A soft tap at the door caused their hands to repel from each other as they both turned to see who was there. She saw it was her long-time assistant as she poked her head inside.
“Yes, Betsy?”
“I’m sorry to interrupt. I just wanted you to know that Mr. Randall is here for your three-o’clock appointment.”
“Thank you.” Violet looked down at her Rolex and realized the time with Aidan had flown by faster than she’d expected it to. “Well, at least we got a great start on planning. With your first check, you can start renovations on the house. In the meantime, I’ll get more of the gala information together for you to look over later this week.”
“Okay. This all sounds really great, Violet. There’s only one problem I can foresee.”
Violet straightened up in her seat. She didn’t like the sound of that. She worked really hard with the foundation to ensure that every event went flawlessly. “What’s that?”
“You’re planning a black-tie affair and I don’t own a tuxedo,” Aidan said with an apologetic smile.
* * *
Even at the peak of his advertising career, Aidan hadn’t owned an expensive suit. He had some that were nice—nicer than anything else he’d owned in his whole life—but they weren’t even close to the kind of clothes in the windows that Violet was perusing.
Ralph Lauren, Tom Ford, Giorgio Armani...all he could see were dollar signs running through his brain. He shouldn’t have said anything to Violet, he knew now. He’d set her on a mission. He should’v
e just shown up at the ball in a black rented penguin suit and no one would’ve known or cared where it came from.
But Violet apparently cared.
“I think an Armani or Tom Ford is the right style for you,” she said aloud as they looked into the windows at the store on Fifth Avenue. “They’re trending toward a slimmer fit this season. It will require less tailoring.”
Aidan followed her inside the Armani boutique with a dismayed expression on his face. He could hardly afford the food served inside at the restaurant, much less a tuxedo there. That thought hadn’t occurred to Violet, however. She surged ahead, eyeballing the displays for just the right look.
It didn’t take long for Aidan to mentally check out of the situation. After eyeing a pair of sunglasses he liked and nearly choking at the cost, he leaned against the wall and let his eyes glaze over while she shopped. He focused on her movements as she sauntered back and forth in a tight black pencil skirt that hugged her curves. The sway of her hips was hypnotizing, sending his mind into a full-fledged fantasy that included that skirt up around her hips and a mess of previously folded clothes on the nearby display scattered on the floor.
“Aidan?” she said in a cross tone a few minutes later.
He snapped out of it, realizing it was her beautiful irritated face, and not her ass, that was front and center at the moment. “Yes?”
“I already have a dress to wear to the party,” she said. “I came here to help you find something nice to wear and you’re not paying any attention to me. I need your input to find something that will work.”
“How about you find me a suit with fewer than four digits in the price and I’ll wear it?” he challenged. Pushing off from the wall with his shoulder, he strolled over to where Violet was standing with her arms crossed. “I don’t know what kind of people typically come to the Niarchos Foundation for help, but I assure you I wouldn’t be asking for money if I could lay out four grand for a tuxedo I’ll wear one night.”
Violet looked at him with concern lining her brow. “This night is important for you, Aidan. You’re going to meet the people that will help you make Molly’s House a success. They need to have confidence in you, and part of that is looking the part.”
“I want to look competent. I don’t want to look like I’m skimming from my own charity to line my pockets.”
“Think of it this way. A nice, quality suit is a good investment. If you pick the right one, you’ll be able to wear it your whole life.”
“I’ll be wearing it every damn day, Violet, because I’ll have to sell all my other clothes to pay for it.”
She sighed and twisted her lips in thought. Reaching out to a nearby rack, she pulled a sleeve toward her to glance at the price tag then let it drop. Turning back to Aidan, she narrowed her gaze. “We’re getting you a suit. It’s my treat. I insist.”
Aidan held out his hands to fend off her misplaced generosity. “Oh, no. No, no, no. You are not my fairy godmother, Violet, and I’m not letting you buy me a suit for the ball. Absolutely not. I’ll wear sweatpants to the gala before I let you do that.” He meant it. It was one thing for Molly’s House to be a charity case for the foundation. He wasn’t about to be her personal charity case, no matter how badly she wanted to give him a makeover.
“I can afford it. Let me do this for you. As a thank-you for letting us stay with you at your apartment.”
Aidan could feel a surge of irritation rise up his neck making him tug at the collar of his shirt. He was regretting mentioning his need of a tuxedo almost the moment he’d said it. The light had come on in her eyes and he knew he was in trouble. “Violet, you have more money than some small countries. I get that. I also get that you are a thoughtful person and you like helping people when you can. But I need you to look at this from my perspective.”
“And how is that?”
Aidan crossed his arms over his chest to keep from curling his hands into fists of frustration. “I’m a grown-ass man, Violet. I own my own business. I run my own life. I’m not used to anyone having a say in what I do or how I do it. I brought you along for your opinion. I certainly don’t want or need someone picking out my clothes, much less paying for them. Would you have done that for your ex? Treated him like your Pygmalion project? Clean him up so he’s suitable to go out in public?”
“Of course not,” Violet argued.