Read Online The Revolution by S.L. Scott - Free Book Online
Authors: S.L. Scott
Tags: Contemporary
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breakable. Perfect and small.”
I know in my heart he didn’t mean to. I’m just… small. Easily hurt.
He didn’t mean to hurt me.
A GRANDE COFFEE is set down on my desk, and Lane, my lead designer slash assistant, says, “You were late. How is that possible when you live here?”
“Good morning to you too, Lane. I needed a coffee that I didn’t have to make.” I needed to get tested for STDs because of Mark’s philandering, and thankfully, my doctor’s office squeezed me in. That’s the truth I’ll lie about this morning. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Hey. What’s with the throwback to Madonna “Like a Virgin” and bangle days?” He leans against the desk while I finish attaching a swatch to the board, my bracelets jingling. “Are we not talking about it?”
“About what?” I look up at him, hoping my wide-eyed innocent expression will throw him off the scent.
He walks around behind me and hovers over my shoulder, judging the board with a silent chin rub. “New client?”
It worked. “Yep.”
Moving back to the chair in front of my desk, he sits, and crosses his legs as he would say, “at the ankles like a proper lady.”
“Fine, I’ll drop harping on the ’80s wardrobe throwback so you can fill me on the client.”
“Kaz Fabian.”
“ Ooohhh , Kaz Fabian. I like the name. So sexy. Now where have I heard it before?”
Taking the coffee in hand, I sit back in my chair and sip the hot brew, then smile. “Kaz Fabian is a guitarist in the band The Resistance .”
“ Ahhh , the boys in the band. How are they doing these days?”
“They’re busy, but getting a break soon. Kaz just closed on a house and he wants us to start immediately.”
Lane takes the electronic tablet from my desk and starts taking notes. “I’ll need the address, his phone number, any house regulations, limitations, expectations. Remodel or only design decorating? Timeline? Deadline? Rush or standard? When can I see the house? What’s the code to get in if gated? Does he have any pets I need to be aware of, and, last but certainly not least, is he cute, single, and gay?”
I burst out laughing, and am so glad I wasn’t drinking at the time or it would surely be spewed all over the visual board I just created. “You’re very on top of things this morning.”
“You should have seen what I was on top of last night.”
My eyes dart to his and I raise an eyebrow. “Wow, and frisky too.”
“Frisky, caffeinated, and happy.”
“It’s working for you. Direct that energy into design and we’ll have a kickass week. As for the other information, I’ve seen online photos from the realty site, but I won’t see the property until tomorrow night when he’s back in LA. Also, he’s very cute and very straight.” I can’t hide the smile I get just thinking of Kaz, so I start gathering the papers spread out on my desk as a deterrent.
He does an over-the-top eye-roll, then starts typing again. “Well, that doesn’t do me any good. So not fair.”
“Half of LA is on your team, so I think that leaves us pretty dang equal.”
“I love when you use dang. You’re adorable like that.”
“Dang. Dang. Dang,” I say and stick my tongue out at him.
When he looks up from the tablet, I busy myself with the crap on my desk again. “That desk hasn’t been cleaned in months.”
“I know. That’s why I’m cleaning it.”
“You only clean when you’re hiding something or you’re avoiding a topic because you’re not ready to share. Which is it?” He leans forward conspiratorially. There’s a giddiness to his tone when he says, “So how’d you land the Fabian account? Did you have to sleep with him?”
I about choke on my own spit, and start hacking. Lane jumps up and hits me on the back until I manage to say, “Okay. Okay. Stop.”
Walking around the desk back to the chair, he mumbles, “Just trying to help.”
My hands feel cool against my heated cheeks as I try to regain my
I know in my heart he didn’t mean to. I’m just… small. Easily hurt.
He didn’t mean to hurt me.
A GRANDE COFFEE is set down on my desk, and Lane, my lead designer slash assistant, says, “You were late. How is that possible when you live here?”
“Good morning to you too, Lane. I needed a coffee that I didn’t have to make.” I needed to get tested for STDs because of Mark’s philandering, and thankfully, my doctor’s office squeezed me in. That’s the truth I’ll lie about this morning. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Hey. What’s with the throwback to Madonna “Like a Virgin” and bangle days?” He leans against the desk while I finish attaching a swatch to the board, my bracelets jingling. “Are we not talking about it?”
“About what?” I look up at him, hoping my wide-eyed innocent expression will throw him off the scent.
He walks around behind me and hovers over my shoulder, judging the board with a silent chin rub. “New client?”
It worked. “Yep.”
Moving back to the chair in front of my desk, he sits, and crosses his legs as he would say, “at the ankles like a proper lady.”
“Fine, I’ll drop harping on the ’80s wardrobe throwback so you can fill me on the client.”
“Kaz Fabian.”
“ Ooohhh , Kaz Fabian. I like the name. So sexy. Now where have I heard it before?”
Taking the coffee in hand, I sit back in my chair and sip the hot brew, then smile. “Kaz Fabian is a guitarist in the band The Resistance .”
“ Ahhh , the boys in the band. How are they doing these days?”
“They’re busy, but getting a break soon. Kaz just closed on a house and he wants us to start immediately.”
Lane takes the electronic tablet from my desk and starts taking notes. “I’ll need the address, his phone number, any house regulations, limitations, expectations. Remodel or only design decorating? Timeline? Deadline? Rush or standard? When can I see the house? What’s the code to get in if gated? Does he have any pets I need to be aware of, and, last but certainly not least, is he cute, single, and gay?”
I burst out laughing, and am so glad I wasn’t drinking at the time or it would surely be spewed all over the visual board I just created. “You’re very on top of things this morning.”
“You should have seen what I was on top of last night.”
My eyes dart to his and I raise an eyebrow. “Wow, and frisky too.”
“Frisky, caffeinated, and happy.”
“It’s working for you. Direct that energy into design and we’ll have a kickass week. As for the other information, I’ve seen online photos from the realty site, but I won’t see the property until tomorrow night when he’s back in LA. Also, he’s very cute and very straight.” I can’t hide the smile I get just thinking of Kaz, so I start gathering the papers spread out on my desk as a deterrent.
He does an over-the-top eye-roll, then starts typing again. “Well, that doesn’t do me any good. So not fair.”
“Half of LA is on your team, so I think that leaves us pretty dang equal.”
“I love when you use dang. You’re adorable like that.”
“Dang. Dang. Dang,” I say and stick my tongue out at him.
When he looks up from the tablet, I busy myself with the crap on my desk again. “That desk hasn’t been cleaned in months.”
“I know. That’s why I’m cleaning it.”
“You only clean when you’re hiding something or you’re avoiding a topic because you’re not ready to share. Which is it?” He leans forward conspiratorially. There’s a giddiness to his tone when he says, “So how’d you land the Fabian account? Did you have to sleep with him?”
I about choke on my own spit, and start hacking. Lane jumps up and hits me on the back until I manage to say, “Okay. Okay. Stop.”
Walking around the desk back to the chair, he mumbles, “Just trying to help.”
My hands feel cool against my heated cheeks as I try to regain my
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