Dresses. Blouses. Skirts.Pants.
Shirts. Cardigans. Jeans.Slacks.
I began to sell hundreds online. And when my small US manufacturer could barely keep up with the demand, I called Daddy for help. His expertise in real estate, along with his international connections, is what helped me snag the building that housesHaute Coutureheadquarters: complete with the café and HC Boutique on the first level, the offices on the second, and a massive third floor wing, where all the clothing is sewn. The building, along with the custom storefront signage, didn’t come at a cheap price. Nothing good ever does. There’s always aprice.
Money. Sweat.Tears.
That’s what I spent buildingHaute Coutureinto what it istoday.
Has it paidoff?
Heck yeah. But now I wantmore.
I wantHaute CoutureMagazine.
“Same time tomorrow morning, ma’am?” Jack’s tone is serious. Less jovial.Subdued.
“Please, Jack, if you and I will be spending time together on the roads of Paris, call me Lauren.” I open the door to the town car to let myself out, the cool rain dancing on my bare legs. “Thanks for the safe ride home. See you tomorrow. Sametime.”
He lifts his hand to his temple, giving a two finger salute inacknowledgment.
Then I close the car door and make a beeline for the double doors, praying as each heel splashes against the pavement, I don’t have another ass-baringfall.
“Bonjour, LB, you’re home early,” says Jules with his bright face, as I barrel through the doubledoors.
“Yes I am for once.” I smile. “How was Truffles today; he give you anygrief?”
Jules’s usual smile quirks up one side of his mouth as he rocks back and forth on his heels. “You know Truffles adores me; everything went well. Managed to take him for a stroll right before the rain fell. The little pooch is a quite the lady magnet. I’ve got a date now, thanks tohim.”
I chuckle. “A date? Well, isn’t that sweet. Where andwhen?”
He squares his shoulders to straighten his posture.“Tonight. And we’ll just meet for some coffee. You know theroutine.”
I beam a smile at him and pat his shoulder before saying, “That’s wonderful, Jules. I can’t wait to hear all about it tomorrow. But for now, I’m headed up to get buried in these.” I hold up thefolders.
“How did the meetinggo?”
“Good. But they need me to fulfill one thing before we move forward. And that’s what I’ll be trying to come up withtonight.”
“Bonne chance,” he says as I walk to the elevator. “Have a good night,” he adds in thedistance.
After I press the button outside of the elevator, the sound of thedingcomes right away and the door slides open. And when I step in and press button eleven, I lean back against the elevator wall, waiting for the door to close, my eyes closed, taking a deep breath in then out. This evening would be the perfect night to cuddle by a fire, with a glass of wine—I drink only on special occasions andLa Boutique’salmost yes, is still a cause forcelebration.
The door is just about to close when I hear, “Hold the elevator,please.”
A male voice. Sexy.British.
Stopping the door from closing, a suit covered arm reaches in, andthen…
My heart literally stops.God, is he gorgeous.And he’s wearing one ofmysuits. Last year’s collection, and he wears it quitewell.
He flashes a smile that makes me feel like I can combust, melt into a puddle of bliss on the floor of thiselevator.
One perfect eyebrow lifts and he practically sings the words, “Hello there, I’m Simon. I just moved in here a couple of weeksago.”
He must be the new guy who moved in. The oneallthe ladies in the building are swooning over. Mind you, most of the ladies in this building are senior citizens. But still. They sure are right about him. He’s definitelyhot.
“I’m Lauren,” I mutter, after releasing the breath I didn’t even realize I washolding.
“Blake, right?” he asks, still flashing that combustible smile. “Lauren Blake ofHaute Couture,” he confirms, tugging at the sleeve of his suit jacket, “I’d recognize you and your lovely clothesanywhere.”
This man, all wonderful, smellin’ of woodsy cologne, with blond hair I want to rake my fingers through, deep blue eyes, that I swear, are making me pant, standing next to me in all his sexy glory could very well be…therealman of mydreams.
