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“Why did you choose those salons?” Diana pushes.
I throw a quick glance at Ryan. He seems more interested in catching the chef’s attention for more wine so I take that as green light.
We’d agreed on the way here, no reaction or lack of eye-contact meant I was safe to answer in any way I liked. A non-commital gesture while looking at me, meant I should under no circumstances, answer truthfully.
“It wasn’t my choice. We thought it’d be better if I started with a curated client base. I didn’t want to build one from scratch, since I don’t know the Seattle market. But I left the choice of salons to Ryan.”
“That makes a lot of sense,” Richard smiles. An older version of Ryan, Richard has a distinguished look, his hair is thick but almost fully gray, his deep-set blue eyes cool and assessing. He’s not overpowering but possesses the air of a man used to calling the shots.
Diana nods in agreement, “Very ballsy move but yeah, I agree with you, DILF,”
I almost spit my wine out, but I manage to catch myself in time. I don’t dare look anywhere but my plate. Ryan warned me but hearing his mom say it sounds so much dirtier.
Gina leans toward me and whispers. “I wish I could tell you you’d get used to it, but no, you won’t.”
Somehow that makes me want to snicker even more, but I hold it in.
“…would you say you are Stella?”
Shit. I have no clue what Richard asked me.
Ryan puts a hand on my thigh. “Oh, I think Stella is big on taking risks, aren’t you baby? Which is why I thought those two businesses were perfect for her.”
Richard considers this, a twinkle appearing in his eyes. “Incredible.” He muses. “You’ll fit right in.”
Somehow, I sense this is high praise from my father-in-law.
Diana adds, chuckling, “Maybe you’ll even turn some of the sharks into guppies.”
“Is there something special about those salons?” I venture, peering around the table.
“You could say that,” Diana replies. Her voice is tinged with a mix of amusement and pride. “They’re the most sought-after in the whole city. The very establishments Leanne has been lobbying Reuben to buy for her. But he keeps refusing.”
Leanne Fairchild is Reuben’s wife. Don’s mother. I look at Ryan, who just shrugs.
“Why has he refused?” I ask Diana.
“Because Reuben for all his faults has compassion for the women of Seattle. If Leanne took over, she’d ruin the salons. Then where would the high-society ladies go?”
Ryan leaves his food and puts his arm around my shoulder. “I thought Stella could show the Seattle folk how we New Yorkers do business. It’s only been a few weeks, but Stella is already doing amazingly well.”
I shoot Ryan a nervous look. First of all, I’m just a stylist from Brooklyn. I don’t jump into rings with sophisticated, wealthy women and compete with them for what they want.
Ryan continues, “A couple of years ago, Stella arranged a makeover for five homeless men. Two ended up with modeling contracts.”
“Wow, that’s incredible!” Gina gushes.
I turn to Ryan, beyond shocked. “You… knew about that!” That was way before we met.
“Didn’t you know I was one of your ten thousand followers?”
I don’t even know how to respond to that.
He bends to whisper in my ear, “I’ve been watching you for a long time Stella. You’re fucking incredible.”
A warm sensation envelopes me and my cheeks flush. That would have to go down as the hottest thing anyone has said to me. And that he chose to do it while we have company only makes me hornier. If he’d said that while we were alone, I might have jumped him.
Like a switch was flipped inside me, the pent-up tension of the last few weeks slowly starts to uncoil. I become hyper-aware of his fingers drawing lazy circles over the skin exposed by my off-shoulder cashmere top. I bite my lip and suppress a shiver. As of right now I’m no longer acting; I just can’t tell if he still is.
