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“Hey yourself,” I growled. I know I have a slight Euro accent. I grew up in Italy, coming to the United States for college, naturally retaining that old world refinement that fashion executives cultivate.
“How can I help you?” she asked, smiling at me, those blue eyes teasing me. I forced myself to look at her face, drinking in the luscious lips, the curve of her cheek, the perfect tilt of her chin.
“I’m Rafe Connor,” I growled again. “CEO of Levast Corp., we’re the holding company for the Jason Alexander brand.”
“Oh I know who you are,” she said with a wink. “I’ve been doing some research on Levast’s financials and I read your latest shareholder letter in the Annual Report.”
I was floored. Evidently, the girl was literate, and not only that, but she’d probably looked over the financials as well, a mix of numbers and accounting that wasn’t for the faint of heart. Levast has a lot of different interests and it’s not easy to understand the intricacies of corporate finance.
The blonde was smiling again, as if knowing my thoughts. “So what can I do for you, Mr. Connor?”
Well, suck my dick for one, I thought silently. Make me come again and again until my cares are washed away, and the stress is gone. Let me pound you into submission from behind. Let me explore all your holes, and spray my come on your face and in your body until I’m a sated.
But I said nothing of that sort. The make-up assistant was still watching our interaction breathlessly, and I could see a number of hairdressers and seamstresses discreetly watching from the corner of their eyes.
“Ms. Walsh,” I said courteously. “Thank you for participating in our show. I wanted to invite you to lunch afterwards to begin salary negotiations,” I said smoothly.
“Oh Jenna!” squealed the make-up assistant excitedly. “Isn’t this what you were telling me about? Maybe a raise? Make sure to ask for smoothies at the craft table backstage, not just coffee and champagne,” she said breathlessly.
Jenna was kind about the interruption.
“Kathy, I think Mr. Connor has more serious issues on his mind, he’s running a multi-billion dollar empire,” she said. “But I’ll be sure to ask about the addition of fresh smoothies, I know it’s hard to keep your energy up on caffeine and alcohol only.”
“Awesome!” squealed the other girl. “And bagels too,” she threw in as an aside.
I almost laughed right there, this exchange was so ridiculous. But I nodded to the blonde and said, “Noon at Le Bern? My assistant will send a car.”
“Yes, thank you,” said the blonde demurely, but I could see a spark in her eyes. She flashed me one last smile before saying, “Oh I’m up. Time to get out there in this exotic parrot outfit,” she said with a wink.
And as if on cue, another wardrobe person ran up and began helping her into a contraption which looked like blue and green feathers in the shape of giant wings. It was all glittery straps with a leather harness that looked really heavy, forcing the little girl over until she was bent over double, shouldering the burden. I reached out a hand to steady the load, testing some of the weight in my hand, and frowned.
“They always put you in stuff like this?” I asked, concerned.
“Always,” she confirmed, straightening her back and pasting another smile on her face. “And in four inch stilettos too,” she said brightly. “Now I’ve got to walk … scoot!” she said.
And just like that, she was gone. I could hear thunderous applause outside, more fanatical screams of “Jenna, Jenna!” as she hit the stage. I watched from the sidelines with amazement and appreciation as her grace and beauty mesmerized the crowds. Lunch sounded amazing … and I was very, very hungry.
7
Jenna
I walked into the restaurant in sneakers, a welcome relief from high heels. Le Bern was a Michelin starred restaurant but I just couldn’t handle stalking around in stilettos and a mini-dress, not after a fashion show where I’d been wearing almost nothing. Instead, I’d gone for comfort in a wrap dress, something that showed off my curves without being overtly sexy, and had paired it with flat shoes, cute New Balances that were urban and trendy.
I threw the maitre’d a bright smile even as he looked at my outfit askance.
“Madam?” he said politely, as if hoping I would go away.
No such luck. “Reservation for Rafe Connor,” I said with a warm smile. Something I’ve realized since switching careers is that charming with honey can get a lot more done than being a straight-up bitch. Maybe it’s because of the atmosphere in fashion. Girls are expected to be docile, like furniture almost, so it was unexpected and even discouraged to have an opinion.
Normally, I would have shut that down immediately, making my views known, even forcing them onto other people. But my initial attempts to be my old self had backfired.
