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“How’d you get into modeling, Cross?” she asked.
“Oh, I started a long time ago, geez, when I was in high school. My mom would drive me around to these go-sees. I hated it. Just wanted to be with my friends. But the money I made really helped my family, so I stuck with it. And years later, here I am, still doing it.”
“Do you like it?” she asked.
“You know, when I was younger, and it was all about partying and meeting girls, it was tons of fun. Opened lots of doors. But when I met Joey’s mom and fell in love, it became a job. Which wasn’t a bad thing, but I was doing it to support my family.”
I took her hand and led her to a bright green bench outside what looked to be a very expensive, restored brick building. It was so funny that what was probably once a shithole was now something worth millions of dollars.
“How’d you end up in fashion?” I asked.
Her face lit up. “Well, I’d always loved to sketch garments and figure out how to sew them. And when I was a nanny for the Benson’s, who turned out to be the family I’d never had before, Marina—the mom—saw my sketches and sewing and got me into fashion school. I got an internship with Forest, and here I am today.”
“You like it there?” I asked.
I had a feeling I knew what answer was coming, but I wanted to hear it from her.
She looked down at her hands. “Until recently, I loved it.”
“I heard a blowhard little asshole at Marlon’s party bragging about ripping you off. I wanted to say something to him, but Shane convinced me it was your battle to fight. So maybe we could all fight it together?”
“What do you mean?”
I swiveled on the bench to face her, and to be honest, get a better look at those glittery eyes of hers. “We—Rand, Marlon, Shane, and I—might be able to help you. I’ve already heard you are interested in starting a collection of your own.”
An expensively dressed couple with multiple shopping bags clicked down the alley toward their rowhouse. Kealy watched them walk by, and then looked at me.
“What do you mean? How can you help?” she asked, confusion troubling her pretty face.
“Well, that’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about today. What do you say we head to dinner, and discuss it there?” I asked, standing.
I reached for her hand to help her up and kept ahold of if after she’d risen to her feet. She looked at our clasped hands, and then at me, smiling lightly. She closed her eyes.
The perfect invitation.
I lowered my lips to hers and knew life was about to change.
