Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26499 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26499 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Lauren’s eyes almost pop out of her head. I elbow her side. I don’t care which we do. She loves fashion a bit more than I do, but there is this art to it that I can’t help but be drawn to myself. The coloring and patterns that each designer put together. They’re artists, if you ask me. But their work is wearable.
“Whatever is easier,” Lauren finally says.
“Let’s go out. I want to see some of the sights. I’ve never left the country before.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Jay says without missing a beat. My request is final. He snags my hand, leading me out of Lauren’s suite and back toward ours.
“I guess I’m getting ready,” I shout over my shoulder to Lauren. “Are we going to—” I stop speaking when I see two men in all black suits. I’d assume them to be bodyguards, but they don’t have those ear things. “Who are they?”
“Security.”
“But they don’t have the ear things.”
“We have them. You just can’t see them,” the blond one responds. Jay keeps pulling me until we’re in the bedroom alone. He kicks the door closed behind us.
“Why do we need security?”
“There will be a lot of people, and I want to make sure you’re safe at all times.” He leans down and kisses me. This one is soft. “That no one even thinks about hurting a hair on your pretty little head.”
“Except you.” I smile against his mouth.
“Good girl.” He kisses the tip of my nose, making me feel precious. I’m sure later he’ll be calling me something else altogether, and I’ll love that as much.
fourteen
JAY
The boutique’s first floor is crowded, but the staff leads us into the elevator and takes us to the third level. Here the walls are padded in silk, and the only hum of noise is from the air conditioning vents. It’s hotter than Hades outside. Mila looks like a wilted flower, which the staff is quick to address. Wine, petite bottles of sparkling water, and soda are brought out on silver trays. I wave away the alcohol and ask for juice instead.
“We’re over eighteen. We can drink wine,” Lauren protests as the attendant removes everything but the water and soda.
“I don’t want any,” I say in a tone of finality.
Lauren isn’t a fan of this, and Mila is confused. I’ve got a feeling Lauren is against Mila being pregnant, so I don’t bring up my thoughts on the topic.
Fortunately for me, the head of the house shows up. “Bienvenu! Monsieur Eaton!” A tall, bearded man dressed in dark jeans and a ratty black T-shirt sweeps up to me and grabs my hands. “I had heard you were coming and could not believe it. Years of invitations have been ignored. I thought you did not like us here.” Jean-Luc Vianney was appointed the head designer of this exclusive design house seven years ago. He has invited me every year since then, as have a slew of others. They all want their own label, but that requires funding, and while my portfolio includes luxury goods as they’re fairly recession-proof industries because the rich never seem to run out of money even in a downturn, I’ve never attended a show.
“I’m here with my woman, Milana, and her friend Lauren. I’m sorry to come on short notice, and know you have a show to prepare for, so please don’t feel like you need to stay. One of your staff members will suit us fine.”
“Non, I will stay with you. And this must be Mila.” He lets go of my hands to bring the back of Mila’s hand to his mouth. I clear my throat before contact can be made. Jean Luc drops Mila’s hand immediately and moves over to Lauren. “And you are Lauren.”
“How did you know?” Mila asks.
“Milana means full of grace, yes? And you are grace personified.”
That was smooth. Mila glows under the compliment. “Actually, I’m clumsy personified and scared to get out of my chair because I’ll probably trip over a fold in the rug and break something.”
“There is nothing to be broken here. Only beautiful clothes. Now sit, and I’ll have some champagne brought out.” He waves us back to the chairs.
“No champagne.” I shake my head.
“Ahh.” Jean-Luc gives me a knowing glance. “I see. Then I shall be ever careful about the clothes I select.”
The moment he disappears, Lauren whispers to Mila, “I saw this on the Kardashians.”
“I was there with you.” They toast each other with their bottles of sparkling water. Lauren rises and wanders over to look at the racks lining the wall.
“This does feel unreal,” Mila says, sipping from the bottle. “I met Jean-Luc Vianney. He said I was graceful. No one’s ever called me graceful.”
“I think you’re very graceful.” Am I feeling jealous over her happiness at Jean Luc’s compliment? Maybe a little.