He leans in, the lines of his suit and face appearing even sharper up close. “I don’t care about your firm’s track record. I don’t know you. I’m not telling my life story to People or to you.”
He heads for the door and I swallow a sigh.
Once it’s the two of us, Camila says, “I’m sorry about Aiden. He’s an acquired taste. But Richard is hell-bent on the right publicity for this. He wants us to be the face of the new resorts. Unofficially, of course. Honestly, I’m ready to get out of the spotlight during the bachelorette weekend.”
I frown. “Where is it being held?”
“The Vineyard. The company has a property we’ve booked for the entire weekend, no other guests allowed. It’s a place to relax.”
The wheels of my mind turn as I search for a way to make something from their relationship that the public would view as romantic. “Would you be open to doing something there aimed at bolstering your profile? Small and time bound. Say, the first afternoon you arrive.”
Camila toys with the handle of her Prada bag, reluctant. “If it would help, I suppose so,” she decides at last. “I’ll have Aiden’s assistant book you a room.”
“It’s no trouble. I’ll follow up myself.”
Once she leaves, I call Aiden’s assistant who confirms that yes, in ten days, there’s a weekend trip to the Vineyard which includes a farm tour one afternoon, and a reception before the bachelor and bachelorette parties. Attire for the reception is cocktail.
That makes me feel calmer in one way, as though I’ve averted the crisis for now, but it raises another issue.
I make a call to Rena. “Are you free for lunch? I have an important thing I need your help with.”
“Rogue client?”
“Kind of.” I fill her in on the Vineyard situation. “I have outfits I could wear, but I think I need something more like armor. Expensive armor. Could I borrow something designer?”
“No. For Aiden Vane’s pre-wedding event at the Vineyard, we’re going shopping.”
I consider saying that’s unnecessary, but the truth is there are different rules for dealing with people like the Vanes.
Dressing like a badass entrepreneur is something I learned since college, but this is a next-level gig. A tailored dress and pumps from Macy’s won’t cut it.
“Okay.”
We meet at a boutique on Fifth Avenue. On my way there, my phone buzzes.
Ben: We need to talk about Tris’s birthday tomorrow. He has a booth at this club. We should make an appearance.
I make a face.
Daisy: Not my scene or yours.
Ben: He doesn’t believe we’re together. Darling.
The pointed endearment doesn’t escape me. We acknowledge the importance of Tris buying us as a couple. If he doesn’t, this thing is a nonstarter.
Daisy: Can we talk tonight? I’m kind of in the middle of something.
Ben: Where are you?
I text him back the intersection, then shove the phone away as I see Rena waiting for me inside the doors of the boutique.
“I’m sure I could have borrowed a dress from you,” I insist as I glance at one of the mannequins. “I don’t need to spend”—I lift one of the tags, and one of my eyebrows lifts with it—“four thousand dollars on a dress.”
She stops me on the way to the door. “It’s an investment.”
There is something to be said for looking the part.
“I appreciate what you and Kendall are doing by helping with other clients while I pursue this.”
She flips her chic ponytail, her mouth curving. “Come on, fearless leader. This will be a huge win for Closer. I’d say you can buy drinks when you land Vane, but you always seem to anyway.”
“Oh, you’ll be getting more than drinks,” I promise. Like a bonus, which I’m sure she and Kendall could both use, even though it’s not the reason they work with me. But I’m keeping that a surprise for now.
Rena tilts her head toward a rack. “Good. Now, tell me you’re taking your new boyfriend.”
I pull up. “What did you hear?”
“Ben’s brother texted to ask me if it was true that you and Ben were dating. I told him I’d heard nothing.”
Dammit.
“Well?” she prompts.
“Well, we are,” I say, holding up a black dress. It’s simple and classic, with exquisite fabric and tailoring.
“Hmmm.” Her eyes brighten as she dodges past me, returning with a red fitted dress that looks three sizes too small. “In that case…”
“It’s not in Vegas.”
“You’re right.” She grabs a nude one also.
“There’s no way I’m wearing those in front of clients,” I say as a saleswoman swoops in and collects the black dress from me, plus the other two from Rena before I can protest.
My colleague smiles sweetly. “In front of Ben, then. Since we’re already here.”
Rena heads for the change rooms and I hold back a groan.
Inside, I strip out of my work clothes and slip on the black dress. It’s actually beautiful and fits well. I open the door and show Rena.
“Perfect for a board meeting. Now the others.” She nods toward the two hanging on the hook, folding her arms. “I’m not letting you out until you try them.”
“Fine. But give me a few inches. I can’t do it with you breathing down my neck.”
Rena heads back out to the floor.
I turn to the red dress. It’s sleeveless with a scoop neck and totally fitted, with a back zipper that ends dangerously low on my hips below a keyhole cutout mid back. I like my clothes a little edgy, but classic enough to last too. This checks the boxes and is a bold color.
The cut pushes the envelope more than I normally would for work though. But maybe with a jacket overtop…
The zipper gets stuck.
I knew this was a size too small, and it’s probably three hundred dollars worth of hardware.
“Excuse me,” I call out the door.
I try to work the zipper free, but only end up more stuck.
A knock comes at the door, and I pull it open.
It’s not the saleswoman or Rena. It’s someone who has no business in the change rooms of a women’s boutique, and looks disarmingly at home here nonetheless.
Ben’s wearing a charcoal suit, shirt open at the collar and tie gone. His messy hair falls into his face at the front, those magnetic eyes boring into mine.
“I told you we need to talk about tomorrow night. I saw Rena through the window.” He pushes inside and shuts the door after him.
I fold my arms over my chest, trying to hide the fact that my entire back and part of my ass are hanging out of this dress.
“Tris suspects this is bullshit. The best way to quash it is to go out tomorrow.”
I press a hand to my face. “Remind me why house music and plastic cups and sticky floors are important?”
“They’re not. Making everyone believe we’re together so you can land Vane is important. If we don’t sell my brother on it, there’s no way anyone else will buy it.”
I groan silently, reaching behind me to try the zipper again.