Chapter 8

Eight

S neaking out of Tristan’s house before the sun came up wasn’t something Daphne had planned, but she was an early riser—no matter how little sleep she got—and she had a to-do list a mile long. She considered leaving him a note, but she didn’t want to rummage around trying to find paper and a pen.

“I’ll text him when I get home,” she whispered as she quietly let herself out the front door. Seeing her work van in the driveway made her groan. It was cold out and it took forever for the heat to really do its job because of the open space. At some point today, she’d have to get her car. “One more thing for the list.”

The drive home was short, and it felt weird to be coming home at this hour in her clothes from the night before. She’d never been someone who spent the night at a guy’s house and left in the morning. Typically, it was the other way around and she kind of didn’t like it.

“Ugh…I should have stayed.”

But that would have meant staring at the ceiling for who knows how long and worrying about how awkward things were going to be when Tristan woke up.

And there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that things were going to be awkward. You didn’t go from being enemies to lovers without some awkwardness. Just like her snarky comment while they were eating sandwiches in bed, there were things you couldn’t just turn off because you’d had sex.

No matter how freaking hot the sex was.

Tristan Knight was a powerful man who was fully focused on his business. He had a commanding personality and was full of confidence.

Luckily for her, all those qualities also applied in the bedroom.

The dreamy sigh was out before she could stop it. She’d always been a woman who enjoyed sex, but sex with a man who seemed consumed with giving pleasure rather than just receiving it was a whole different ballgame.

Sadly, she had a feeling Tristan was going to be the standard to which she held every other man she got involved with in the future.

And sadder still was that she honestly didn’t see this as being a relationship that went beyond the holiday season. They were too different and their reason for initially coming together forced a proximity that never would have developed. At some point, they were going to go back to their normal lives—she’d put her gingerbread house back in storage and return to working on building her web design business, and he’d probably build something impressive in the city.

Sighing, she pulled up to her house. It looked a little dark and it felt weird to be coming home at this hour. When she opened the door, the sight of her Christmas tree and all the decorations in her living room greeted her, making her smile as always. She hung stockings over her little fireplace even though it was just her, and there was already a small mountain of presents under the tree for friends and family. It was tempting to plug it all in so everything would be lit up, but…was it really necessary?

“Screw it. I’m doing it.” So she plugged in the tree and then the garland with the twinkly lights on her mantle. Stepping back, just the sight of it made her heart happy. “That’s better.”

Walking into the bedroom, kicking off her shoes was the top priority. Next, she stripped off her dress and moved into the bathroom to take a shower so she could officially start her day. Cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, getting her car back from her mom, and planning out all her prep work for this week’s baking were on the agenda.

“Probably need to add a nap to that.”

The reality was that she probably wouldn’t take one, but it was nice to pretend.

Wrapped in a towel, she stepped out of the too-quick shower and immediately sprang into action. She stripped the bed and put her sheets in the wash. After that, she pulled on her robe and brushed her teeth, applied some moisturizer, and dried her hair. Once that was done, she allowed herself to sit down with a cup of coffee so she could work on her baking schedule.

Everything was peaceful—the perfect way to start the weekend.

Until someone started knocking loudly on her front door.

“What the…?” Putting her mug down, Daphne went to the door and was about to look through the peephole when…

“Daphne? I know you’re here,” Tristan called out between angry knocks. “I’m not opposed to waking up your neighbors!”

Rolling her eyes, she yanked the door open and pulled him inside. “Stop being so loud! What is wrong with you? Don’t you have any respect for anyone other than yourself?”

“Good Lord,” he said with a hint of disgust when he looked around. “Why is this entire place lit up like this? It’s barely seven a.m., Daphne. Do you really need to be in the middle of a Christmas display at all times?”

This was getting them nowhere. “Why are you here? Didn’t you get my text?”

“What text?” he demanded, pulling his phone from his pocket. After a moment of tapping and scrolling, he held it up to her. “No text.” Raking a hand through his hair, he let out a huff of annoyance. “I never pegged you for a woman who snuck out in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, good grief…” Without a word, she went back to the kitchen and sat back down. Naturally, he followed. “I meant to send a text,” she said wearily. “I told myself I’d do it when I came home, but then I got distracted and took a shower, started laundry, and once I sat down with my coffee, I was solely focused on work. I’m sorry.”

He sank down onto the chair opposite hers. “I don’t get it. Why’d you leave?”

It was only the second time he’d ever sounded this vulnerable, and it shamed her that she had essentially run off without an explanation.

“I wake up early every day. Even on my days off,” she told him. “There was no way I was going to wake you up just because I was awake, so that would have meant staring at the ceiling for at least a couple of hours with nothing to do but worry about how awkward things were going to be when you woke up.” Sighing, she felt miserable saying the words out loud. “We got caught up in the whole play-acting thing. We both know that we never would have ended up in bed together without…you know…the fake dating.”

His head lolled back briefly before he looked at her. “I get what you’re saying and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it that way too. It sounds wrong, though. You probably won’t believe this, but…I’m not that shallow. I don’t sleep with a woman just for the sake of sleeping with her.” Pausing, he gave her a lopsided grin. “I know it’s what maybe led us there, but I genuinely wanted to be with you.”

“Tristan…”

“Look, I get it. I’ve been rude and disrespectful, but you’ve been a bit of a pain in the ass too.”

She rolled her eyes so hard she swore she saw her own brain. “If by pain in the ass you mean I was merely trying to earn a living, then yes. I’ve been a pain in the ass.”

“You know you’ve argued with me just as much…”

“I was defending myself!” she argued. “You instantly disliked me because you felt my business wasn’t classy enough for your building! A building you don’t own or manage and one where no one else has a problem! Gah! You are so annoying!” Jumping to her feet, she paced for several moments and thankfully, he didn’t say anything. “No matter what you think of me right now, the one thing I’m not is a poor hostess. Would you like a cup of coffee?” Turning her back, she took a mug down from the cabinet. When she turned again, Tristan was right there, caging her in against the countertop.

“Okay, we will have to agree to disagree on a few things. I can’t help how I feel and as an architect, it’s all about lines and symmetry and how things look. Well, they’re not everything, but they’re very important. I happen to love the lobby of that building. It’s sleek and elegant and…” He shrugged. “I get that this is only for two months and I need to just let it go. I’m working on it, I swear.”

“But…”

He grinned. “But…you can’t tell me that you haven’t gotten a little bit of perverse joy out of making your gingerbread house almost comically…it’s…it’s a bit of an eyesore. I’m sorry!”

Being offended was the obvious choice for a reaction, but knowing how uptight and rigid he was about things—and looking at it all from his architectural viewpoint—she supposed she could see why he hated her booth so much.

“Fine. I did get a little bit of pleasure knowing how much you were going to hate the decorations and the music,” she murmured. “But I was only rude to you when you were rude first.”

Luckily, he nodded. “You’re right and I apologize.”

“Thank you.” They were standing so close, and she could feel the heat radiating off of him. His hair was a bit of a mess, his jaw was heavily stubbled, and she just knew that he had rolled out of bed and directly came looking for her.

It was kind of a turn on.

Ugh…what is it with me?

“So, um…coffee?”

The lopsided—and yet somehow sexy—grin was back. “That depends.”

“On?”

“Do you happen to have any muffins? Blueberry in particular.”

Her lips twitched. “I might have one or two of them in the freezer. It wouldn’t take much to defrost it in the microwave.”

“I would like that, but…after,” he said gruffly, before leaning in and trailing soft kisses along her jaw.

“Mmm…after?” Daphne’s eyes drifted shut as she shivered with delight. Tristan pressed his body up against hers as his hands toyed with the tie of her robe.

“Here or the bedroom?” he murmured against her throat. “I’m not fussy, but I need you. Now.”

Oh, my…

She’d never had sex anywhere other than a bed, so she was a little na?ve about how things would work here in the kitchen.

But she was more than willing to find out.

“Here,” she panted. “Now. Please.”

In the blink of an eye, he had her robe untied and he lifted her onto the counter. Stepping between her thighs, the look he gave her told her she was going to enjoy every minute of this. Swallowing hard, she told herself to relax and let Tristan take charge.

And he did.

Again and again and again.

“Seriously, when do you rest?”

They were tangled up in her bed—minus the sheets, but under her comforter—and her head rested on his shoulder. “Next month,” she told him. “My plan is to work as hard as I can until the end of December and then I can relax a bit. On January first, I’ll take down the gingerbread house and put it back in storage, and then I’ll return to working on my web design business full-time. Knowing there’s a light at the end of the tunnel makes it all tolerable.”

“I know we’ve discussed this briefly before, but why don’t you have your own bakery? You can clearly tell that people love what you do. Why not do it full-time?”

Laughing softly, she admitted, “Because I’m afraid of the risk. It costs a lot of money to start up something like that. The setup in your building isn’t ideal because there’s no way I could bake there, but if I had a kitchen in the same place I was selling, I think it could work…like a coffee shop inside an office building or something.” Shrugging, she added, “But for right now, everyone loves what I’m doing because it’s a great wintery treat and they’re ordering stuff for all the holiday parties they’re going to. I’m not sure business would be that steady year-round.”

“I guess that’s possible, but…”

“And renting a storefront and opening an actual bakery requires a lot of capital, along with long hours that never seem to end. With this situation, I know it will be crazy for two months and then my life returns to normal.”

“Yeah, but this is what you love, right? Baking? Is web design your dream job or something you’re doing to pay the bills until you can open a bakery?”

“That was sort of the plan, and the bakery really is something I want more than anything, but sometimes my own insecurities get the better of me.”

“We all have them. I mean…look at me. I’ve designed a lot of homes and buildings and yet I can’t get a building in the one place I want it. So instead of being proud of all of my accomplishments, all I seem to focus on is the one failure.”

“It’s not a failure, Tristan. It can still happen.”

“Maybe. It doesn’t feel like it though. You still have hope and a real chance of opening the bakery.” He kissed the top of her head. “Especially after all the extra money you’re making from my parties.”

Laughing, she tried to pull away, but he held her close. “Stop. I wasn’t really going to hold you to that. You were desperate and just saying things to get me to help.” Looking up at him, she sobered a bit. “I probably would have caved even without the promise of doubling my pay. You can be very persuasive when you want to be.”

Grinning, he pulled her even closer. “I’d like to be persuasive right now…” Once again, he rolled her under her and kissed her until they were both breathless.

“Consider me completely persuaded. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

All signs of joking disappeared. “You, Daphne. I just want you.”

Aww…

Her hand raked through his disheveled hair. “You have me.”

A curt nod was his only response before he kissed her again.

It was a bitch of a week.

Nothing had gone right. Contracts were delayed, one job that was due to start construction had lost its financing, and the boutique hotel decided to put the project on hold until the spring. To say he was in a foul mood would be an understatement.

So naturally, tonight would be his office holiday party.

Everyone was barely in the mood to work—which only annoyed him more—and Faye had to finally tell him to just stay in his office until the party started. He took extreme offense at being reprimanded, but he knew himself well enough to realize she was probably right.

But he didn’t have to like it.

So he read through some emails and looked into a few potential new clients. There was one in particular who really intrigued him. They were looking to build a luxury condo building, but the entire lower level would be retail space for things like a spa, a restaurant, a coffee shop, and a clothing boutique. At least those were what they were hoping for. On top of that, for the residents, they wanted a gym, workspace, common areas, and outdoor living spaces. The project really appealed to him, and ideas were already beginning to come to him.

Going to his drafting table, Tristan began doing some preliminary sketches.

He’d lost track of time, but clearly several hours had gone by because when he looked up, Daphne was knocking on his office door, looking slightly frazzled. Letting out a long breath, he asked, “Are you okay?”

Her ponytail was askew, she had on almost no makeup, and her snowman sweatshirt had…something on it. He felt himself cringe, and her reaction was a hard glare. “It’s been a rough day,” she snapped as she walked toward him. “Everything is up here and basically set up. Faye is fine-tuning everything.”

“What’s on your shirt?”

Her scowl deepened. “There was an incident with a tray of cupcakes. Luckily, I brought extra, so…”

“What kind of incident?”

“It doesn’t matter. The menu is intact and exactly what you ordered. Your staff all looked very excited about everything, so I hope you have a great party. Have a good night.”

When she turned to walk away, Tristan jumped to his feet to stop her. “Wait a minute.” With his hand on her arm, he carefully spun her toward him. “What’s going on? You’re not staying?”

“It’s been a long day,” she said wearily. “I’m really not dressed for a party. I’ve got frosting all over me. And besides, this party is for all your employees. You don’t need me here.” Taking a step back, she gave him a forced smile. “Go and have a nice evening with your staff. I know they all work hard and it’s nice when the boss shows them some appreciation.” Another pause. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They had hardly seen each other all week. After he showed up at her house Saturday morning, they spent the entire day and night together. When he left on Sunday, they simply said they’d see each other at work. Unfortunately, he’d had a lot of meetings and all the disappointments he was obsessing about earlier, and by the time he went down to see her in the afternoon, she was gone for the day. They’d texted a bit, but their schedules just weren’t in sync.

It was maddening, and now she wasn’t staying for the party.

Reaching for her hand, he stopped her again. “Stay. Please. It would mean a lot to me.”

“Tristan…”

Gently, he tugged her close. “I’ve missed you. I know I’ve been busy and you have too, but I was looking forward to you being here tonight.”

“I…I really can’t. I’m a mess. And considering how uncomfortable you were with my Mrs. Claus dress, I’m sure having me hang out here tonight looking like this would freak you out.”

She wasn’t lying, but…

“You can freshen up here,” he told her. “I have the en suite. You can shower and do whatever you need to do.” His arms wrapped around her waist.

“Tristan, don’t!” she cried, pulling away. “You’ll get frosting all over your shirt!”

“I don’t care. That’s how much I want you to stay.”

The look she gave him was full of doubt. “You have extra shirts here, don’t you?”

It wasn’t a question.

“I do, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with the frosting if it proves to you how much I want you here.”

“I don’t know…”

“And what exactly happened with the cupcakes?” The curiosity was killing him.

A huff of annoyance was her initial response. “Ugh…fine. I was carrying the tray of cupcakes in and one of your employees turned the corner and ran into me. He was looking at his phone and didn’t see me, so…” She shrugged. “Faye rushed over to help me and I called down to my mother and had her prepare a replacement tray. Luckily, Faye didn’t mind going down to the lobby and getting them.”

It was his turn to pull back. “And the employee who ran into you? Did he stop and help you clean up?”

“Um…”

“Daphne, you can tell me. If someone who works for me was that disrespectful, then I need to know.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

Now he huffed. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he asked, “Do you have a change of clothes with you?”

“I told you…”

He repeated the question.

“Yes.”

“In your car or the booth?”

“Car.”

Nodding curtly, he said, “Why don’t you use the restroom? Take a shower, wash up, whatever you want to do. I’ll go down and get your things.”

“My mother can get my bag from the car and give it to you. I’ll text her and let her know you’re coming down.”

Another nod. “Thank you.”

He waited for her to tap out the text and then watched her go into the bathroom. Once the door was shut, he stormed from his office and went directly to Faye’s desk. “Who ran into Daphne?”

She frowned at him. “Collins. And he was such a jerk about it. He was completely at fault—wasn’t looking where he was going—and then acted like it was beneath him to help her clean up. I felt so bad for Daphne.” She watched him for a moment. “Do you want to talk to him?”

“Not right now. I’m going downstairs to get Daphne’s things from her mother. She’s in my office and not to be disturbed.”

If anything, she seemed to approve. “No worries.” They were saved from having to say more by the phone ringing.

Tristan had met Daphne’s mother last weekend when she delivered the food for the party, but other than exchanging a few pleasantries, they didn’t really know each other.

When he stepped off the elevator in the lobby and made his way over to her booth, he could see Mrs. Noelle looking at him oddly. Smiling, he walked up to the counter. “Hey, Mrs. Noelle. Daphne said she had a change of clothes out in her car. Might I get the keys so I can grab them for her?”

“Of course, but…why doesn’t she just call it a day? We’re all packed up here and she said she was eager to go home.” Her eyes narrowed a bit. “She mentioned that you weren’t going to need her help with this party.”

“Oh, uh…she just has such a gift,” he gushed, hoping his smile was sincere. “My assistant is usually great when we host our office parties, but Daphne just has a way of putting everyone at ease.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Why would your employees need to be put at ease? Don’t they like you? Daphne mentioned how you gave her a lot of grief since her booth went up.”

“Yes, well…we’ve moved past that.” Sort of. “And after seeing the way she handled my last two parties, it’s just comforting to have her there.”

Carolyn Noelle was a petite woman with short, silvery blonde hair. There was nothing that should have been intimidating about her, and yet right now, Tristan felt a little intimidated.

“My daughter is the most hardworking, talented woman I know,” she began firmly. “She may be an adult, but that doesn’t mean the mama bear in me isn’t prepared to come out when someone upsets here.” She leaned over the counter a bit. “And you have definitely upset her. I get that this whole setup is outlandish, but it’s the holidays and people love it.”

All he could do was nod.

“For whatever reason, she’s agreed to work for you. But I’m going to give you a little advice.” Then she looked at him expectantly.

“And that is…?”

“Daphne puts her whole heart into everything she does. She takes care of the people who mean something to her. Don’t take advantage of that. I get that having her at your little party might make your life easier, but she’s entitled to have some time for herself as well. Don’t make her regret being kind and helping you out.” Straightening, she crossed her arms. “And don’t you dare break her spirit. This whole holiday booth thing isn’t exactly practical, but it’s the only way she knows how to work toward her dream of opening her bakery.”

Okay, since they were talking about it…

“May I ask why you think she hasn’t? We’ve talked about it, but it seems like she’s got all the pieces except the confidence.”

Her shoulders sagged a bit. “That’s exactly the problem. So many people have tried to put her down…”

And yeah, the pointed look she gave him spoke volumes.

“And it takes her a long time to get over it and believe in herself again. She’ll get there when she’s ready. For now, this booth gives her so much joy.” She turned fierce again. “So stop giving her grief about it!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed. “May I have the keys?”

Nodding, she turned away and grabbed them along with Daphne’s purse—something he hadn’t thought about, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain about having to carry it.

“Tell my daughter I’ve cleaned up and loaded everything into the van. It’ll be at the rental kitchen.”

“Thank you. I will. Have a good night, Mrs. Noelle.”

“You too. And enjoy your party.”

That had taken far longer than he had thought, so he raced out to Daphne’s car and grabbed the weekender bag that was on the back seat. Back in the building, he made a beeline for the elevators and was relieved when one opened right away. Up on the twenty-eighth floor, he strode across the main office without acknowledging anyone. At his own office, he stepped in and closed the door behind him. When he approached the bathroom, he heard the shower running and wondered if he should wait or let her know he was there.

Ultimately, he decided to knock. “Daphne? I have your bag! Sorry it took so long, but I talked with your mother for a few minutes.”

“What?” she called out over the running water.

“I have your bag!” he repeated. “I’m sorry if it took so long! I’ll leave it right here outside the door!”

“Is that you, Tristan? I can’t hear you!”

As much as he wanted to respect her privacy, he also couldn’t keep yelling through the door. Letting out a long breath, he carefully opened the door—merely peeking inside—and said, “I have your bag. I’ll just leave it here by the door.”

Just then, the water shut off and she peeked out from behind the frosted glass. “Thank you.” She looked a little like a drowned rat, and yet he still thought she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. “Can you please hand me a towel?”

Nodding, he stepped into the room and shut the door to protect her privacy before handing her the towel. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” She dried her hair and then asked for the second towel and wrapped it around her body before stepping out of the shower. “That felt far better than I thought it would. At first I thought I’d just wash up, but the thought of putting on nice clean clothes when I was feeling grimy after running around all day was just a giant no. So again, thank you.”

“It was my pleasure. And I want to apologize again for my employee. That was completely unacceptable.”

“It’s fine, Tristan. It wasn’t your fault.” She walked over and grabbed her bag and balanced it on the vanity. First, she pulled out a cosmetics case and put on moisturizer. Then she turned and looked at him. “Um…this feels weird with you watching me get ready. I mean…I appreciate you running out to my car and all that, but…”

He felt his face heat. “God, I’m sorry. I must look like some sort of creeper. I was just standing here fascinated as I watched you. You’re breathtaking, Daphne.”

Now he saw her blush. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I know I don’t, but it’s the truth. You’re standing there in a towel with little water droplets scattered all over you, and all I want is to lean in and lick some of them away.”

So not the time for that…

A soft hum was her initial response, but she surprised him by moving in close and dropping the body towel to the floor. Her name was a whispered plea even as he began kissing her bare shoulders before moving down her body. Part of him knew this was wrong, but she was pure temptation. He swore he’d be quick and simply show her how sexy and desirable she was. And minutes later, when she was breathlessly sagging against him, he knew he’d proved his point.

Wrapping the towel back around her, he kissed her softly on the lips. “Take your time. I’ll wait for you out in my office.”

She looked a little dazed. “I don’t even know what time it is. How long until the party starts?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“Tristan…”

Sighing, he looked at his watch. “Fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll be ready.”

And sure enough, she was.

Tonight’s dress was a red jersey knit. It hugged her curves in an understated, yet elegant way. Her long hair was loose and wavy, and Tristan was already thinking about taking her home with him and peeling that pretty dress right off of her.

“I hope this is okay,” she said as she stepped out of the bathroom. “It’s not as over the top as the Mrs. Claus dress, but I thought it was still pretty festive.”

“You look beautiful. Now let’s go mingle,” he said, taking her hand in his.

“I need to check the displays,” she quietly told him. “When I went into your office, everything was pretty much set up, but I know Faye was doing stuff and we have some extra stock in the break room. I’d like to make sure everything’s where it needs to be since you didn’t require servers for this party.”

“This is small and it’s just the office. Next week’s event at my father’s office, though…”

“Four servers,” she said with a nod. “We’re all set there.”

“There are four times the employees…”

“Tristan?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s not a competition.”

The smile she gave him was sweet and reassuring, plus it made him realize he was tensing up.

“I know you’re right. Sorry.” For the next few minutes, he essentially followed her around while she made a few tweaks to the displays, and they chatted with everyone as they moved from table to table.

“Everything looks great,” he told her. “Very festive.” And it was the truth. Somehow, she and Faye had turned the office into a holiday wonderland in a short amount of time. There was music playing, and it seemed like his staff were enjoying themselves.

“Outstanding!” someone called out. “She got more cupcakes! Hopefully she didn’t just scrape the dirt off of the ones she dropped, right?” Laughter followed.

Beside him, he felt Daphne stiffen and knew what he needed to do.

Smiling, he caught Faye’s attention and waved her over. “Daphne, Faye had mentioned us doing a weekly breakfast for the office—you know, muffins and whatnot—and I wasn’t sure what else we could do. Could you talk to her about that?”

“Right now?” she asked. “Seriously?”

He shared a look with Faye before turning back to her. “Definitely. And not just through the end of the month but moving forward into the new year.” Pausing, he smiled. “Now, if you two will excuse me for a moment, I see someone I need to speak to.”

But Daphne wasn’t fooled. “Tristan…don’t. Please.”

Kissing her cheek, he whispered, “I’ll be right back,” before making his way across the room to where Jeff Collins was standing, eating a cupcake. Stepping up beside him, he said, “Jeff? A word?”

“Sure, boss! What’s up?” his face lit up like he was expecting good news. Normally, Tristan gave our bonuses and congratulated everyone on a great year at the holiday party. Jeff was undoubtedly expecting a pat on the back for a job well done.

Well, he’s about to be wildly disappointed.

Tristan wasn’t even going to take him to his office. Instead, he simply pulled him aside and did his best to mimic Daphne’s mom and look intimidating. “Earlier, I heard you knocked into Daphne while she was bringing in the food for the party,” he began.

Shrugging, Jeff said, “She wasn’t looking where she was going.” Then he laughed softly. “It looked like half of them smashed into her sweatshirt—which, between you and me, was an improvement—and the rest fell on the floor. I was dealing with a client and was trying to get back to my desk. Why? She’s not trying to say she’s hurt, is she? Because I barely touched her.”

“No, she’s not saying you hurt her. Actually, she didn’t say anything about you. However, I believe you just explained everything.”

This time, Jeff smiled like he was being complimented. “Just doing my job, boss. Oh, and by the way, the Maxwells want to see other options for their house design. They didn’t approve the one I presented. The wife is a real pain in the ass. Very picky. I know I’m going to end up doing multiple sketches until her husband picks one.”

Nodding, Tristan replied, “That’s fine. I’d like you to hand their file over to Shawn. I think he’ll be a better fit.”

“Wait…why?”

“It’s become quite clear that you have zero respect for people—especially women. I can’t have someone like you representing this firm. You can either get your attitude right or you can look for a new job.”

“Tristan—Mr. Knight—are you serious right now? It was a plate of cupcakes! No one got hurt and it wasn’t a big deal! It wasn’t like I was rude to her…”

“Witnesses say otherwise.”

Jeff mumbled something under his breath, but Tristan definitely caught the word “bitch.”

“You know what? I’d like you to clear out your desk.” Tristan watched the play of emotions on the other man’s face.

“But…that’s not fair! You’re taking the baker’s side over mine? Seriously? You did nothing but bitch about her for the first few weeks she was here!” He huffed with agitation. “You can’t fire me because she was clumsy and dropped a plate of food! I’ll sue you for wrongful termination!”

It was an empty threat and Tristan knew it. “You could try, but I have a feeling there are plenty of other women who feel you’ve disrespected them.” He paused for a moment. “Or…you can apologize—sincerely—to Daphne. But you’ll still relinquish the Maxwell project and you’ll be on probation. I’ll have to approve anyone you work with moving forward until you prove that you’ve changed and I can trust you again.”

Then Tristan stood there and simply waited. There was a part of him that sincerely believed Jeff would apologize and agree that he had been out of line.

Instead, he murmured, “Screw you. I don’t need this shit.” Tossing his plate with a half-eaten cupcake on the floor, he stormed away. Several people around them had grown quiet and stared, but it was what it was.

Shrugging, Tristan went back to join Daphne and Faye who clearly witnessed the whole thing as well and were both staring at him in disbelief.

“That’s not the kind of person I want representing Knight Architects.” Reaching for Daphne’s hand, he added, “And while you were definitely part of the equation, you weren’t the only piece, so…relax.”

“Should I call security?” Faye asked quietly.

“It couldn’t hurt. Thank you.”

He was about to suggest they get something to eat when Daphne carefully pulled him back toward his office and tugged him inside. “Why would you do that in the middle of your party?”

“Because he was rude—and not just to you. I’d simply had enough.”

She sighed. “Tristan, I appreciate the sentiment, but there was a time not so long ago that you were exactly the same way. You nearly ran into me one day. Luckily, I had just put down a tray of cupcakes, but when I confronted you, you blamed me.” Sadly, she added, “It seems like you’ve got a bit of a double standard.”

“I’ll admit that my behavior toward you in the past was…awful.” And it pained him to remember just how bad it was. “I don’t have an excuse. All I know is that I learned from it, and I refuse to make excuses or allowances for others who behave that way. I…I’m sorry for all the times I hurt you, but I’m not sorry for calling out someone else who did.”

Her expression was fairly closed, so he had no idea if she was mad or sad or…anything. He could have easily continued to plead his case, but it seemed better for him to wait.

After a moment, she spoke. “Thank you for the apology. I think everyone is probably wondering where you are. We should get back out there.”

She turned to walk away, but Tristan reached for her. “Are we okay?” he carefully asked.

Thankfully, she smiled. “We’re good, Tristan. Now let’s go celebrate with your staff.”

He didn’t understand how she could continually be so forgiving toward him, but he was certainly thankful for it.