“Look familiar?” he asked.
“How did you get this?” She pulled the dress out of the plastic protector and ran the familiar fabric between her fingers.
“Ever since you were plastered on the face of every newspaper in the country wearing it, all the major retailers have made sure to keep it in stock. You’re officially a model now.”
She felt heat creep into her cheeks at the sudden reminder of her newfound popularity. Even so, she couldn’t deny the slight boost in her ego at the thought that she’d convinced the public to buy something because she looked good in it.
“Why?” she asked, barely able to form words.
“I told you, I’m going to get you out of this mess. But we need to do it fast and right. Now change into the dress and meet me for dinner. I’ll explain everything when you get here.”
“This had better be good,” she muttered.
“Just make sure to change in the car. If anyone sees you wearing that tonight and snaps a pic, this isn’t going to work.”
Grace sighed. “I can’t change in the car. The driver’s here.”
She could already imagine him rolling his eyes at her modesty. “I’ve seen women change in public before. Just do it quickly and keep the important bits covered. It will be worth it. No one can see you wearing that dress tonight. It’s important.”
She narrowed her eyes. Sure, she wasn’t the most modest person in the world, but that didn’t mean he could dictate where and when she took her top off. “You’d better be buying me dinner.”
He scoffed. “It’s the driver who you’re flashing. Why isn’t he buying?”
In spite of herself, Grace let out a giggle. She covered her mouth and hoped he didn’t hear her laughter. “You’re a dick.”
“See you in half an hour. I promise you lots and lots of wine.” He hung up.
Grace shook her head again and set the phone down. What a strange man. “We can head to the restaurant,” she said to the driver. The windows were darkly tinted, so she’d have freedom to change rather easily.
The only one who could see her would be the driver, but she’d have to bite that bullet. She wouldn’t need to change her bra, and she could keep her pants on until the dress was covering those important parts. So it would only be her bra that was exposed for a few moments. Considering how crazy the city traffic was at rush hour, it wasn’t like he could ogle her the entire time.
But Simon had never answered her question. Obviously, if she was wearing the same dress, he was rigging something to look like she’d done it the night she’d been caught with the senator. She could do without the secrets, though. They were supposed to be partners, solving this problem together.
She’d been her own boss for years. She wasn’t used to taking orders from anyone. Even when her clients made demands, she could usually talk them out of anything unreasonable. Ordering her to change clothes in the back of a car was definitely unreasonable.
Even so, Grace was desperate. If she thought it would get it out of her hole, she’d do a hell of a lot more than flash her bra to a stranger. And Simon knew it.
A delicate position to be in, and not one she was used to. She wasn’t exactly powerless, though. He wanted Mark, and she could give him access. She just needed to figure out a way to use that to her advantage and give herself some semblance of power back.
Grace pulled her shirt over her head in a smooth move and bunched the material in front of herself to cover her bra. Then, with her shirt held over her breasts, she maneuvered her arms into the dress and pulled it on in one quick move. She shimmied it down her hips before she pulled off her boots. Undoing her pants, she slid them off and smoothed the dress on her legs.
There. Dressed in thirty seconds. Her makeup wasn’t the same as that disastrous night, and she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to give the flat, straight strands as much body as possible. The driver managed to avoid the worst of the traffic, and after lots of red lights and congestion, he pulled into an alley.
“This is where I’m meeting him?” she asked the driver.
The young man shot her an apologetic look. “Sorry, ma’am. He said to text him when I got here.”
She rolled her eyes and sat back against the seat, gathering her clothes into the bag the dress had originally been in. “Do you drive Mr. West often?” He’d taken a cab to her office earlier, so this kid probably wasn’t a permanent driver. But she had a feeling, no matter how casual Simon had made it sound, he wouldn’t have her undress in front of a complete stranger.
“A few times a week. He and the boss are buddies, so Mr. West gets a good discount.”
“Hmm…” Even with a discount, private cars were expensive. But Simon had already informed her exactly how exorbitant his fee was. Even for a small job like hers, he’d make over six figures. Well, she sure wasn’t going to feel guilty about all the wine she was going to put on his tab.
The door to the left of the car opened and Simon poked his head out. He gave a little wave to the driver and Grace gathered her belongings.
Simon opened the door. “Glad you made it.” He held a hand out to her and she stared at it for a moment. Somehow chivalry hadn’t seemed like his thing. To avoid being rude, she put her hand in his and allowed him to help her out of the car.
The warmth sunk into her as his strong fingers pulled her up. A bolt of electricity shot through her. The sudden, unexpected heat shocked her.
As she reached her full height in heels, she was only a few inches from Simon, and suddenly the heat from his fingers wasn’t the only warmth she felt. She stood so close that she could feel his body heat through her dress. Even as her mind told her it was time to back away, her eyes drifted up to meet his. As she made eye contact, she realized he stared at her just as intently. The shock broke the spell and Grace took a step back.
“Don’t worry about bringing your other clothes in,” said Simon. “Jason will take care of it.”
Grace frowned and set the bag back in the vehicle. “Take care of it how?” she asked as he turned and went back to the door he’d emerged from. He held it for her as she walked into some sort of nice kitchen area.
“I told him to package it up and send it to your apartment,” he said nonchalantly as though that was a normal task to assign a driver.
He weaved between furiously working sous chefs who were busy cutting vegetables and stirring various pots and pans. She matched his brisk pace, doing her best not to get in anyone’s way. She tried to get a peek at what was being served, but it was hard to focus on anything for too long while also following Simon and making sure she didn’t bump into anyone.
She let out a sigh of relief as Simon held the swinging door open for her, immediately comforted by the calm, quiet ambiance of the main dining room.
Simon continued to walk to one of the dimly lit corners of the room. “Right here.”
Her brows drew together as she got a good look at the booth. It wasn’t two separate sections, but a romantic, scalloped set up. The deep red cushioned seats were in the shape of a semi-circle with both plate settings very close together in the center.
She opened her mouth to ask him what exactly he was expecting, but he spoke first. “Trust me,” he said with a subtle tilt of his head.