The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

She stiffened when he put a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re going to want to move that hand.”

He moved it, and sighed. “I wanted to spare you some embarrassment, for old times’ sake. Stick with your minor league websites, Sonya. Ryder’s big league, and you’re just not. Never will be.”

“I’ll give your advice all the consideration it’s due. Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’ve gone over your minute, and that’s all you’re going to get.”

“All that time together, and I really missed how much of a bitch you had in you. Breaking our engagement was the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Jesus, Brandon, you really are pathetic.”

“You’ve already lost, Sonya,” he called out as she walked away. “You never had a chance.”

“We’ll see about that,” she muttered. “We’ll fucking see about that.”

When she reached the conference room, the displays were up, the packets laid out on the long table. Yet another staff member filled water glasses.

“Ms. MacTavish—”

“Sonya.”

“Sonya,” Lauren corrected. “I want to apologize. By Design’s presentation completed nearly forty minutes ago. I had no idea Mr. Wise remained behind.”

“It’s fine. He wanted to give me some advice.”

“Asshole,” Cleo muttered. “Ambush.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sonya repeated.

“In any case, I apologize. Miranda Ryder and the rest you’ll present to are in the executive dining room. Obviously, Mr. Wise wasn’t. They’re due back in about ten minutes. Is there anything I can get you?”

“Just water’s fine. Cleo?”

“That’ll do.”

They set up the slide show for the big wall screen, ran a quick test.

When Lauren went out, Cleo turned to give Sonya a hug. “I’d ask if you’re okay, but you look more than okay.”

“It’s not my alpha and omega, but I want it. He made me want it more.”

“You’ve still got a couple minutes. Want a quick trip to the ladies’ to kick something in those fabulous shoes?”

“Don’t need it. His—ambushfits—energized me, and I’ll use it.”

Burt Springer came in first, a tall, robust man with threads of gray through dark hair and deep-set brown eyes. He strode straight to Sonya and took her hand in both of his.

“Sonya. I wanted a second just to say I’m glad you’re here, and I’m looking forward to seeing your ideas.”

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you giving me the opportunity.”

“You earned it.” He turned to Cleo. “Burt Springer.”

“Cleo Fabares. It’s lovely to meet you. Sonya’s told me how much she enjoyed working with you.”

“It’s mutual.” Then he frowned. “Why is that name so familiar? Now, I know we haven’t met before—how could I forget? Wait! Could you be the Cleo Fabares who illustrated my granddaughter’s favorite book?Jessie’s Best Day?”

“I am.”