“Can you come out with me Friday? There’s a dinner I need to attend. It’ll likely be full of stuffy, boring people trying to show off who is richer. But I need to show my face,” he says finally, his eyes dropping to my bright pink feet as the corners of his mouth curl up.
“Sure. First public act. Wouldn’t miss it.”
He looks back to my face, the corners of his eyes creasing slightly behind his glasses.
“Good.” He nods. “Glad to hear it.”
I turn and head off to my room.
I don’t do things by half. He said he needed a convincing fake girlfriend and I intend to be exactly that; stuffy, boring dinners or not. Frankly, it beats chasing down leery married men any day. And I can live with Reed. Minus the man-whoring, he’s got the potential to be a great roomie. He’s tidy and quiet. The apartment is immaculate and smells of his unique cologne, and so far, all I’ve seen him do is read.
With those glasses on.
This is going to be the easiest four thousand dollars a month ever.
Chapter four
Harley
“DoIlooklikea convincing future mayor’s girlfriend?” I ask as I walk into the living area and perform a twirl.
Reed’s eyes lift from the phone in his hand to the figure-hugging silk of my pink dress as I complete my three-sixty. Thank goodness for Maria lending it to me. She gets loads of free dresses since Vogue featured her as businesswoman of New York in their latest annual awards. Really, I’m doing the up-and-coming designer a favor by wearing the stunning gown, even if I am loving every second of feeling like a film star in it.
I grin as the fabric slides over my skin.
“Well?” I look up at Reed.
He shoves his phone into his pocket without looking back at it; his eyes firmly glued to the high split that’s allowing a peek of my thigh to be on show.
“Too much for the stuffy bores you mentioned?” I shimmy a little, testing out how much leg will be exposed when I dance. I mean, it’s a little bit of skin, but not too much. I think it’s perfectly acceptable. The neckline is high and elegant, so it works. Tits or leg, Suze always says. Not both.
“No… not too much. You look beautiful.” Reed finally lifts his eyes from my thigh to meet mine, and I clasp my hands in front of my face and walk closer to him.
“I’m sorry, I’m so rude. I’m going on about my dress, and here you are looking…” I take in his black dinner jacket, bowtie, and crisp, white shirt. Standing this close, his cologne reaches me in waves. Each note of its unique scent dances around me like tiny whispers of dreams in the air.
He looks like a fantasy. A sex one.
“… Looking very, very… capable,” I finish.
Damn, this must be how he manages his man-whoring so easily. He doesn’t even need to open his mouth. If it isn’t the scent of him, then it’s the deep earthy strands of his hair or his gray smoky quartz eyes that light up when he talks. And if you survive all that, then it’s the broad chest and strong arms that fill out a dinner suit like it was custom made for him that will take you down.
My brows pinch together as I study him. I’m no expert on designer suits, but I’m also sure in all the years I’ve worked at The Songbird, and all the high-profile guests I’ve seen, I have never seen anyone look like Reed looks in a dinner suit before. If the mayoral campaign could be cast on sex appeal alone, then he would win, hands down.
“Capable?” One of his thick, dark brows lifts.
“Yes.” I nod at him, a smile growing on my face. “Totally capable of spending an evening outshining stuffy people when you tell them all about your amazing policies and plans for the city.”
I reach up and straighten his bowtie, my fingers brushing his freshly shaven jaw by accident. His eyes widen, and I pull my hand back.
“Sorry, force of habit. I’ve helped my brother when he’s worn them in the past.”
Reed clears his throat and looks away as he picks up the key card for the apartment. “It’s fine. Are you ready to go?”
The dinner is being held in one of Manhattan’s grand hotels. After we’ve eaten, I head to the ladies’ room and tap out a message to Maria to inform her she can tell Griffin their food is not a scratch on The Songbird’s.
I slide my phone back into my purse and pull out my nude lipstick to re-apply. As far as stuffy evenings go, this one hasn’t been half bad. Reed and I are sitting at a table with a few other couples. One guy is an attorney. Reed spent a lot of time talking to him about things I tuned out of once I realized the woman, called Natalia, next to me had a dog. I saw a picture of the cute bundle of white fluff on her phone and that turned into a full-blown conversation about how she founded her own dog walking business for city workers. She’s had to take on more staff as demand has grown. She said they even have other animals on their books now, including a house goat. That led to us leaning over our phones, laughing wildly at funny animal videos. I caught the amused look on Reed’s face before I excused myself to come and freshen up.
I shake my hair out and have one more glance in the mirror before heading back out to the main ballroom. I spot Reed immediately, despite the place being crowded. He’s hard to miss, being one of the tallest men here. He’s standing by the bar talking to a guy I recognize from a show I’ve watched before work. I figured I should do some research if I’m going to nail this fake political girlfriend thing. Some of it seems quite interesting and I bet I would do way better on a pop quiz now from my extended knowledge of current affairs.