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She’d thought she’d managed it, once she left school and moved to London. Thought she was her own person for once. Except it was so easy to fall in with people who she realised, too late, only wanted her for her title. Women who had closets of spare outfits to dress her up in, dresses and skirts that cost a fortune but barely had the structural integrity to survive a night of dancing and drinking at whatever club they used her name to get into.
They definitely weren’t the sort of clothes Dominic wanted her wearing on this job.
Later, living abroad, alone and with only her seasonal tour earnings to keep her, clothing hadn’t been a priority. She’d been her own person for the first time ever, and she hadn’t had to dress a certain way to prove it. The sense of freedom, of relief, was enough. So she had uniforms for work and a small, flexible, casual wardrobe for the rest of the time.
Dominic had been right about one thing—not that she’d admit it to him—this new job required new clothes.
But she’d be damned if she was spending the next week and a half in one plain, boring suit.
She didn’t have long, so she worked a strike attack formula, identifying the three closest mid-range high street stores most likely to stock the sort of thing she needed. In the first, she picked up two skirts—one grey, one black—and a couple of bright cardigans. In the next, a jacket, three blouses and a lightweight scarf. The last shop took the largest chunk of her money, but in return provided her with a pair of low heels that looked professional, but that she could walk miles in. When she mixed in the plain T-shirts, underwear, bag, dress, make-up and jewellery she’d brought with her from Rome, she thought she was pretty much prepared for anything Lord Dominic Beresford could throw at her that week.
Stepping out of the last shop, laden with bags, she checked her watch. Five minutes left. Just enough time to change.
It was strangely gratifying to walk into the coffee shop and realise that Dominic hadn’t even recognised her. He glanced up when she walked in, but his gaze flicked quickly away from her and back to the clock on the wall. He expected her to be late.
Dumping her bags on an empty chair, she dropped into the seat opposite him and grinned as his eyes widened. This time, he studied her carefully, taking in the jacket and blouse—worn over her white T-shirt to ensure maximum modesty in the cleavage department—and the way she’d pinned her hair back from her face.
She gave him a minute to appreciate the transformation, then said, ‘This works for you?’
Dominic nodded.
‘Great.’ Grabbing his coffee from in front of him, she drained the last inch of caffeine. ‘Then let’s go meet your clients.’
* * *
He had to stop looking at her. What kind of a professional impression did it make if he couldn’t stop staring at his employee? It was just...a transformation. Faith looked respectable, efficient, and yet still utterly herself. And he still didn’t quite understand how she’d managed to make his money stretch to the bags and bags of shopping he’d had to send back to the hotel before they headed to arrivals.
Now, while his driver loaded up their suitcases and Faith’s shopping at the hotel, they were waiting in the arrivals hall for the next flight in from JFK. He could have sent a driver to meet them, Dominic supposed, but Kat had always hammered home the importance of the personal touch. And since she wasn’t here to be personal any longer, that just left him. And Faith.
His gaze slid left again, taking in the way she gripped her fingers tightly in her other hand. Was she nervous? Did Faith really get nervous? It seemed unlikely.
‘They’re a nice bunch,’ he said awkwardly, in an attempt to set her mind at ease.
‘I’m sure.’
‘They’ll like you.’
She rolled her eyes at him. ‘Of course they will. Being likeable is part of my job description.’
‘Really?’ Dominic glanced at her again. ‘You don’t seem to be trying that hard with me.’
Faith flapped a hand at him. ‘Don’t lie, you adore me. Besides, you matter less.’
‘I am the boss,’ he reminded her. Just in case she’d forgotten. He was starting to wonder...
‘Yeah. So you’ll be taking care of them in meetings and things, right? I’ll be with them the rest of the time. When they’re having fun. So it’s important they think I’m a fun person to be around. You’ll probably be back in the office by then anyway, so what do you care?’
It should set his mind at ease, Dominic thought, knowing that she wasn’t expecting him to be around all the time, holding her hand through this job. She obviously believed she was capable enough to get on with it alone. And, against the odds, he was starting to believe that too.
