by HELEN HARDT
Chapter Twenty-Six
“I’m still wearing his sweatpants and shirt,” I tell Tessa on the phone once I’m home. I turn the phone to speaker and hug myself. Wearing his clothes makes me feel…close to him, but it’s more than that. It’s like he let me take part of him home with me. “I can’t bring myself to take them off.”
“So the second time was just as good?” she says.
“Better.” I can’t stop the ridiculous smile that’s pasted on my face. I look toward my full hamper. Time to do some laundry. I need clean clothes to take to Braden’s. Which reminds me… “Oh, by the way…”
“What?”
I gather items from my hamper. “He kind of…destroyed your dress.”
“What?” she says again.
“He ripped it off me. Literally.”
No response for a few seconds. Is she in shock? Then, “When you say “literally” you mean literally.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, but he’s going to replace it. I just need to know where you got it.”
“Ross, I think.” She sighs. “It looked better on you than me anyway. Tell him it was Chanel and I’ll take the cash.”
“Tessa…”
She laughs. “For God’s sake, Skye, I’m kidding. Don’t worry about the dress. If it helped you let go and get laid, I’m happy to donate some clothes to the cause.”
“You’re the best, Tess. I’m really sorry.”
My phone beeps at me. “I’ve got another call. Hold on.” I look at the screen. Addison.
“It’s the boss,” I say.
“Braden?”
I guffaw. “Of course not. It’s Addie. I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow.”
I click on the next call. “Hey, Addie.”
“I guess you had quite the time last night.”
“It was okay. The post is doing well. I just checked it.”
“The post is fine. What were you doing there with Braden Black?”
Huh? How did she know? “What are you talking about?”
“Please. Photos are up on the MADD website. There’s a doozy of you and Braden sitting together at a prime table.”
I throw a dirty sock to the ground in irritation. “Braden was at the benefit. We said hello. Remember? I met him at the office that day?”
“You looked pretty cozy.”
I walk to the kitchen and put my Bluetooth in my ear. Then I fire up my laptop at the kitchen table and find the website. “We were just talking at a table.” And why is this any of your business?
“I told you he’s a douche, Skye.”
“He seems nice to me.”
Bingo! I find the photo. The caption reads, “Braden Black and friend.” At least the dance-floor lighting makes me look glam. I don’t recall anyone taking a photo, but of course, several photographers were working the ballroom.
“Are you sleeping with him?”
My cheeks warm and I actually feel my nostrils flare. “What kind of question is that?”
“A direct one.”
No kidding. “Who I sleep with is my business.”
“That answers it for me. He’s bad news.”
“I don’t even know him, Addie.” True words. But yeah, I’m sleeping with him.
“Take my advice,” she says. “Keep it that way. See you tomorrow.”
That’s it. She ends the call. I get up from the table and upend my hamper onto the floor. I’m mad as hell, and now I have to do fucking laundry. But first, I need to talk to Tessa again.
“She’s obviously jealous,” Tessa says into my ear after I call her back. “I can’t say I blame her.”
“I don’t think so,” I say. “She can’t stand him.”
“She says she can’t stand him.”
I consider Tessa’s words. Yeah, Addie and Braden have a history, but I’ve been working with her for more than a year and never once has she mentioned him despite his face being plastered all over the media.
“That’s probably it,” I lie. “See you tomorrow.”
Whatever Addie’s beef is with Braden, it’s not my problem.
…
Addie isn’t in the next morning when I get to the office. Monday mornings are always busy answering emails and checking all the posts for comments I may have missed over the weekend. I’ve got my nose buried in paperwork when someone enters the office.
“Good morning,” a female voice says.
I look away from the computer screen. An attractive brunette stands in front of my desk.
“Hi there,” I say. “May I help you?”
“I’m Kay Brown from the Boston Babbler.”
The Boston Babbler—our local tabloid rag that follows Addie around as if she were the Grateful Dead. “I’m afraid Addison isn’t in. Did you have an appointment?” I quickly access Addie’s calendar.
“No, I don’t.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure when she’ll be in.”
“I’m actually here to talk to you, Ms. Manning.”
I jerk in my chair. Did I hear her right?
“I’d like to talk to you about the photo of you and Braden Black at the MADD gala.”
“My name wasn’t on the photo.”
“It only took a bit of research to identify you.”
“A bit of research?”
“You’re Addison Ames’s assistant. You aren’t hard to find.”
“Exactly how—”
“I don’t disclose my sources. Suffice it to say I know everyone in this city.”
I nod. Including the event organizers, no doubt. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“So you’re not dating Braden Black?”
I stand. “I believe I said I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“That is you in the photo, though?”
“No comment.”
“Ms. Manning, you’re going to be outed sooner or later. I’d like to be the first to get the scoop on Braden Black’s new paramour.”
“Paramour? Are you kidding me? No comment.” I check my watch. “I’ve got a lunch date.”
“It’s eleven.”
“Yeah, I eat early. Since Addie’s not in, I need to close up the office. Please excuse me.” I grab my purse and walk out from behind the desk.
Just as Braden walks into the office.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Kay,” Braden says. “I can’t say I’m surprised to see you here, since you’ve already called my office three times today.”
“Mr. Black.” She holds out her hand. “A pleasure as always.”
He takes her hand and shakes it firmly. “If you’ll excuse us, I need to talk to Skye.”
“Of course. How long have you two been dating?”
I gulp. His answer to this question is far more important to me than it is to Kay. He certainly won’t say we’re sleeping together.
Then again, this is Braden. I’ve heard him say many things I never expected.
“We only met about a week ago,” he says.
“And your date at the gala?”
“We didn’t arrive together,” he says. “Ms. Manning and I saw each other at the gala and talked a bit.”
Another gulp. His response is clear and concise. I just wish he said we were dating.
“Your lunch date, Ms. Manning, is with Mr. Black?” Kay asks.
“No, it’s—”
“Yes, it is,” Braden says. “Are you ready, Skye?”
I clear my throat. At least this will get rid of Kay. “Yeah, I’m ready. I need to lock up.”
“Of course.” Kay walks out the door and then turns and looks over her shoulder. “I’ll be in touch. With both of you.” She turns and leaves.
“Thanks for the save,” I say. “I thought she was here to see Addie.”
“I figured she’d bother you this morning after she called my office and mentioned you by name.”
“You came here to warn me?”
“In part.”
“In part?”
“Yeah. I thought you might be up for an early lunch.”
“Sorry. I’m meeting Tessa in an hour.”
He narrows his eyes and his gaze seems to melt me. “Cancel.”
Cancel.
One word. One unremarkable word in his deep, raspy voice, and I want to obey him without question.
I grasp the edge of my desk to keep from toppling over. “I can’t. Tess and I always have lunch on Mondays.” And most other days, for that matter, unless one of us is working over the noon hour.
My phone buzzes. It’s Tessa. “Excuse me for a minute,” I say to Braden. “Hey, Tess.”
“You’re never going to believe what happened. A courier just delivered a package to my office from Braden.”
“Oh?” A sliver of jealousy knifes through me.
“Yeah. It’s my dress, Skye. Or a perfect replica. I can’t even believe it. I told you not to worry about it.”
I clear my throat. “He said he’d replace it.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say this is the exact dress, but it can’t be. It doesn’t have a label.”
“Hold on a minute.” I mute the phone and turn to Braden. “She got the dress.”
“Good.”
“She says it’s perfect. Did you get it repaired?”
“It was beyond repair, as you know.”
“Then how did you…?”
“I gave the remains to my personal tailor yesterday, along with your Instagram photo. He was able to replicate it.”
My jaw drops. “In a day?”
“I’m a very good customer.” He smirks.
I hold back an eye roll and unmute the phone. “His tailor replicated it yesterday,” I tell Tessa.
“Well, tell him a thousand thank-yous. I just took a closer look, and the fabric is much better quality than the original.”
“You can tell him yourself.” I hand the phone to Braden.
“Ms. Logan,” he says.
Pause.
“You’re very welcome. Any time.”
Pause.
“Actually, there is something you can do for me.”
Pause.
“Let me take Skye to lunch today. You can have lunch with her tomorrow.”
Pause.
“I appreciate that. And you don’t have to keep thanking me. Have a good day.” He hands the phone back to me.
“Tess?” I say.
But she already hung up.
Braden stares at me, his eyes full of blue fire. “Seems you’re free for lunch after all, Skye.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Tessa said you sent the dress to her office,” I say to Braden after we order our meal at a cute little French bistro. “How did you know where she works?”
“That kind of information isn’t hard to find,” he replies.
“Not when you can pay for it,” I say. “Just out of curiosity, how much did that dress cost you on such short notice?”
His lips twitch. I think he might smile, but he doesn’t. “I never discuss personal purchases.”
“Oh?”
“No. It’s no one’s business how much I pay for anything.”
I can’t argue the point. He’s right. “Well, it was nice of you. Very nice.”
“I said I’d replace it.”
“I know, but I didn’t expect you to actually replicate it. Why would you do that?”
Braden takes a sip of water. “Because I can.”
I’m not sure what to say to that. I like that he doesn’t discuss his purchases. That’s cool, in my book. How much of Braden is nouveau riche, and how much is old-school blue-collar? I’d like to find out, but he’s such a puzzle.
A puzzle I’d really like to put together.
Yes. I like him. I like Braden Black. A lot. I thought Addie was right at first, that he was a jerk, but now? He appeals to me, which frightens me, because he already told me he couldn’t have a relationship with me. He didn’t tell me why, and it’s too soon to ask.
I want to date him. If I spent more time with him outside the bedroom, maybe I could figure him out. Maybe I could make him want a relationship.
“Skye,” he says.
“Yeah?”
“It might interest you to know that I had my tailor make two dresses.”
I swallow the sip of water I just took. “Oh?”
“I did. You’ll be wearing that dress again, but the next time you’ll be on my arm, and there won’t be any question as to who you’re with.”
I suppress a smile. “Will you destroy it again?”
He stares at me, those blue eyes a hypnotic sapphire flame. “Yes. Definitely.”
My cheeks warm, and I know I’m turning about twelve shades of vibrant red. “When exactly will I be on your arm?”
“You decide.”
I let out a short laugh. “It’s a cocktail dress, Braden. It might surprise you to know that I don’t frequent a lot of formal affairs.”
“You will now. I’m invited to a lot of them, and since you insist on dating, you’ll be accompanying me.”
“If I insist?”
His eyes darken. “I want you in my bed, Skye. If taking you out sometimes is the way to make that happen, I’ll do it.”
“What if I want more than that?”
“What more is there?”
“A…relationship.”
He taps his fingers on the table. “I’ve told you I can’t be in a relationship with you.”
“Yeah, but you haven’t told me why.”
He wrinkles his forehead. Is he thinking about how to answer my question? Or is he getting angry? I can’t tell. Braden always has a touch of anger about him. In truth, it’s part of what attracts me to him—his darkness, the mystery that hovers around him like a dense cloud.
“The only reason I can give you is that I don’t want a relationship.”
“Why?”
He rubs his temple. “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that. But there is no answer.”
“You mean there’s no answer that will satisfy me.”
“Semantics, as you like to say.”
“I like you, Braden.”
He doesn’t smile, but his demeanor seems to lighten a bit. “I like you, too. I don’t sleep with people I don’t like.”
“You didn’t let me finish. I like you, but why me? You can have any woman out there. You must know that.”
“I’ve told you.”
“Yeah. You like my lips and my breasts. So do plenty of other men, and sexy lips and big tits aren’t that hard to find.”
“I won’t deny that those are fine features of yours, but I also told you the thing I like most about you. Your need for control.”
I take a sip of water and set my glass down more harshly than I mean to. “So I’m a game. If I give you control, you win. Is that it?”
“If you give me control, we both win.”
“And how long do you expect this arrangement to last?” I ask. “Until you get tired of me?”
That finally gets a chuckle from him. “As long as you want it to.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Why is that?”
I huff softly. “Because you can have anyone. You’ll get tired of me long before I get tired of you.”
“Don’t be so sure of that.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You’ll see.”
I’ll see? What the heck does that mean?
The waiter brings our meals, and I study the coq au vin on my pla
te. I inhale the scent of burgundy, chicken, and mushroom. It smells heavenly, but I’m not at all hungry after this conversation.
Why would I grow tired of Braden?
The question interests me not only because I can’t imagine it but also because he intimated I might at some point in the future.
He’s bad news.
Addie’s words.
Tessa felt Addie is probably jealous, and she has a point, but I’m not convinced. Addie and I aren’t exactly friends. Being friends with your boss is never a great idea, and in Addie’s case, it isn’t possible anyway. We come from two different worlds.
As do Braden and I.
Braden takes a bite of his sole and swallows. “Nothing to say? That’s not like you.” He rises and lays his napkin across the back of his chair. He removes his phone from his pocket, crouches down next to me, and snaps a selfie of us. “What the hell? Let’s get them talking.”
“You’re Instagramming?”
“Kay will have the whole city talking about us within a day, so why not? You’re not embarrassed to be seen with me, are you?”
Seriously? “Of course not.”
“Then there’s no problem that I can see.” He fiddles with his phone for a few seconds.
My phone dings in my purse.
“Tagged you,” he says.
I pull out my phone. Same as last time. It’s blowing up with notifications.
“You should make your profile public,” he says.
“Why?”
“Because my followers will want to know you.”
“I’m a private person, Braden.”
“Not anymore.”
I lift my eyebrows. He’s right. Kay Brown accosted me at my workplace. She’ll no doubt be the first of many. “I didn’t sign up for this.”
He laughs. A solid laugh, so unlike him, and I revel in the joyful sound.
“You did, though. You wanted to date, Skye. This is what dating me is like.”
I keep my jaw from dropping open.
“In fact,” he continues, “I’m on my way to do some charity work. Why don’t you join me?”
“You do charity work?”
“Does that surprise you?”
“No.” Though it does. Someone as rich as Braden can simply write a check rather than do the work. I’m glad he’s willing to put in the time as well. Makes him even more attractive than he already is.
