“Of course. How could I forget?” He says. He flashes a smile at Saffron. “You’re still studying at the University of Glasgow?”
Her cheeks grow pink. “I am. Trying to decide between being a lawyer or an artist.”
“I’ll just bet.” He snorts. “Let me tell you what you should do. You should just graduate with whatever concentration you feel good about. Get top marks, then go to business school. I’m telling you, with an MBA and your famous last name, you can go literally anywhere and do whatever you want.”
“Umm.” She pushes out her cheek with her tongue, her gaze sliding to me. “Thanks, I guess.”
Keir clears his throat. “This is Ella. My… uh, nanny.”
“Ella. So nice to meet you, darling,” he purrs.
I don’t miss the fact that he looks at me like I'm the most delicious steak and he’s a starving man. Keir doesn’t miss it either and his gaze narrows dangerously. As I shake hands with Deacon, his frank gaze makes my cheeks warm.
“You too,” I find myself murmuring.
He winks and then releases me. Deacon starts walking over to greet Saffron, but slows and turns to give me a curious look. “Is Isla here, too?”
“She’s back in Scotland with her grandparents,” I answer, hoping I’m not speaking out of turn.
“But the nanny is here in L.A.” Deacon quirks a brow. “Interesting.”
Keir doesn’t look amused and I’m not sure what to say. What can I say? I’m here in Beverly Hills and Isla is on the other side of the world. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on between me and my so-called boss.
Luckily, Deacon doesn’t press the issue. He’s too busy kissing Saffron’s hand and whispering something that instantly makes her blush a shade of red that I didn’t think was possible for someone as outgoing and outspoken as she is.
Keir comes over to stand next to me while Deacon and Saffron keep talking. “Don’t worry,” he leans in close so I’m the only one who can hear. “He was just busting my balls about that nanny stuff. He knew I wasn’t coming here alone.”
“He doesn’t seem to be too worried about us, anyway,” I smirk. I’m watching Saffron blush and giggle and playfully smack Deacon’s arm as he laughs and gives her one more quick kiss on the cheek.
With a sigh, Deacon finally turns back to us. “I should let you get unpacked. I’m sending my stylist up with a rack of designer gowns that’ll look good on the red carpet.” He gives Keir a knowing look. “You won’t let me convince you to try something stylish tonight, will you?”
“A tuxedo is stylish,” he answers. “It’s the very definition of timeless, classic style.”
“So that’s a no? Because there’s this crushed red velvet jacket that—”
Keir just shakes his head. “That’s a no.”
“I tried.” Deacon shrugs as he starts toward the door. “Anyway, the stylist will be here later. Be ready for the red carpet at eight. Premiere starts at nine. After-party at midnight. You’ll probably want to eat something before then.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” Keir follows him to the door and holds it open. “We’ll try not to drink too much on an empty stomach.”
“Did you tell these girls about the time we partied for three days in Greenwich Village and—”
I shut him down instantly. “Goodbye, Deacon. See you at the premiere.”
“Be sure to ask him about Greenwich Village,” he calls back to me and Saffron as he walks out the door.
Keir closes the door behind his friend and exhales loudly as he turns back to face us. “Ignore him. He’s… ridiculous.”
Saffron snorts. “Yeah, not a chance. You’re going to tell us about Greenwich Village before we leave here tonight.”
Keir looks equal parts annoyed and embarrassed. “Don’t get any ideas. All I have to do is make a phone call and we’ll be on a plane back to Scotland in half an hour.”
I can’t help but laugh. It’s not often I get to see someone get under Keir’s skin in a fun, playful way. I’ve seen Saffron do it before, and now Deacon, too.
The two of them together might just be more than he can handle, and I’m loving every minute of it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ELLA
Deacon didn’t just send his stylist. He sent an entire glam squad. Hair, nails, makeup, and another person whose only job seems to be running back and forth fetching shots of espresso and glasses of champagne for everyone.
“Stunning,” the stylist says as I do a little twirl in front of the full-length mirror. “Absolutely stunning.”
The makeup artist reaches out to give me one more pat of powder, then nods approvingly. “Honey, you are glowing. People are going to think you’re one of the stars of the movie.”
“All thanks to you,” I say, opening my hands to encompass everyone in the room. “All of you. I can honestly say I’ve never looked this glamorous or felt this beautiful before. Thank you so much.”
The lady who has been working on my hair for the past two hours reaches in to give me an air-hug without actually touching my designer gown. “Seeing you like this is what we live for. If you aren’t featured on all the fashion vlogs by tomorrow morning, I’m going to be shocked.”
My stomach clenches. That’s something I haven’t even considered. “Do you really think so? People are going to be critiquing me online?”
Everyone on the glam squad tries to reassure me at once.
“No, no, not critiquing.”
“They’re going to love everything about you, darling.”
“You look like a million bucks. The only critique they might have is to wonder how someone so pretty hasn’t already made their red carpet debut.”
Okay, I know they’re exaggerating now, but the flurry of compliments does help to settle my nerves a little. I do look really nice, thanks to all their hard work.
I just wonder what Keir will think. He’s never seen me like this before. Heck, I’ve never seen myself like this before.
I don’t have to wonder for long. Keir peeks inside the room just as everyone else is packing up to leave. I watch in the mirror as his eyes roam up and down, taking in every detail. I know I shouldn’t care so much about what anyone else thinks of me, but I can’t help the fluttery feeling in my stomach when I turn around to face him and he finally starts to smile.
“You look gorgeous,” he murmurs, crossing the room in three long strides to stand in front of me. “I want to kiss you but I don’t want to mess anything up.”
I laugh. “It’s a lot, isn’t it? The hair, the nails, the makeup—is it too much?”
“You might look out of place at the grocery store,” he shrugs. “But you’ll fit right in on the red carpet.” He pauses, then shakes his head. “No, scratch that. You’ll be the most beautiful woman on the red carpet, hands down. And I’ll be the luckiest bastard there with you next to me.”
The glam squad heaves a collective, happy sigh as they sweep out of the room, and that fluttery feeling is growing more intense by the second as I stare into Keir’s deep, dark eyes.