Okay, fine. I’d had a moment of weakness in the shower the night of the kiss. A little alone time with my right hand and then some with my left—because I liked to mix things up. But after that moment, the kiss had gone into the strictly special category that was off-limits for wank sessions.
So I settled for the little bits I had. Blushing smiles, the way I’d seen the hint of an outline from her underwear when she knelt down to get something under her desk, or even that intoxicating scent of hers.
“What do you think, Barry?” Mrs. Glass asked.
I started. Several of the highest ranking members of Glass Design were sitting around the table, and they were all looking at me. Thankfully, I’d always thrived in the spotlight. I just had to jog my memory on what the hell they’d been talking about. I glanced around the room for clues. There was a poster of some sketched outfits. There was a model of a little building in the center of the table. Elizabeth had said something about how the Spring show would be the perfect place to reveal the new clothing line. Her suggestion had been met with muted enthusiasm—I remembered that because it had pissed me off.
“I think Elizabeth is right,” I said after I quickly took in the scene. “We should bring the new line to the Spring show.”
“Why?” Mrs. Glass asked.
Dammit. This was like when my math teacher used to always ask me to show my work. I couldn’t show the work because I’d copied the answer from Heather Lockland. Obviously.
“Well,” I said. I opened my eyes wider and raised my eyebrows. Sometimes, people were more convincing if they got really animated. Or they just looked crazy. “Because Elizabeth has a little surprise she’s been cooking up.”
She bulged her eyes at me and tried to shake her head. Oops. Too late, sorry.
“I’m sure you’re all familiar with Callie Rose?” I asked, raising my eyebrows even more. Of course they were. Callie Rose was a child TV star turned successful musician and she somehow found time to be on practically every talk show. They’d also made a pretty kickass documentary about her last year.
My question—and raised eyebrows—drew speculative murmurs from around the table.
“Well, Elizabeth managed to get Callie to agree to perform at one of our events. She’s going to be out of the country for a world tour, but I happen to know she’s available this Spring. We should get her while she’s still popular and before she changes her mind. I think that’s what Elizabeth is thinking, anyway.”
“Is this true?” Mrs. Glass asked.
Elizabeth looked at me, clearly pissed, then back to Mrs. Glass. “Yes. Sorry, I was planning to tell you in private,” she added with another glare my way. “I wanted you to have the opportunity to decide if this was something you wanted before I brought it up in front of everyone.”
I’d learned Mrs. Glass was a very odd woman. She was the sort of extreme eccentric that some people mistook for stern. She actually got up from her chair, did a little swimming with clench fists style dance, then punched the air in celebration. “Callie fucking Rose!” she rasped. “You continue to impress me, Elizabeth. Very good. Very good,” she repeated, punctuating the words by slapping her palm on the table twice. She calmed herself and sat back down. The others at the table were smiling and exchanging looks, except for Rand. Rand was in his forties, balding, and reminded me of one of those prairie dogs. He was tall, narrow, and definitely a weasel.
He was glaring at the news. Because he wants Elizabeth’s job. I made a mental note of that one. On the one hand, I was going to absolutely cock block any attempt this asshole made to screw with Elizabeth. On the other hand, someone ambitious like that might find himself some juicy information on Mrs. Glass. Maybe he’d be my secret weapon.
“So what is this going to cost us?” Mrs. Glass asked.
“That’s the best part,” I jumped in. “Elizabeth convinced Callie to do it for free. All we have to do is let her have access to our latest designer pieces on her world tour. She has been getting blasted in the media for being boring, and Elizabeth convinced her this would be a win-win.”
Elizabeth looked to me again, but this time I thought I sensed a hint of appreciation there.
“Incredible,” Mrs. Glass breathed. “Take tomorrow off. Both of you. Enjoy your day and bill me for whatever you decide to do with your time. You’ve earned it.”
“Mrs. Glass, I have a lot of—”
“No, no. I won’t hear it. You’re going to take tomorrow off and you’re going to enjoy it. In fact, I want Barry to personally see to it. I have a feeling Barry would know exactly how to show you a good time. And I expect a full report on all the fun you had when you come back Wednesday.”