Page 52 of Reluctantly Yours
“Can’t. Barrett and I are going to a charity gala.”
“Fancy. I can’t wait to hear how that goes.” She exits with a smirk and a wave. “Ta ta for now.”
I glance back at my computer screen, and try to recall what I was doing before Jules walked in. I was going over JoAnna’s editorial calendar to send out reminders.
I open up my email, but my mind skips back to this morning in the car when Barrett kissed me. How he must have thought I meant for him to give me a goodbye kiss. The same way he had done in JoAnna’s office on Monday, except today his lips lingered longer. I could feel the tip of his tongue teasing the entrance of my mouth. I’d been caught off guard, completely unprepared for his lips to be on mine again. To be reminded how good they felt there. How I could imagine his mouth kissing me other places. I’m pretty sure Barrett St. Clair’s lips were made for sin.
Then, he told me it wouldn’t happen again. Good. I don’t need the distraction.
“Chloe,” JoAnna’s voice makes me jump, “sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
“No problem. I was just working on the editorial calendar.”
“Perfect. Can you send me your edits onSail Away?”
“Of course.” I nod, then turn back to my computer.
With all my editorial assistant duties and the added responsibilities to fill in for Lacey as an assistant editor, along with the Books 4 Kids event tasks, my to do list is overflowing.
I clear my mind of thoughts of Barrett, because thinking about him isn’t on it.
* * *
I haven’t seen Barrett since yesterday morning in the car on the way to work. He texted me that he would be working late last night and this morning he was nowhere to be found. Not that I was looking for him.
I’m settling in at Barrett’s place. Last night I ate the dinner Dimitri had prepared by myself, then curled up with a book in front of the fireplace in Barrett’s study. Yes, it’s June, but I couldn’t resist. I wonder if I can add use of his study in the month of December to my list? He said it could be anything as long as it doesn’t interfere with his business deal.
Or maybe my good mood is because of the bathroom at Barrett’s place, I’m still not adjusted to its size and amenities. The tub and shower jets, dimmable vanity mirrors, and heated toilet seat. It does everything but shave my legs, which I’ve just finished doing in the bathtub.
I lay my head back on the built-in head rest and enjoy the feeling of my smooth skin as I glide one leg over the other.
I thought I’d be more annoyed with being Barrett’s plus one. He didn’t exactly ask nicely when he told me we’d be making our first public appearance tonight at the Top Dog Gala. Maybe I would be if I wasn’t in love with the gorgeous blue dress that I get to wear tonight. It’s backless and makes me feel sexy. And the fact that people will be showing up in half an hour to do my hair and makeup. I didn’t even get my hair done for prom. I don’t know why Barrett hates going to events. Dressing up is fun.
I pull the plug with my toes, a move I’ve mastered in less than forty-eight hours, and lift myself up and out to grab my bathrobe out of the warming drawer. Yes, this bathroom even has a heated drawer to put your towel or bathrobe into so it is toasty perfection when you get out of the bath or shower. Rose showed it to me yesterday and I nearly collapsed on the floor.
In the closet, I pull open the drawer I put my underwear in Thursday night. I move through the colorful array of options, cotton thongs, cotton boy briefs, lots of cotton. My eyes find that gorgeous blue dress again. This isn’t going to cut it. I slam it shut and move over to the next drawer. I already know what’s in it and when I saw it yesterday, I vowed I’d never touch it because who needs sexy silk and lace underwear when you’re fake dating Barrett, the Ice King? My hands move over the slinky material of a silk black thong. I snatch it up quickly, then slam the drawer. It’s for the dress. Nothing more.
The underwear aren’t the only items in the closet that aren’t mine. There are a few new dresses, wide leg trousers and blouse options, flirty skirts and tops, belts, shoes and the most adorable tank and shorts silk lounge set. It’s lavender, my favorite color. It’s sexy and chic and came with a matching fuzzy long-sleeve cardigan sweater. I stared at it for a good five minutes yesterday. It looks like a cloud and while I’m tempted to put it on now, I slip on the panties instead and retie my robe.
A minute later there’s a knock on my bedroom door and I open it up to find two men standing there. One that looks like a teddy bear with a beard and thick wavy brown hair and a thinner man with jet black hair that may be wearing eyeliner.
“Chloe?” they say in unison. “I’m Hans,” teddy bear says, “and I’m Franz,” the dark-haired man says, “and we’re here to primp you up!” they add together in some kind of accent.
“Franz?” I question. “Is that French?”
“No. And I’m Will,” Franz says. “That’s just a fun little intro we like to do.”
“Oh, okay. Well, come on in.” I wave them into the bedroom.
“Where should we set up?” Will asks.
“The bathroom, maybe? It’s got plenty of room.”
He peeks his head in.
“Damn, girl. How many BJs you have to give to get a place like this?”
“Oh, um.” I struggle to answer because Barrett is my fake boyfriend but if people think he’s my real boyfriend, then I probably give him blow jobs on occasion, which would be fine because he’s my boyfriend, but he’s not and we don’t. What was the question?