Anya puts a potato chip in her mouth with a loud crunch. “You’re being weird.”
“I’m not being weird! I’m just totally embarrassed that I crashed and burned in front of everyone earlier.”
“It wasn’t that bad.” Anya smiles sympathetically at my skeptical look. “Really, it wasn’t. And at least the client was nice about it. I haven’t seen him be that nice in ages.”
I focus on my computer screen, my fingers hitting the keyboard with way more force than necessary.
She stuffs another potato chip in her mouth. “You know, it’s funny that he should show up right after we were talking about having a fling.”
My hands freeze, hovering over the keyboard. “What do you mean?”
“Well, he’s exactly the kind of guy that’s perfect for a casual thing. You have to pick someone who won’t expect any messy romance or complications. Someone sophisticated.”
I let out an exasperated breath. “I think he might be a little out of my league, Anya.”
She snorts. “Well, yeah but that might be exactly why it works. He’s so used to being harassed by the media when he dates actresses and Instagram models, that he might actually enjoy the chance to have a fling with someone under the radar.”
It’s a real struggle to keep my face still. Anya has no idea just how close to the truth she is. Clearly Andrew, hah, was out trolling for some casual sex with someone who wouldn’t recognize him the night we hooked up.
My heart sinks a little at the thought. Even though I sneaked out that night, I regretted it after that. We had a lot of fun just talking even before we left the bar. He’d seemed like a nice guy and I don’t meet too many of those anymore.
Now I don’t even have a good memory associated with the last time I got laid, just the bitter knowledge that Mr. Lavin was clearly slumming it when he was with me.
“Did I offend you just now? I didn’t mean anything when I said he was out of your league. He’s out of everyone’s league. Men like that are orbiting in their own galaxy. Okay, I’m shutting up now.”
I laugh. “I’m not offended. But I don’t have time for flings, casual or otherwise. This is the best job I’ve ever had and I’m trying not to screw it up. I don’t have time for gossip.”
Anya doesn’t look convinced. “If you’re going to be working with the marketing team on this, you need to make time for gossip. You need to know everything there is to know about Mr. Lavin.”
Unfortunately she’s right. The little bit of reading I managed to do last night before I fell asleep wasn’t nearly enough. But I read enough to know this account is a big deal.
Andre Lavin is a big deal.
He’s also a client.
Now I just need to convince my brain to think of him that way instead of as the best sex I’ll never get to have again.
Even though I try to play it cool, I’m off my game for the rest of the day. Anya’s advice is running through my head as I transfer calls and then spend some time with Mya going over the new Lavin campaign.
Ironically, the stuff she shows me is centered around Mr. Lavin’s Instagram account. I’ve never been a big social media person so scrolling through his feed is both fascinating and humiliating all at once. I have to stop when I get to pictures of him on a yacht with a famous Hollywood actress.
Our lives couldn’t be any further apart. Maybe this is the reminder I need. By the time I get home, I feel like I’ve just worked the longest day ever.
“Finally! You’re home. Get in here.”
I squeak as the door handle is snatched from my hand. Ariana grabs my arm and yanks me inside the apartment.
“What is going on?”
Ariana crosses her arms. “Mya just told me about this party tomorrow night. So I took the liberty of checking out your closet. Which is kind of boring by the way. Who doesn’t have a porn stash or even a vibrator buried in the back?”
I drop my bag on the floor. “Sorry to disappoint you. I’ll make sure to get something scandalous to amuse you the next time you’re snooping.”
My point is clearly lost on Ari who just claps her hands. “Do that. But anyway, my point is that you’re going to this party, which Mya says is a big deal, but I don’t see any party clothes in your closet.”
“I have a black dress.”
Ari grabs something from the couch. “Not this black dress, I hope?”