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I planned to go over their briefs and the recordings. Research the designers work again, and send a message to Professor Elan for further ideas. If it wasn’t too late, I’d go over what I need for the studio in the house. I closed my bag and tensed. Hayden, I forgot.
“Monsieur Madsen asked me to stop at his office for measurements. I can get us a ride to the fabric shop if that’s okay with you. Or will it be too late?”
Wyatt checked his watch. “Pas de souci. No problem.”
I sent a text to Laurence to pick us up. Wyatt showed me into Hayden’s showroom. He was on a call, but squinted at us, and waved his hand for us to wait for him to end. After another five minutes, he did.
“Bonjour, Nadia. Wyatt?” He spoke to him rapidly in French, and I heard Wyatt explain we were leaving together tonight. Hayden went over to his workstation and opened a drawer, collecting a tape measure. “We have bodysuits. Wyatt will get it for you.”
Wyatt collected the garment and handed it to me. Then I left and changed in the bathroom. After a few minutes, I returned to the studio.
Hayden’s eyes roamed freely over every inch of my body in the spandex. I ran my hands down my arms and my cheeks warmed. He gestured for me to stand in front of a floor-length mirror. “Wyatt, since you are here, you can take down the measurements.”
He approached and started behind me, pressing the tape against my shoulders.
I went rigid.
He let out a huff. “Turn.”
I faced him and shifted on my feet.
His brows pulled together. “Are you nervous?”
“Uhm…no…maybe a little,” I murmured.
“You can be nervous, but I’m professional. So, stop being odd, d’accord?” His tone was clipped.
I glanced at Wyatt, and he winked at me. And I steadied my body and breath.
Hayden took the tape and measured the length of my back, arms, legs, and shoulders. Up close, I could see he had the handsome face of a model, nicely shaped brows, sculpted cheekbones, and a square jaw. We were also close enough that I could smell his cologne and the faint scent of a flowery bouquet that must have been from the woman I saw him kissing. The memory surfaced of his hands moving between her thighs. He slowed his hands as he carefully moved the measuring tape over my breasts, his hand near my nipple. It hardened. I tensed and turned my head, willing him to move on and he did. But Hayden didn’t react at all. His measurement tape moved to my hips and continued to call the numbers to Wyatt without a pause. He finished up with my legs and rubbed his square jaw. “Hmmm. Bien. Merci, Nadia. Wyatt.”
“Merci,” I echoed. I picked up my bag, but they both frowned.
Wyatt wrinkled his nose. “You can’t wear that out in public.”
Hayden’s expression was equally incredulous.
I was going to put my blazer over it. Still, I changed back into my clothes. They were speaking French when I walked up.
“Merci, Nadia. I’m leaving. Goodnight,” Hayden told us and picked up a helmet.
We walked with him to the front of the building and once outside, we saw the brunette from the street leaning against a Vespa out front. Hayden headed over, and she immediately went into his arms for a kiss.
“Hayden is up to his usual.” Wyatt’s tone held amusement.
“She’s pretty. Maybe they’re in love.”
Wyatt scoffed. “In love? Not at all. I was talking about you.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“He took your measurements.”
I lifted my shoulders. “I took plenty of measurements in college. Hayden told me he takes his personally.”
Wyatt grinned broadly. “Non, Josephine took our measurements. Hayden doing it after work. I don’t think he expected me to be there.”
I lowered my brows. “But he has a woman waiting on the street.”
