my back, I don’t pull away. I nestle in his arms as if it’s the most natural thing, and he rests his chin in the crook of my neck, his hot breath caressing my skin. I find myself wishing we could stay like this for hours, but all too soon, it’s time to go. Smiling, Sebastian takes my hand, leading me to the car.
***
We drive to my apartment in silence. When we reach it, Sebastian stops the car and gets out. Even though I could easily let myself out, I stay put, choosing to watch him open the door for me. I enjoy being treated like a lady.
I’m about to tell him I’ll see him on Monday, when a gust of wind rustles my dress. Sebastian’s eyes widen.
“You’re wearing lace underwear and expect me not to flirt?”
“You’re not supposed to see it,” I say, horrified.
“Who is supposed to see it?” he says with a growl.
I snap my gaze back to him. “What?”
“You said I’m not supposed to see it.” He places his hands on the hood of the car, trapping me between his mouthwatering biceps. “Who is, then? Who are you wearing lace for?” He’s jealous, and it’s unbelievably sexy.
“Myself,” I say boldly. “Isn’t a girl allowed to do that?”
“Mmm, you’re not a girl. You’re a woman. A fucking gorgeous one.”
“No, I’m not,” I say dismissively.
His brow furrows. “What?”
“Well, I’m okay, I guess. Pretty.”
“You are gorgeous. Just agree with me once, woman.” Leaning into me, he adds, “If you don’t, I’ll kiss you senseless.”
“Okay.” I’m almost out of breath. “I agree with you.”
“See you tonight at the show.”
“You’re coming?” I ask.
“Yeah. What will you wear?”
“I bought a crazy fancy dress. I love it.”
He steps back, freeing me. As I step by him toward the building entrance, he says into my ear, “Wear lace underneath the dress tonight. It turns me on.”
Chapter Twelve
Ava
Crazy fancy is the term for the show, and I’ve been to some fancy events in my life. The location is one of the most famous restaurants in San Francisco, with a beautiful garden surrounding it. Organized mayhem reigns inside. The back of the restaurant has been transformed into a runway with large screens on either side of it. There are no rows of chairs¸ like in a traditional fashion show. Instead, there are round tables scattered in the room. Most tables are for four, but there are some larger ones as well. Still, the place maintains a warm and welcoming feel by having candles on each table.
Looking at the people milling around the room, I grow prouder of my attire with every passing minute. I’m wearing a dark blue sequined designer dress I bought on sale in a boutique downtown that was surprisingly well stocked. They had some mouthwatering dresses from the latest collections, but I only tried on the items they had on sale. I’m saving the bulk of my salary for the down payment on an apartment.
I inspect everything about my surroundings. Part of my job will be to help put together the next collection show. I am pondering what I can do different while maintaining the essence of the show. Of course, Gemma, the event coordinator, can give me all the details about this, but experiencing it firsthand always beats looking at lists and video recordings. I take my time observing the decor, the way people react to it, and to each other, as well as the things—or people—the press is most interested in. The main collection shows always have excellent coverage. All the major fashion magazines, business magazines, and even the occasional lifestyle magazine cover them. I wasn’t expecting so much press for a buyer show, too.
Most of the reporters are still waiting for the show to begin, but several are cornering the guests. Among the cornered ones, I see Logan and Pippa. She doesn’t seem to mind the spotlight, even though her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. Logan looks downright annoyed as the reporter throws question
***
We drive to my apartment in silence. When we reach it, Sebastian stops the car and gets out. Even though I could easily let myself out, I stay put, choosing to watch him open the door for me. I enjoy being treated like a lady.
I’m about to tell him I’ll see him on Monday, when a gust of wind rustles my dress. Sebastian’s eyes widen.
“You’re wearing lace underwear and expect me not to flirt?”
“You’re not supposed to see it,” I say, horrified.
“Who is supposed to see it?” he says with a growl.
I snap my gaze back to him. “What?”
“You said I’m not supposed to see it.” He places his hands on the hood of the car, trapping me between his mouthwatering biceps. “Who is, then? Who are you wearing lace for?” He’s jealous, and it’s unbelievably sexy.
“Myself,” I say boldly. “Isn’t a girl allowed to do that?”
“Mmm, you’re not a girl. You’re a woman. A fucking gorgeous one.”
“No, I’m not,” I say dismissively.
His brow furrows. “What?”
“Well, I’m okay, I guess. Pretty.”
“You are gorgeous. Just agree with me once, woman.” Leaning into me, he adds, “If you don’t, I’ll kiss you senseless.”
“Okay.” I’m almost out of breath. “I agree with you.”
“See you tonight at the show.”
“You’re coming?” I ask.
“Yeah. What will you wear?”
“I bought a crazy fancy dress. I love it.”
He steps back, freeing me. As I step by him toward the building entrance, he says into my ear, “Wear lace underneath the dress tonight. It turns me on.”
Chapter Twelve
Ava
Crazy fancy is the term for the show, and I’ve been to some fancy events in my life. The location is one of the most famous restaurants in San Francisco, with a beautiful garden surrounding it. Organized mayhem reigns inside. The back of the restaurant has been transformed into a runway with large screens on either side of it. There are no rows of chairs¸ like in a traditional fashion show. Instead, there are round tables scattered in the room. Most tables are for four, but there are some larger ones as well. Still, the place maintains a warm and welcoming feel by having candles on each table.
Looking at the people milling around the room, I grow prouder of my attire with every passing minute. I’m wearing a dark blue sequined designer dress I bought on sale in a boutique downtown that was surprisingly well stocked. They had some mouthwatering dresses from the latest collections, but I only tried on the items they had on sale. I’m saving the bulk of my salary for the down payment on an apartment.
I inspect everything about my surroundings. Part of my job will be to help put together the next collection show. I am pondering what I can do different while maintaining the essence of the show. Of course, Gemma, the event coordinator, can give me all the details about this, but experiencing it firsthand always beats looking at lists and video recordings. I take my time observing the decor, the way people react to it, and to each other, as well as the things—or people—the press is most interested in. The main collection shows always have excellent coverage. All the major fashion magazines, business magazines, and even the occasional lifestyle magazine cover them. I wasn’t expecting so much press for a buyer show, too.
Most of the reporters are still waiting for the show to begin, but several are cornering the guests. Among the cornered ones, I see Logan and Pippa. She doesn’t seem to mind the spotlight, even though her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. Logan looks downright annoyed as the reporter throws question
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