Page 106 of Pink

Wanted more.

She would much rather spend an evening with him, if possible. It was something she was still trying to work out.

“Isn’t it required—”

“Optional on Gigi’s contract to attend afterparties related to events,” Kayla quickly spoke up.

Gigi shot her a thankful smile. “Exactly.”

Ding.

The familiar text notification sound for Gigi’s phone sent her scrambling off the pedestal to race for the device on the leather sectional a few feet away. Right on top of the silk robe that she quickly shrugged on while activating her phone’s home screen and bringing up the most recent text. All the while, Kayla finished the conversation so that she didn’t have to.

A missed text from her mother was second on the list, but Gigi would get back to that later. It was the text ribbon at the very top that had her smiling.

From Lev.

Hey, it read, can you come to the front desk? They won’t let me up.

Gigi typed back: You’re here?

In less than five seconds, his reply came in. I did ask where you were, right?

Yes, he had.

But she didn’t think he wanted to know where she was in Manhattan because he planned to just show up. Especially when she had told him she was doing something for work and as far as she knew, he was supposed to be handling business with his boss. Or, that’s all he told her with no added detail. Not that it mattered; she wasn’t mad about him showing up without warning.

He was here. That had her heart sky-high. Lately, it seemed like there was only one thing that could make Gigi feel genuine happiness amidst the craziness of her life.

Lev.

• • •

“Miss Gigi, could I steal you for a picture if you have a minute? We would love to put you on the company’s feed to—”

Gigi gave the girl—probably an intern for Delavange, the lingerie company and designer she was getting her final fittings for—an apologetic smile as she passed by her desk that led out into the common area of the building. “Sorry, social media blackout. Even on someone else’s.”

It was a lie.

She just wasn’t getting on socials or putting herself on someone else’s feed. No one had told her—yet—that she was to stay off the web until told otherwise. She expected another issue like the one from last week and it would happen, though.

“Maybe next time, then,” the girl called after her.

Over her shoulder, Gigi smiled. “Maybe! Love ya, kid.”

It was her thing.

Her line.

And it felt false.

Why?

She didn’t know.

Rounding the corner that opened to the main receptionist’s desk and the entrance of the Delavange offices, Gigi only saw one man despite the usual, busy movement of many people going about their day and work. Lev, that was.

Turned sideways where he leaned against the receptionist’s desk, he wasn’t looking her way but toward the front doors. Gigi was only staring at him and the way he filled out the leather jacket and dark-wash jeans. Fantastically, by the way. He filled them out fantastically. Right down to the black runners on his feet, one of which he tapped to the floor like he was bored.