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“By the way,” she continues, “Helen and I were thinking of a weekend-long escape and drive out to L.A. What do you say? Maybe your aunt can watch the kids?”
A year ago, I would have said yes in a minute. Helen is our other best friend, and the three of us frequently went on impromptu weekend trips. Now, however, things are different. I’m lucky Isabelle and I work together so at least I see her on a regular basis. I haven’t seen Helen in a long while.
“Nah, I have plans with the kids. Maybe another time.”
"Okay. How is Christopher Bennett's project coming along?"
"He's very cooperative," I say instantly. "I wasn’t expecting him to want to be so involved. I'm meeting him this afternoon after Ms. Parson's."
"How is he as a person?" Isabelle presses. "There's so much about the company in the press but rarely about the family itself."
"He's… not what I expected." I hesitate for a split second whether to tell her more, but the truth is, I need to talk to someone, and Isabelle is my best friend. "He came to the office to look through catalogs, and then Lucas cornered him about soccer, and now he's coming to my house on Saturday to give him some pointers."
Isabelle leans back, surveying me. "Do you like him?"
"He's a hard man not to like," I admit with a sigh. "He's nice to the kids, has a body to die for, is the funniest man I've met, and really knows how to lay on the charm."
"Whoa, girl. You haven't gushed over a man in… since forever, actually." Sitting up straight again, she drums her fingers on the table, and I know the warning is on her lips.
"I know he's a client," I say quickly. "And I've learned my lesson. Mixing business with pleasure brings a lot of headache."
"Amen to that." Over the years, we both were burned by this. To our defense, working sixty-hour weeks leaves little room for personal lives. Isabelle went out with a colleague back at the company we both worked at, FortyStarsDesigns. After they had broken up, the atmosphere in the office was unbearable. Also while at FortyStarsDesigns, I fell for a client. After I had slept with him, he tossed me away like I was a broken toy. One of the next clients came because of his recommendation, and during our initial meeting, he asked me if my sexual services were included in the price. I felt so dirty that not even a long shower in which I vigorously scrubbed myself helped.
So when Isabelle and I started our business, we made it a rule that we won’t date any clients. In truth, I don’t plan to date at all for now. Every action, including whom I choose to date, will impact the kids. I won't deny I'd love to be held and cuddled once in a while. I love cuddles. They make me feel loved and safe, and I haven't felt safe since I buried my parents. I can't explain it, but sometimes I feel like I'd been wrapped in a blanket all my life. Now suddenly the blanket's gone, and I'm permanently cold. But a girl can’t have it all, I suppose.
"So you're sure you won't fall for his charms?" Isabelle presses.
"Yep. He's the most shameless flirt I've encountered, but I
can go toe-to-toe with him. I can't afford to make any mistakes."
***
Later that afternoon, with half an hour to spare until my meeting with Christopher, I do a little window-shopping, right until I spot a familiar and gorgeous red sweater that Sienna was looking at online last week. Taking out my phone, I snap a picture and send it to my sister. She calls me within two seconds.
“Is that the sweater I was hoping to find on sale online?” she asks in one breath.
“You tell me, but I think it is. The price tag isn’t in the pic, but it’s on sale. Do you want me to buy it?”
“Are you serious? Oh my God, yes.” She lets out a squeal so loud, I’m afraid my ear will ring for the next few hours. My sister is an unusual seventeen-year-old. She is rarely moody, never rebellious, and generally seems like an old soul. Mother used to say Sienna missed the 101 course on how to be a teenager. But the one thing that absolutely fires her up is fashion.
“You’ll have it tonight.”
“Thanks, Victoria. You’re the best.”
After ending the conversation, I walk in and buy the sweater, then hurry to my meeting with Christopher.
Armed with a million ideas for his apartment, I wait for him in front of the furniture store. One of the reasons I like to do a shopping tour with my clients is because I learn a lot about their tastes as I watch their reactions while they're in the store. Going with them through catalogs helps, but sometimes they like an item in a picture and hate it upon seeing it in real life. Christopher arrives precisely at three o'clock, flashing me a smile that seems to say he's up to no good.
"Hello, Victoria." From the way those two words tumble from his lips, and his gaze rakes over my body, it's clear he intends to follow through with his promise to be as obvious as possible, but I don't intend to call him out on it. I have the nagging suspicion that it would lead us down a rabbit hole. Though I feel my cheeks heat up, I stubbornly keep my mouth shut. I'm wearing a bright yellow dress that shows no cleavage and ends up just a notch above my knees, and I paired it with red ankle boots. My coat is the same color as my boots. Yeah, I love colors. Sometimes I overdo it, but wearing brightly colored clothing just fills me with positive energy. Overall, my appearance doesn't scream sexy in any way, but the intensity in Christopher's gaze makes me feel utterly naked.
"Nice tie," I remark, and it occurs to me that it's the first time he's wearing one in my presence. For some reason, he doesn't seem comfortable wearing it.
"I forgot I had the stupid thing on. I hate them."
"Why wear it if you hate it? You're your own boss, after all."
"Believe it or not, it helps in some meetings, especially with banks." In an instant, he removes the tie, shoving it in his pocket. "Much better." Even without the tie, he exudes power and authority—thanks to the dark gray suit he's wearing. Still, his mischievous expression betrays him, giving him a youthful charm.
