I pick up the call. “This is Skye.”
“Skye, it’s Eugenie. I’m sorry to bother you on the weekend, but I just read your email and I’m thrilled that you and Braden worked things out!”
“Oh.” Of course she is. “Thank you. I’m happy about it, too.”
“I’m sure you’re both ecstatic. And since you’re back together, we’d like to talk to you again about some additions to the campaign. Your hashtags #susieglow and #simplyskye are proving to be very popular with our customers, so we’re going to create another campaign around them.”
“That’s…really generous of you, but we just did the pink campaign.”
“That’s not a campaign so much as a brand-new product. We’d like to cash in on the fact that you’re the girl next door. Simplyskye is perfect for that. I’ve got Brian looking into the paperwork to file for a trademark. Same for susieglow.”
“You mean you’d hold the trademark for susieglow and simplyskye, even though I made them up?”
“Well…yes. We’re willing to put up some serious money, so of course we want to hold the trademarks.”
I’m not sure what to say. I wish Braden were here. “I’ll need to think about all of this.”
“Of course! I just wanted to let you know how excited we are about this new step. And also how happy we are that you and Braden are back together.”
Right. That’s why the Saturday call. This is something they were thinking about, but they didn’t want to push it while I wasn’t with Braden. Just in case that hindered my influencing career.
Again, Braden is the reason I’m getting anywhere.
Oddly, it doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. As I told Tessa, opportunity is opportunity. But Susanne holding trademarks for hashtags I came up with disturbs me a little.
Okay…a lot. It disturbs me a lot.
I’m no creative genius. These are two-word hashtags, after all. But still, they’re my two-word hashtags. Shouldn’t I get some kind of credit for that?
Braden will know what to do. I’ll ask him first.
“Thank you for calling, Eugenie,” I finally say. “As always, I appreciate your confidence in me, and I’ll give all of this some serious thought.”
“Wonderful! When will you and Braden be in New York again?”
“I’m…not sure.” But soon, I hope.
“We’ll have to do dinner again. We’re getting the sample nail colors in late next week, and we’d love for you to be here for the unveiling.”
“I’d like that, too. I’ll talk to Braden about making the trip.”
“We’ll be happy to send you both tickets.”
“I’m sure that’s not necessary.” She also knows this.
“Well, you let me know. Have a wonderful evening, Skye. And we’re so happy about the good news!”
A knock sounds on the door as I end the call. Christopher is prompt, as usual. I shove my phone in my purse. “Coming, Christopher.”
“How are you this evening, Ms. Manning?” he asks.
I swat him on the arm. “It’s Skye. How many times will we have this discussion?”
He smiles.
I never realized how handsome Christopher actually is. He’s tall, nearly as tall as Braden, with sandy blond hair and hazel eyes. Nice full lips, and a muscular build.
Another perfect candidate for Tessa.
Although, I’m sure she’d go for the billionaire over the chauffeur.
But maybe not. Tessa surprises me more often than not.
I follow Christopher down to the street, where he helps me into the Mercedes.
And that’s my last thought of Tessa.
Only Braden is on my mind now.
Braden…and what awaits.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“You look beautiful,” Braden says, once Christopher and the rest of his staff have made themselves scarce.
“Thank you. So do you.”
God, he does. He’s wearing faded jeans—I didn’t even know Braden owned a pair of faded jeans—and a light blue button-down. No shoes, his feet are bare. Easier to get his pants off. I smile to myself.
His hair is still slightly damp, as if he just got out of the shower. I smile again.
“As beautiful as you are, though”—his eyes smolder—“you’re going to have to take your clothes off.”
I look around. We’re standing in the middle of the foyer, and with Braden’s open floorplan, pretty much anyone in the living room, kitchen, or dining room can see us.
“No one will see you but me,” he says. “Now, do as I tell you.”
I nod, trembling, and slip out of my sandals. I slide the straps of the green dress over my shoulders and shimmy out of the sundress. I stand now only in a strapless bra and thong.
Braden’s jaw tightens, and a low growl emerges from his throat. “All of it.”
I inhale. Tomatoes. Basil. Garlic. Italian. We’re having Italian. “Do you want me to eat naked?”
“Absolutely,” he says.
I part my lips.
He sucks in a breath. “That mouth.”
I tingle all over, my nipples pushing against the satin of my bra. I reach around, unhook it, and let it drop to the floor.
He sucks in another breath. “Fuck. Those tits, Skye.”
I slide my finger under the tiny waistband of my thong and push it over my hips and ass, letting it fall next to my bra.
No one’s here. No one except Braden and me.
But anyone could walk in.
The thought excites me. Frightens me. Bedazzles me.
“I suppose you’ll remain dressed?” I say.
His lips quiver, as if he wants to smile, but he’s holding back. “We’ll see. Follow me.”
I hastily grab my clothes, assuming we’re going to the bedroom, but instead he leads me to the kitchen.
I inhale again. Definitely Italian.
“Lean on the island,” he says. “Put your hands flat on the counter.”
I obey, sucking in a breath at the cold marble on my belly. I lay my hands flat as he instructed.
Braden trails his warm fingers over the cheeks of my ass. “I’ve waited a long time for this, Skye.”