. But tonight I wanted something more.

“We want to feel beautiful and fierce,” I decided. “Have any miracles up your sleeve to accomplish that?” It would take one. A bright, shiny miracle given how I’d spent the past few months feeling like a garbage bag of a human being.

First I’d been a stripper, then I’d almost let my father get evicted from his nursing home, and finally I’d made a deal with the devil just to keep my little family afloat.

Linus looked me up and down and raised a skeptical, well-groomed eyebrow. “Would you settle for reasonably attractive and moderately assertive?”

“I would not.”

“Hmm.”

“Don’t do your hummy ‘it would take a miracle’ thing with me, Linus. I know you’ve got something up that fabulous sleeve of yours.”

With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he yanked a garment bag off a rack.

“Well, since you mentioned it…”

“What is it?”

“Don’t ask questions. Go get dressed because you know we’re going to need at least an hour on your makeup and that rat’s nest you call hair.”

Rolling my eyes, I took the bag and the criticism and headed into the restroom.