Page 74 of Pretend To Be Mine

“Text me when you get home,” I said.

“I will.”

I watched her drive away and then turned back to face the celebration happening inside. The team was riding high on success. I was quickly whisked back into the makeup chair by Mary Jo, who said nothing as she fixed my hair and wiped away the lipstick that was on my neck.

“There. Go.”

“Thanks.”

I headed out to the waiting press, all while wishing I had climbed into the back of that car with Elizabeth. I’d just had her and I was already craving her body again. The more I had her, the more I wanted her.

And that could end up being a problem.

24

ELIZABETH

Ifell asleep approximately three minutes after walking in my door last night. I didn’t even bother taking off my makeup. But damn, I had slept well. The whole week had been filled with sleepless nights and long days.

But I survived my first fashion show.

My feet ached from walking in heels. And my thighs were a little sore from what came after. But it was a good ache. The kind that came with accomplishment from doing things you never thought you could do.

I stretched in bed and smiled at the ceiling like an idiot.

I had walked in a legit fashion show. Me. Elizabeth Laramie, the girl who’d been waiting tables two weeks ago.

I’d walked that runway, and people had cheered. Adrian had called me the love of his life.

The memory made my stomach flip. I touched my lips where he’d kissed me on that stage. Had he meant it? Or was it just part of the show, an improvisation to explain my unexpected appearance?

Stop overthinking, I told myself. Just enjoy this while it lasts.

I forced myself out of bed and into the shower, letting the hot water work out the knots in my muscles. The day stretched ahead of me, gloriously empty until Adrian picked me up at five for our flight to London.

A whole day to just exist. No interviews, no photoshoots, no performance required. I didn’t have to wait tables and deal with asshole customers. If I was lucky, I would never have to do that again. I just had to make sure I didn’t completely bomb the Blackwell job once I got into it. I was going to bust my ass to make sure I impressed Adrian and whoever I worked for.

I went into my kitchen and opened my cupboard. I grinned remembering the grocery order I had gotten delivered the other day. Yesterday, I had to get out of the house in a hurry and didn’t get the chance to use my new treat.

I bought myself an actual coffeemaker and a bag of good coffee. Not super high end but not instant. Within minutes, the aroma of strong coffee filled the tiny space. I grabbed the pumpkin-spice creamer and dumped in a healthy dollop. I had splurged but I told myself I had a big paycheck coming. I could afford to spoil myself just a little.

I settled at my tiny kitchen table with my sketchbook and coffee. I hadn’t finished any new pieces in weeks, too overwhelmed by everything happening to do more than sketch out ideas and play around.

But this morning, with a tiny ray of sunlight streaming through my window and the memory of last night still warming me from the inside, I found myself drawing.

Not the safe, conservative designs I’d shown Adrian before. Not the pieces I thought my mother would approve of or that would appeal to the broadest market.

These were different. Bold. Daring. The kind of designs that had been living in my head but I’d been too scared to put on paper.

A dress with an asymmetrical neckline that would make people look twice. Another with strategic cutouts that managed to be sexy without being vulgar. A third that played with volume in unexpected ways, creating drama through silhouette.

I lost myself in it, in the pure joy of creating without judgment, without pressure. Page after page filled with sketches, with notes about fabric and construction, with the raw energy of inspiration finally unleashed.

I was so absorbed I didn’t hear the knock at first. The second knock was louder, more insistent. I jumped, nearly spilling coffee across my drawings.

I looked through the peephole and felt my stomach roll with excitement.

Adrian.