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“I always do. And gel inserts and plasters for blisters.” Paige walked toward the door, thinking about all the work they still had to do. “Do you have everything you need, Frankie?”
“Yes. I have a meeting with the lighting company later and I need to call Buds and Blooms. I’m working on the color palette and tomorrow I’ll check out the flower market. Hello, early start. Still, at least I won’t be partying late into the night like you.”
“I’m not partying. I’m working. I’ll probably be there for less than an hour, and then I’ll be back home in my pajamas.”
“Or you might be in Jake’s bed, naked.” Eva waggled her eyebrows suggestively and Frankie rolled her eyes.
“He’s a client. You can’t have sex with a client. Company rules.”
“We own the company. We make the rules. If we want to eat cupcakes for breakfast, we can. If we want to drink champagne in business meetings, we can do that, too.”
“Except then we’d be fat and broke.” Frankie opened the door. “Paige sets the company rules. And the dress code, while flexible, does not including wearing your underwear around your ankles.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Confidence is like makeup. It changes your appearance and no one needs to know what’s underneath.
—Paige
JAKE CHANGED INTO his tux in the back of the car on his way from the airport without interrupting his phone conversation.
“You need to look at the flow and think about the end user.” He buttoned the shirt and looped the bow tie around his neck, intending to tie it at the last minute. He hated ties so much he only owned two. This one, and a Tom Ford bought for him by a date who had wanted to gentrify him.
The roads were gridlocked, which meant that by the time his driver pulled up outside the building he was already late.
He strode into the foyer, past security and saw Paige pacing by the bank of elevators, her thin, spiky heels tapping a rhythm on the polished marble floor. Dressed in a simple black evening dress, she looked classy, stylish and efficient. Ready to work.
And then he took a closer look at the shoes.
They were the same hot red as her lipstick and those heels were as high as a Manhattan skyscraper.
Shit.
She looked sexy.
One of the security guards was clearly thinking the same thing and Jake stepped in front of him, blocking his view and ruining his fun. He briefly considered ruining other things for the guy, too. Like his ability to walk in a straight line and keep his teeth to old age.
“Paige?”
She turned. “You’re here!” The warmth and spontaneity of her greeting knocked him off balance. He rarely saw her unguarded and by lowering her own defenses, she sneaked under his. For a moment he couldn’t remember why he was holding back. The car was just outside. He could power her into the backseat, strip her naked of everything except those hot red shoes and taste every inch of her.
Why not?
And then she smiled at him, that lovely open friendly smile that was all Paige.
And he remembered why not.
A fling with Paige would never be simple.
No matter how hot, intense and satisfying it might be at the time, ultimately it would end, as all his flings did. He’d learned at an early age that love was fleeting and unpredictable. It was something that could be taken away as easily as it was given. His preferred way of dealing with that was to keep himself emotionally detached. Which was one reason why Paige would always be off-limits.
She was a risk he wasn’t prepared to take.
And then there was the promise he’d made to her brother...
“I’m late. Bad traffic.” He cooled his tone. “I apologize.”
“For the traffic? Even you can’t control that, I imagine. And it doesn’t matter.” Her smile dimmed a little. “You’re the client. You’re allowed to be late. Are you ready?”
