“Do you?” She leaned in, voice dropping. “He’s been linked to models, actresses, socialites. But never the same woman twice.”
But he’d been with me twice now. That had to mean something.
How in the world did this become my life?
“What happened with Theo’s mom?” I asked quietly. “Please tell me. I haven’t found the right time to bring it up with Griffin.”
Sophie sighed. “I only met her once. She was a model. Young, beautiful, and terrified of motherhood. When Theo was born, she got depressed and left within the first year. Griffin fought for full custody and won. But I think it broke something in him. Ever since, it’s been women for show, women for escape. Nothing that could last.”
Was that all I was to him? Another temporary distraction?
“Thank you for telling me. I just needed to know what makes him tick. Sometimes I feel worlds away from him. Here I am in this city, far from everything I’ve known. Tonight he’s taking me to a cocktail party, and I have no idea what to wear. I came out shopping to find a dress?—”
“The press follows him constantly. Are you ready for that?” Sophie eyed me cautiously.
“I don’t have a choice.” I laughed, but it came out shaky. “And tonight’s just the beginning—there are several events ahead that he mentioned taking me to. Dinners, galas, the big West Games Benefit. I want to show up on his arm looking like I belong here, and I can’t even find a single dress that doesn’t make me feel like a fraud.”
Sophie’s eyes lit up. “Oh my God. Luckily for you, I know exactly what you need. One of my new clients just launched her first collection—Laurel Lane. She’s a genius designer, but she’s brand new. She needs exposure; you need a wardrobe. You could be photographed in her designs. It’s perfect. I’ll text her right now and see if she can style you—if you wouldn’t mind dropping her name here and there.”
“Sophie, I can’t afford to make a mistake. Are you sure Laurel will take me on? I’m not exactly a twiggy model figure here.”
She pulled out her phone, already texting. “Trust me. She’ll do it. She’ll make you look absolutely stunning.”
Twenty minutes later, we were standing in a bright, airy boutique in SoHo.
Laurel Lane greeted us, a woman in her forties with kind eyes and an artist’s intensity—and a curvy girl herself. She understood my body better than I did.
“You have a gorgeous figure,” Laurel said, circling and assessing me thoughtfully. “We’re going to dress you like the queen you are.”
Within minutes, she had me standing on a platform while her team swarmed with measuring tapes and fabric swatches, and holding a few almost finished gowns against me.
They listened to my ideas too, and for the first time all day, someone saw me.
By the time we were finished, I held a garment bag with a few dresses for now to take home, and had been measured for a dozen other outfits. I felt like a movie star.
When I tried to pay, Laurel waved me off. “Just promise me you’ll tell people who dressed you when you smile for the cameras at each event.”
I questioned her. Sophie jumped in. “Jessa, this is how Griffin’s world works. You show up wearing Laurel Lane, you mention her name to the press, and everyone wins.”
“Okay. I promise. And thank you.”
As we loaded everything into the car, Sophie squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry, you’ll look amazing tonight.”
I hugged her tight. “You’re the best, Sophie.”
“That’s what friends are for.” She grinned, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. “Now let’s head to his place and get you ready. I want you to rock Griffin’s world tonight.”
The car door shut. I traced the edge of the garment bag, heart steadying. Tonight, I wasn’t only dressing for Griffin—I was stepping into his world on my own terms.
Chapter Thirteen
ACTING SKILLS
Jessa
Tetto’s was perchedon the fifty-second floor of a gleaming tower, its floor-to-ceiling windows giving an exclusive five-star view of New York. Griffin had rented out the entire space for the evening for just his executive team and their partners, celebrating a major milestone toward the IPO.
I stepped out of the elevator, a bundle of nerves, in the dress Laurel had insisted on: midnight blue silk that hugged my curves too tightly with a neckline that dipped just low enough to be daring without crossing into scandalous. The slit halfway up my thigh showed plenty of leg. My hair fell in loose waves over one shoulder.
