all, it was what Saph had been groomed to do since she could walk.
She’d never envied her sister the responsibility, preferring to indulge her creative side, happy to be the scatty, carefree Seaborn.
Thanks to Sapphie’s bombshell before she had an enforced recuperation, Ruby now had more responsibility than she could possibly want or imagine.
And it made her mad as hell it’d taken her sister’s near breakdown for her to discover the truth.
Throw in Seaborn’s ever-decreasing profit margins as chain stores flourished under a worsening economy, and Maroney Mine doing its best to drive them out of business, and the last few months had sucked.
But she had twelve weeks while Sapphie recuperated to turn Seaborn’s around, twelve weeks to prove to her sister and the rest of the corporate world she wasn’t the flighty airhead they thought, and kick some business butt.
As Ruby moved through the crowd, accepting air-kisses and congratulations for her latest creations, her gaze drifted towards the surly stranger too many times for her liking.
Worse, whenever it did, he was staring straight at her.
Determined to shake the feeling they were inexplicably linked by a force of attraction bigger than the both of them, she flitted from one group to another, laughing at nothing, smiling at anything.
All too soon the event ended and she sagged on a stool in relief. Until her cousin Opal tapped her on the shoulder and shoved a manifesto under her nose.
‘How many pieces did we sell?’
Her heart sank as Opal frowned and shook her head. ‘Not enough.’
‘Damn.’ She snatched the listing and scanned it, the lack of gold foil sale stickers making her stomach gripe with angst.
Seaborn’s was seriously floundering and nothing, even their biggest launch and her best pieces yet, could save it.
Opal squeezed her arm. ‘It’ll be okay.’
Unexpected tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away, not trusting herself to speak until she did. ‘It’ll have to be.’
For Sapphie’s sake, for her sake, for the sake of a family business she had no intention of losing.
Unbeknown to her until recently, Sapphie had made a promise to their mum on her death bed last year when Mathilda Seaborn, the matriarch of Seaborn’s for the last fifteen years, had been pumped full of morphine but completely lucid.
The pancreatic cancer might have ravaged her body but it hadn’t touched her astute business brain; her mum had made Sapphire promise to do whatever it took to make her legacy survive. For them. For their children.
Considering Ruby couldn’t sustain a long-term relationship any longer than Sapphie, nor did she want to, kids were a long way off.
Irrelevant now, with her sister under strict doctor’s orders after collapsing from stress and exhaustion because she’d shouldered a burden they both should’ve shared.
It had been a double shock, learning of Seaborn’s grim financials, and the fact she’d been inadvertently responsible for Sapphie’s collapse.
And she had been, no matter which way she looked at it. She’d always been the indulged Seaborn, the one allowed to follow her dreams and travel and kick back with Sapphie happily shadowing Mum, learning everything she could.
While Sapphie had studied hard to obtain straight As, she’d coasted, lucky to pull her usual Cs up to an occasional B.
While Sapphie had done a master’s in Economics as a foregone conclusion, she’d breezed through an Arts major, not really caring whether she finished or not because she’d already started creating signature pieces for Seaborn’s.
While Sapphie had no social life due to Seaborn’s commitments, she’d danced and partied her way around Melbourne with a hip crowd as laid-back as her.
Little wonder Mum hadn’t trusted her with Seaborn’s viability.
Time to prove her mum and Sapphie wrong.
She might’ve been too self-absorbed in her carefree, creative life before. Now she had a chance to set things right by taking Seaborn’s out of the red and firmly into the black.
Opal nudged her. ‘By the way, we’ve got a hanger-on.’
Ruby glanced over her shoulder in time to see Security hassling Happy Face. The fact he’d waited around made her pulse skitter and she clamped down the urge to grin in triumph despite the dastardly news Opal had just delivered.
Men were so predictable. A little light-hearted flirtation and they thought you’d handed them your heart on a plate.
‘I’ll take care of this.’
Opal frowned as Happy Face glowered at their security guard, towering over him by a foot. ‘Sure?’
‘Yeah, the bigger they are, the harder they fall.’ Opal’s frown eased at her cliché as she hugged her. ‘Thanks for your help, hun, couldn’t have done it tonight without you.’
‘I’ll have to add hostess with the mostest to my geologist credentials.’
Ruby bumped her with her hip. ‘You bet. Now off you go, head home and I’ll take care of our recalcitrant guest.’
Casting one last doubtful glance in Happy Face’s direction, Opal headed out the back.
Ruby squared her shoulders to do battle. The necklace still made her neck itch, her feet ached from wearing stilettos rather than the ballet flats she preferred and the satin sliding over her hips set off some strange static reaction that zapped her at inopportune moments.
Like now, as she strode towards Happy Face, intent on kicking some surly butt.
‘What seems to be the problem here, Fritz?’
Their long-term security guard’s stern expression softened as he turned towards her. They’d always had a bond since he’d slipped her gum drops, her favourite treat all through childhood, when her mum wasn’t looking.
She’d loved coming here as a kid, had loved the glitter and the sparkle and the hush. No way would she lose it.
Fritz gestured towards Happy Face, who glared at her as if his impending eviction were all her fault. ‘This gentleman won’t leave.’
Fritz’s audibly icy gentleman indicated he thought the guy anything but.
Considering her feet ached, her skin still prickled beneath the necklace and she couldn’t wait to slip out of the clingy satin, it was time to revoke her earlier invitation. She didn’t have time to waste flirting with some guy she’d never see again. She had more important things to do, such as come up with another scheme to raise much-needed funds to keep Seaborn’s afloat.
Ready to give the stranger his marching orders, she made the mistake of locking gazes with him again.
Daring sparked
