She makes it too easy.
“Is there a reason you’re forcing us to eat together?”
I take the seat across from her with a smug smile on my face. “As a matter of fact, there is.” When I don’t say anything more, she quirks a brow.
“Are you going to elaborate?”
“Tomorrow morning, we’re flying out to New York. Friday is the UNICEF Snowflake ball. I also have some business I need to handle while I’m there.”
“Tomorrow morning?” She does a double take, eyes widening. “I haven’t even had time to pack or tell—” She cuts off midsentence, realizing what she almost let slip. My eyes narrow into thin slits.
“Tell who?” I quirk a brow, daring her to finish that sentence.
“Forget it,” she huffs. “Though, it would be nice to get a heads-up when we’ll be flying places. You can’t just snap your fingers at me and expect me to jump.”
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? And isn’t that exactly what I’m doing right now, giving you a heads-up?”
She drops her fork, and it clatters against the plate deafeningly. “Are you actively trying to piss me off because that’s what it feels like.”
I laugh. “I might be.”
“Why?”
I lean forward, loving the way her eyes flare as I do it. “Because watching you get angry makes my cock rock hard.”
The air around us charges with potent tension and electric sparks. She swallows. That pink tongue of hers darts out, licking across her bottom lip enticingly. I bet she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.
“Believe me, the way I’m feeling about you right now,” she whispers huskily, leaning forward to meet my stare head-on, “you wouldn’t want me anywhere near your cock.”
My brows shoot up, surprise at her sassiness sending a thrill down my spine. She ignores me for the duration of our meal, doing her best to avoid my gaze. Once she begins toying with the remaining food on her plate, pushing it around with the tip of her fork, I know she has something on her mind, and she’s unsure of how to talk about it.
“Is there a reason you’re bringing me to this gala instead of Mia?”
I set my fork down lightly. “I released a statement that you’re my girlfriend. Why would I take another woman who isn’t you?”
“It would be easier for you, would it not? I’ve seen what the press writes whenever we’re out pictured together. Don’t you get tired of it?”
“I don’t care what they say about me. I only took Mia as my date last time because I had already put in the RSVP a few months in advance.”
Her eyes flick to mine. “She likes you, you know.”
Leaning back, I cross my arms over my chest. Her gaze darts down to the movement, taking in my arms before she forces her gaze back up. “I know.” Her face falls at the admission. Did she really think I was that blind? That I didn’t notice Mia was developing feelings for me?
As if she’s over and done with this conversation, Mackenzie pushes away from the table, heading back to her room. My next words stop her in her tracks. “Which is why I fired her.”
Slowly, she turns to look back at me, surprise written all over her face. “You fired her?”
I nod, leaving it at that. Keeping Mia on would be a mistake in the end. Even though I’ve made our professional relationship clear from the start, it was obvious she was hoping that might change. It wouldn’t. There is only one woman I want, and she drives me crazy half the time.
“I gave your friend Katherine a call earlier about our upcoming New York visit,” I say, changing the subject.
Her face scrunches with confusion. “You called Kat? Why?”
I shrug. “Figured if you were going to be in New York, she and Vera would want to know.”
She keeps staring at me oddly, so I push away from the table and stride into my bedroom. I’ve given too much away already. That is the problem when I’m around Mackenzie. She makes me give away much more than I intended.
“Oh, honey. I think this is my best work yet,” Wren says, as he puts the finishing touches on my skin. As I look at myself in the mirror, I think he might be right. Wren outdid himself at the last gala, but tonight, he’s done the impossible. I feel like a model or a movie star.
I feel important.
I feel like me.
No dyed hair. No ulterior motives. Just me.
This dress isn’t as sexy as the golden one I wore at the last gala, but this one…I feel like a princess. The gala tonight is the global UNICEF gala, meaning there will be even more press and stars there than last time. The dress itself is a one of a kind Gaurav Gupta Couture piece, but this one has a bit more flair than the last dress. The dress itself is a soft lavender with hints of champagne that glint in certain angles as well as diamonds and jewels that are woven through the fabric. It’s an off-the-shoulder, swirl sculpture gown that’s form-fitting with a swoop train that looks like elegant waves in the ocean behind me.
“This charity is a bit more pretentious than the last, and this is perfect,” he assures me, as we stare at my reflection. My blond curls flow down my back. The hairstylist inserted the same Swarovski jewels that are embedded in my gown into a section of my hair. It looks like a waterfall of waves and jewels, and I couldn’t love it more.
“Thank you again, Wren. I don’t know how you keep doing it, making me look like a princess, but thank you.”
“Go get your man, girl.” He winks at me, and I laugh, pulling him in for a hug. When all of this pretending is said and done, I’m going to miss him the most.
I try not to be too disappointed that Baz isn’t here to meet me and see my dress like he did last time at the penthouse. I imagined him seeing me and kissing me like he did that day. Only when Dan walks me down to the waiting car, Baz is nowhere to be found. It feels like he left another gaping hole in my chest from his absence.
“Where’s Baz?” I ask Dan begrudgingly. He meets my gaze in the rearview mirror.
“He’s meeting us. He had a meeting that ran late, so he’ll be heading straight there.” I nod, trying to decipher by the look on his face if he’s telling the truth. What kind of meeting would Baz have right before this event? I wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, it was obviously important.
My palms grow damp with sweat when we pull up to the Cipriani Wall Street where the event is being held. There’s a red carpet, and dozens of limos are lined along the street with car after car stopping at the main entrance to let out their guests.
When it’s my turn to get out, I feel like I’m going to be sick. The idea of walking inside alone doesn’t sit well with me. This isn’t some kinky sex club. This is a highly publicized event with a red carpet. I can’t walk in there alone. The press will eat me alive. I start to hyperventilate but then my door suddenly opens, and I breathe a sigh of relief. The tears that were teetering on my lashes blink away as I stare up at Baz. His face softens when he sees me, likely taking in my panicked expression. He bends, leveling our gazes.
“Hey, it’s just us out there. Tune them out. They’re going to shout questions, going to say stuff to get a reaction out of you, but you’re going to keep your head held high and ignore them. Got it?”