“I’ll wait for you downstairs.” He turns to leave, then turns back around to face me. “Oh and, Lo?”
“What?”
“For the love of all that is holy, don’t wear anIndustrial Novembershirt.”
I smirk at him. “Slash then?”
He shakes his head with amusement. “How about no other rock bands over your chest for our first public date?”
“What should I wear then?”
“Jeans. Be casual. We aren’t going anywhere fancy.”
I haven’t brought over too much clothing since I’ll be moving it to the penthouse anyway, so I panic as I pull out all the contents of my duffle bag on the bed.
What does a rock star’s girlfriend even wear?Don’t panic, Dolores. He said to be causal, and casual I have. I think about Sofia and what she wears. She’s usually in jeans, comfortable tops, and her leather moto jacket. Sometimes she wears dresses for Bren, but I don’t think this is a dress kind of date. But she wears a lot of black. I brought my black ribbed turtleneck. It’s chilly out, so this should do fine with my good jeans.
I didn’t bring any other shoes, so my black ankle boots will have to do. I quickly do my makeup in a simple, natural way for daytime, and remember I have my black skull ring in my purse. I retrieve it and put it on my middle finger. I look at myself in the mirror. Not bad for having so few options. I wish I had my black crossbody purse, but I don’t think my oversized boho one goes well with this, so I will go purseless. Instead, I accessorize with my Audrey Hepburn-style oversized sunglasses.
I’d say this is pretty rock star girlfriend-like. At least it is for this rock star’s fake girlfriend, and it will just have to do.
When he sees me, Karl smiles in that boyish way of his. “You look perfect, Iggy,” he says.
He takes my hand in his and leads me out to a beautiful gray sports car. I whistle. “Hot damn, that’s a nice car.” Karl only chuckles. I step around it all the way to check it out, and my mouth hangs open when I see the logos on the back:Porscheand911 Turbo S. “I don’t think I’ve ever even known what a Porsche looks like. Just hear about them all the time,” I say, in awe of the beautiful car.
“Germany’s finest for the finest German,” he says with a cocky grin.
I just roll my eyes and get in.
When we get close to Sofia’s bar, I gape at him. “La Oficina? We’re having lunch atLa Oficina?”
“What? Food is great here.”
“I know it is, but are you insane? There will for sure be paparazzi here!” Ever since news broke out about Sofia and Bren, there has been at least one photographer or reporter staking out the bar.
“That’s kinda the point,” he says and pulls up to the front of the bar.
Instantly, two photographers recognize the car and get close to it, doing their best to photograph past the tinted windows. The guy trying to get the image from the passenger door moves to the front of the car and snaps pictures from there.
It’s intrusive as all hell, and I twist my fingers in front of me.I can do this,I think as I let out a deep breath.
Karl must sense I’m nervous because he takes my hand in his and kisses the back of it. “It’ll be okay. I’m right here. If they throw questions at you, don’t answer. Stay in until I get the door for you.”
He leaves the car to walk over to my side of it, and my heart is pounding loud in my ears. Fuck. What did I get myself into?
He opens the door and offers me his hand.
“Karl! Karl! Who’s the babe?” One photographer calls out. Karl only shields me from the camera protectively, but it doesn’t matter because the other photographer is on my other side. We rush inside the bar, and they don’t follow.
“That was intense,” I say.
Karl shrugs. “You’ll get used to it.”
* * *
We graba table in the center of the restaurant, close enough to the windows to be photographed, but not close enough that it looks as intentional as it is. I’m so nervous, the smile on my face so forced, Karl has to coax me into relaxation.
And he knows how.