Page 57 of Pink

Kayla shrugged. “Guess so.”

“What, is he expecting to talk about the campaign or—”

“From what I know, he’s having a business meeting. You’re just going to be there with him for it.”

Oh, really?

Perfect.

Just like arm candy.

• • •

Plastering a smile on her face because of habit and nothing more, Gigi had a harder time keeping her composure under control as she was directed to the table in a semi-private section of the restaurant that she hadn’t even bothered to catch the name of on the way in. She was only doing this lunch date with the Revver’s team owner because she didn’t have enough time to rip Marla a new asshole about it and get it canceled.

She would, though.

“Here we are,” the girl who had greeted her at the entrance said. “Mr. Todrey and … guest. Miss Gigi Rey. I will be right back with a menu for you.”

Gigi gave a little laugh, not even bothering to greet the men who had stood from the table yet. “Don’t bother. I don’t eat in front of others.”

It was a lie. Not the first time she told it, either.

It also wasn’t uncommon in her business for models to use that exact excuse to get out of eating a meal they knew would fuck up their diet or otherwise. So, if any of these people had any familiarity with her line of work, it wouldn’t be an unusual statement. She just didn’t care to eat with these men when she hadn’t agreed to lunch in the first place.

“Sure,” the woman replied. “A drink, then?”

“Yeah, why not? Whatever’s on the top shelf for wine today—bring the bottle. On the tab, of course. I’m not paying for this lunch, right?”

That time, she did look to the men at the table. Only one she recognized, the black-haired man in his early forties standing on the left. The shorter of the two with brown eyes that locked on hers and didn’t let go. He smiled—charming and warm—with a nod.

“Of course, you’re not paying. Top-shelf wine, please.”

“Cabernet, if possible,” Gigi added with a wave of her fingers.

“Right away.”

Just like that, the woman left.

Gigi hadn’t bothered to ask her name, and she didn’t regret the choice, either. Too many people passed through her life daily to be on a first-name basis with them. She was willing to do the same for the other man waiting at the table beside Jensen, if only because he was just here for a business meeting as Kayla had explained, but the baseball team owner had different plans about their introduction.

“Marco, this is—”

“Gigi Rey,” the taller, younger, blond man said. He had to be mid-thirties. By all standards, handsome. But so was his counterpart, and the wealthy usually did carry an aura about of some unobtainable standard. Whether it was beauty or success or otherwise, those around them tended to sense it. Gigi was no exception and this man radiated it. “I know exactly who she is, Jensen.”

“Yes, well—”

“Do you know what she brings with her? Attention. Media. Publicity. I don’t think she can even walk down the fucking street without someone recognizing her face today. How fast do you think it would take before paps were chasing her down the block, Jensen?”

“I wanted to show you what I was capable of, and here she is. We should sit down and continue to discuss our possible arrangement, don’t you think?” Jensen asked.

The two men shared a look. The man named Marco, however, was clearly more agitated than Jensen Todrey in that moment. Evident by the clenching of his fists at his sides and the vein starting to pop out in his forehead.

Well …

It looked like Gigi wasn’t the only one displeased about this lunch.

Good.