by Dani Rene
Attached is a photo of her window, which overlooks the billboard we shot a couple of days ago. I can’t believe how quickly they got that out there. I’m dressed in a pair of black, tight boxer briefs, which leave very little to the imagination, and I can’t help groaning.
Colton: Most women would pay a fortune for that view every day, and you get it for free, Sweet Treat.
Violet: Mmm, I hope most women aren’t going to dinner with you as well.
Colton: Are you jealous?
Violet: I don’t know what that word means.
I laugh. Sure she doesn’t. But then again, if she told me she was going out with some wanker for dinner, I wouldn’t be happy. Strangely enough, I know I have no claim on her. It’s not like we’re dating or exclusive, but I don’t like the thought of her with someone else.
Colton: Sure, you don’t. I’ll see you tonight, pick you up from your apartment, just text me the address. And don’t forget to wear something pretty.
I know she’s going to sass me for that comment, but I smile anyway before I head to the shower. If I can wake the hell up, I’ll be able to focus on where to take her tonight. Somewhere special, private, and romantic.
It’s not a date.
It’s just dinner.
But is it?
12
Violet
I twist and turn, looking at myself in the mirror for the hundredth time since I slipped on my underwear. It’s nothing special, because I’m most certainly not taking that step with him, but there’s still a niggling in my gut to put something sexier on.
For a long moment, I consider it but shake my head and, instead, decide against the sexier option.
A man like him and a woman like me would normally not be a great match. He’s in the spotlight constantly, whereas I prefer spending my time with my nose in a book.
Sighing, I tug at the waistband of my panties. The underwear is black, simple, and elegant. Not that Colton’s going to see it, but it makes me feel good.
I grab the dress and quickly slide it up my body. The material hugs my curves, and the thin straps slink over my shoulders. I went for black, just like Ida recommended. Slipping on the heels, I smile at my reflection. My shoes are black with a strap around the heel. They also give me some height, but also ensuring my calves look toned when I’m walking. And if he wanted to kiss me, it would put me at a perfect height to…
No.
What the hell am I thinking?
It’s not a date.
Our back and forth messages this morning were fun. I hadn’t really enjoyed texting someone in such a long time, I forgot how freeing it is. It’s not like talking on the phone, where they can hear you breathing, listening to your every word, and it’s not like being face-to-face.
A text message can be as simple and as complex as you want to make it. The only problem is, sometimes it can be taken the wrong way. Thankfully, with Colton, it’s not a problem. His light-hearted banter was what I needed to get through the day, and I couldn’t stop smiling as I wrote my article for the new line of purses that Versace is releasing for their summer line.
My phone rings the next second, startling me from my thoughts. Clarissa’s name flickers on the screen, and I know I have to answer it in the event it being something urgent.
“Hello.”
“Violet.” Clarissa says my name in her stoic, serious manner, and I can tell she’s not in a good mood by the tone of her voice. I close my eyes and wait for it, hoping nothing has happened to the articles I submitted for publication. But she shocks me when she says, “I’m flying to LA tomorrow, and I need you in the office until six to finish off both articles and get them to editorial as soon as possible. I’ll be checking my email, but I’m leaving you in charge of this. Can you handle it?”
“Of course,” I gush as my heart thuds wildly against my ribs. I’ve been waiting for months to show her I’m able to take on the responsibility, and one day, hopefully, be seated where she is. “You can count on me.”
She taps on her keyboard, and I hear the ping in my ear. She’s sent me a meeting request, I’m sure. I’m bouncing on my heels as I think about running her office for a few days. It’s not much, but it’s something. It shows she trusts me.
“There’s something else I’d like to talk to you about,” she says. My chest tightens with worry because I have a feeling I know what she wants to talk to me about. “This… situation,” Clarissa speaks while keeping her voice controlled, aloof, but tense with something I can’t quite put my finger on. “I don’t want it getting in the way of your job.”
I can only guess she’s talking about Colton. We haven’t even gone out yet, and she’s already worried. Tonight will be our first date, well, dinner. “I can assure you that my professionalism will not falter.” I hope I sound confident because I need her to know that my job means everything to me.
“I understand that. And I know what it’s like dating someone in the public eye. It’s definitely not a walk in the park. It’s not traditional is what I mean. If he does anything… If his name appears in the tabloids for anything negative, that can impact you as well.”
I knew it was a risk when I agreed to dinner. Being with a man who’s been photographed more times than I’ve taken selfies is daunting, but the thought of my name being splashed across newspapers is far worse.
“I understand, and I’ll make sure to be careful,” I tell her, closing my eyes while I wait for her to respond. Being with Colton is going to be a challenge, I know that. But I can’t say much more than I already have because I have no idea how tonight is going to go.
“Good.” More tapping comes over the line and then, “Enjoy your evening.” She hangs up before I have time to respond. My stomach is flip-flopping at the way my life has changed seemingly overnight.
Two challenges await me—a date with a world-famous underwear model, and my job taking on a whole new path—and emotion clogs my throat when I attempt to swallow.
I tap out a message to the one person who knows how hard I’ve worked. And I pray she doesn’t guilt trip me as she always does. My sister has always been the more outgoing of the two of us. With her looks and her job, I’ve always lived in her shadow, and I’m thankful I finally have something that’s mine.
The buzzer to my apartment sounds throughout the living room, bouncing all the way into the bedroom. I throw my phone on the bed before heading to the door. Peeking through the peephole, I see Colton on the other side, and my stomach has another bout of flurrying butterflies before I open the door.
“Hi.” He offers me a grin that makes everything south of my belly button tingle. Why does he have to be so gorgeous?
I return his greeting with a smile of my own. “Hi.” For a moment, we stand in silence. “Shit, come inside,” I splutter. “I’m sorry. I’m almost ready.”
“That’s fine, there’s no rush.” When he steps inside my apartment, I have to pinch myself to believe this is real. It’s been a long time since I’ve been alone in here with a guy. Usually, with dates, they end and start at the restaurant or cinema. But having him inside my personal space is different. A good different, but still alarming.
“You look nice,” I mumble, taking in his black slacks that seem to be painted onto muscled thighs and an ass that would make any sane woman lose her mind. His button-up shirt hugs his broad shoulders with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I get a magnificent view of the corded veins under the smooth, tanned skin of his forearms.
He glances at me with a raised brow. “Are you flirting with me, Violet?” he questions with that thick British accent that does stupid things to my libido.
“I don’t flirt,” I retort hotly, making Colton chuckle. The sound vibrates through his chest like a promise of seductive laughter.
“It’s all right, you know,” he insists.
Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I ask, “What is?” Colton shoves his hands into his pockets, his head lowered, and he lifts his gaze to mine. The almost i
nnocent way he’s looking at me doesn’t hide the desire dancing in those endless ocean eyes.
“Flirting.” One word dripping with a husky need falls from his impossibly beautiful lips. “It’s all right to step outside of your comfort zone sometimes, Violet. When you do, good things happen.”
“Tonight is dinner,” I insist, but I’m trying to convince myself more than I am informing him. As much as I want to deny my attraction to Colton, I can’t. It’s right there, and the thought turns my cheeks hot.
“Dinner.” He nods.
I rush into the bedroom, leaving him to grab my purse and my phone. When I walk into the living room a few seconds later, I notice him looking at the photo of me and my sister, Victoria. I always remember my mom telling us she almost named her Jolene. Yeah, my mother enjoyed country music while she was pregnant with my sister.
“I’m ready,” I tell him, causing him to turn around. Once more, his appraisal is done with those eyes, and I can’t stop the shiver trickling down my spine. His nearness doesn’t help as I pull open the door, and Colton steps up behind me.
His tall frame looms over me, his warm breath at my neck, sending waves of pleasure through me. I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. Get a hold of yourself.
Once I’ve locked my apartment, we make our way to the elevator in silence. The moment the doors slide shut, Colton glances at me.
“You know, I don’t bite. Unless you really want me to,” he flirts. I glance down, noticing how tightly my fingers are gripping my purse.
“I’m not great on dates,” I admit.
“So, it is a date?” he challenges, a naughty smirk dancing across his lips as his curious, yet mischievous gaze sweeps to mine. Colton’s confidence seems to grow by just watching his effect on me. I want to refuse him, to tell him I made a mistake and show him the door. But instead, I follow him to the waiting car. He opens the door, and I slip inside.
Soon, the driver pulls out into the evening traffic, which seems to be never-ending. I focus on the world outside instead of looking at the man who’s staring at me. I can feel his eyes on my body. It’s as if his hands are all over me.
“Tell me about you,” he requests from my left, and I finally force myself to look at him. I can’t hide the effect he has on me. It’s clear, and I can’t help but chastise myself for it.
“What would you like to know?”
“Well, you’re nothing like the girls I normally am photographed with or the girls in the industry who show interest. You’re the one I want to be with.” His words are sobering. Not that I’m not like the girls he usually spends his days around, but because he said he’s choosing me.
“Are you trying to tell me you’re forced to be with these beautiful women outside of work?” I challenge, crossing my arms over my chest to calm my shaking hands.
“Most times, yes, because of the publicity. You look at me and see the face on thousands of billboards,” Colton states, his voice lowering to a whisper. “But I’m much more than that. And I’d like to show you who that man is.” The earnest tone of his voice settles in my chest, reminding me that I’m judging him without knowing who he is.
“Okay,” I acknowledge as the car pulls to a stop outside a restaurant that boasts the best pizza in town. “I’ll give you that.” This is my promise before we exit the car and find ourselves in a small corner of one of the busiest cities in the world. When I join Colton on the sidewalk, I look up at him with a grin. “So, you’re hiding me away in a small pizzeria in the middle of nowhere?”
“There’s no way I could ever want to hide you,” he proclaims. A cocky wink along with that grin makes my stomach flip-flop. “But for now, let’s get to know each other, and then, when you’re ready, I’m going to announce us to the world.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for the world.” He ignores my response because he doesn’t even answer me. Instead, he links his hand with mine before leading me into the restaurant that’s lit up in reds and greens, some white here and there, but it’s filled with the fragrance of tomatoes and oregano, which only makes my stomach grumble.
“I think someone’s hungry,” Colton teases as we are taken to a booth in the back of the restaurant. He waits for me to settle before sitting down opposite me.
“I haven’t eaten since lunch,” I admit when I consider the last time I had anything more than coffee, or water for that matter.
“Then you should eat before you have any wine,” he expresses earnestly. “I wouldn’t want you thinking I’m going to take advantage of a drunk woman.”
“Oh, please, you wouldn’t get that far.” My retort earns me a chuckle as we scan the menus for drinks and food. Everything sounds good, but it may just be because I’m hungry. Under my lashes, I glance at Colton, who looks as enamored with his options as I am. But I find myself looking at him more than I am at the list.
“I’m having a pizza, with pineapple and anchovies,” he announces after a short while, causing my nose to crinkle.
“Are you serious?” The sparkle of mischief in his eyes has me rolling mine. He’s more playful than seductive right now, and I decide I like both sides of the man I’ve seen so far. But I have a feeling there’s so much more under the attractive exterior.
“No.” He laughs. “I’m getting a Margherita. It’s simple, classic, and it’s deliciously cheesy,” he tells me then.
“Just like you.”
His smile reaches his eyes, his laugh bubbles in his throat, and the sound is as sexy as he is. I’ve never thought about a man’s laugh, but right now, I want to hear his even more. The waitress appears at that moment to take our order, but her eyes are glued to Colton. And to be fair, I don’t blame her one bit.
13
Colton
“I’ll have a Margherita and a lager,” I inform our waitress, ignoring the fluttering of her lashes. Turning my gaze on Violet, I gesture for her to proceed.
“I’ll have the same,” she shocks me when she orders. I didn’t expect her to want a lager. Once we’re alone, she glances at me, a small smile tilting her full lips. “What?”
“Lager? Didn’t peg you for a beer-drinking kind of girl,” I profess honestly. Each time I’ve spoken to her, she’s surprised me.
Violet shrugs. “I wanted to try it. I may hate it,” she explains. “But why not try something new? Since this” — she waves her hand between her and me — “is very new to me.”
“You’ve never been on a date?”
She grins playfully, and her eyes sparkle with mischief when she declares, “Not with an underwear model.”
“Like I said, that’s not only who I am.” I lean my arms on the table, wanting to get closer to her. The gentle scent of her perfume intoxicates me. Sweet, but not cloying like some women’s fragrances do to me. “I grew up with a single mom. We had a small flat in London, and I would catch the train to school every day.”
Her eyes widen, but she once again shocks me and doesn’t ask about my nonexistent father. “Any siblings?”
“Only child.”
“That explains the cockiness,” Violet teases right before our drinks arrive. I pick mine up and hold it out toward her. She clinks my glass before we both take a long sip of the bitter alcohol.
“Why does it explain the cockiness?”
“Well, I’m guessing you were quite a naughty boy,” she cajoles, her tone light and playful. But she’s completely right. I was a nightmare.
“I was quite the lad,” I inform her. “I mean, look at me.” I can’t help winking at her, which makes a blush bloom on her cheeks.
I’m astounded at just how beautiful this woman is. And I’ve spent most of my adult life around models that young girls aspire to be like. But Violet outshines every woman on each glossy page of the magazines I’ve worked with.
“But in all seriousness, I was my mom’s boy. I still am. She went through some dark times. But I never wanted for anything. We didn’t have much at that stage, but I had dinner every eve
ning, and I studied hard to make sure I could one day give her everything she needed as she got older.”
I don’t know why I’m admitting all this to her, but Violet’s eyes gloss with emotion as she watches me. I’ve never been open to people, never allowed myself to admit my past. The only person who knows about all those dark times would be Simon.
“You were right, “Violet states.
I sit back, twisting the glass on the table, but I keep my gaze on her. “About?”
“You are more than you appear,” she affirms with a nod. “I guess I was bad at judging you before knowing you.”
“I think it’s something everyone does, even when they don’t mean to. We grow up in societies that show us that outer appearances mean more than personality,” I assert earnestly. Our dinner arrives, and it smells delicious. We order another two beers, and I can’t help but smile at Violet drinking lager with me. Most women I’ve been with prefer their fancy cocktails or wine, but as I watch her drink down the last of the beer, I realize I’ve also judged her unfairly. There is so much more to the beauty than meets the eye.
“You’re right.” Violet nods. “We do look at the appearance of someone, anyone, and we think we know what they’re like. It’s maddening to know there are people out there who may miss the opportunity of love, or a job, just because they don’t fit a certain precedent.”
“Tell me, what’s your precedent?” I ask before biting into the warm, melty goodness of the pizza. Flavors burst on my tongue, and I can’t help but groan.
“About?” she asks with a smile, a cheesy string sticking to her chin, and without thinking, I reach over and swipe it away, bringing it to my lips and tasting it from my thumb. Another deep-pink blush appears on her cheeks. There’s an innocence about her, a shyness I find alluring.
“Men.”
Violet considers this for a moment. “I just want someone who will accept me for who I am. I’m not going to change to make someone like me. I think too many women do that, and it’s sad. I’m shy, yes, but I’m also quirky, I enjoy a good movie and even a night out, but there are times I like to relax at home on my couch.”
