The Secret (Single in Seattle 1)

And I like it, too, so I’m not complaining.

“My biggest to-date,” I confirm.

“No pressure here, Liv, but this could garner Oscar attention.”

I don’t flinch as I hold his blue gaze with mine. “I know. And, yes, I’m young, but I can do this. I have an amazing staff who knows what they’re doing. The designs are stunning—even if I’m the one who designed them. Yes, it could definitely get recognized this year. If it turns out the way I think it will, it should be.”

“And that doesn’t make you nervous?”

I shake my head slowly. “No. It’s my job, Mr. Williams.”

His lips twitch with humor. I refuse to call him Dad when I’m at work. I also use my mother’s maiden name professionally, not because I’m not proud to be my father’s daughter, but because I want to be recognized for my talent, not my name.

And Dad understood when I told him so.

“You’re right. The sketches of the designs are great. It’s going to be a visually stunning film. Any hang-ups yet?”

“Only your star.”

His eyes narrow now. “How so?”

I explain about Vaughn missing our appointment yesterday.

“If I can’t get his measurements down to the millimeter, I can’t make the costumes, and he’ll play the part naked.”

“Well, that would be interesting, wouldn’t it? I’m sure it was a scheduling snafu. Have your assistant reach out to his.”

“Already done,” I say with a sigh. “We have most of the other measurements already, and my staff has begun sewing. The budget on this is high. Like, scary expensive. These fabrics aren’t cheap.”

“Nothing on this film is cheap,” he replies easily. “It never is. I don’t see any issues with the budget you’ve proposed here. Filming begins in three months, and we’ll need the costumes a month before that.”

“That’s not a problem.” It’ll be tight, but we’ll be done in time. “Now, let’s talk about the romcom I’ll be working on next month.”

“Liv, I think that’s a lot on your plate.”

I blink up at him. “Excuse me?”

“Two projects at once is a lot for anyone. I don’t expect my directors, actors, sound techs, or anyone else to juggle two projects. They do one at a time.”

“I can handle it.”

He shakes his head, but I dig in my heels.

“It’s not like I have a crazy social life over here, Mr. Williams. I can handle the extra work.”

“Maybe you should have a crazy social life,” he suggests. “You’re twenty-five and already a workaholic.”

“I learned from the best.” I wink at him, and his face softens. “I can take on the romcom. It’s not nearly as technical as the other project, and I won’t be sewing the majority of the costumes. It’s all designer clothes. So, although it’s easier on me, it’s not easier on the budget.”

“Never is,” he repeats. “Okay, show me what you’ve got.”

We spend another thirty minutes going over costume plans before I stand to leave.

“You’re doing an excellent job.”

I grin at him. “Thanks, boss. I’ll see you this weekend for dinner.”

He winks, and I leave his office, walking down the hall to the elevator and then heading down to my floor. We use the entire floor for costumes—and not just for my movies. We have several sewing rooms, a large area designated for climate-controlled storage, places for display, and fitting rooms where actors can try on costumes. It takes a lot of space to make sure the clothes are just right.

My office is in the corner with a view of Seattle. I have plenty of space to do private fittings and measurements in here, which I appreciate because running back and forth to the other fitting areas can eat up a bunch of time, and this is convenient.

I walk through the door to my office and come to an abrupt stop.

Sitting on my freaking desk, his feet dangling, is Vaughn Barrymore. He scowls when he sees me in the doorway.

“You know, you could have let me know that you were going to be late,” he says.

I blink, walk inside, and shut the door, setting the folders and papers in my arms on a shelf before propping my hands on my hips.

“I’m Olivia Conner. I’ll be working with you. Of course, our appointment was scheduled for yesterday, and you didn’t call to reschedule, but I’ll make room in my busy schedule to fit you in. You’re welcome.”

That scowl doesn’t leave his too-handsome-for-his-own-good face. “We did not have an appointment yesterday. It’s today.”

“Yesterday,” I repeat and reach for my measuring tape, trying to ignore the fact that Vaughn might be sexier in person than he is in the movies. “But we can knock it out right now before my next appointment. It won’t take long. Just stand over here.”

Vaughn hops off the desk and stands in the middle of the room. I squat before him, tape in hand to measure his inseam, then frown.