“Why not?” they both say in unison.
“I… I?—”
“Go get ready, bitch!” Luce shouts, waggling her brows at me.
My stomach twists with excitement. It’s been so long since we’ve been away. “We’re going to Spain?”
“Yeahhhhh!” Megan bumps her hip with mine as we start to dance around the bathroom to“Post Malone” by Sam Feldt.
Two hours later, my skin is as smooth as the day I was born, my hair is washed and set in deep curls, and my nails are a pretty shade of coral.
I feel ready.
I have one more thing I need to do, though, and I know he will hate this. Well, he won’t hate the grovelling. I’m sure he will love that part, but the part when I tell him I’m going… Yeah, he will hate that.
The girls told me to call him, but I knew I couldn’t leave without seeing him. He would probably have a tantrum and come after me in his fancy plane if I did.
These past few weeks has been our best together. He seems so much more relaxed now and even spoke about his dad a little with me, which came completely out of the blue. And I’ve been searching relentlessly for a new studio. Nothing is fitting me or my budget. I’m trying my best not to get down about it.
It will happen.
I called Vinny from the taxi to ask if Mason was in the office, and he told me I wouldn’t need his ID card. He was right. The lady at the reception smiled when I told her my name, letting me straight up.
Checking myself in the elevator mirror, I fluff my hair and pout my lips, noticing they are a little dry. The door pings open, and I quickly lick my lips to make them look shiny.
“Hello,” a friendly voice greets me.
I spin and find a guy standing behind me at the sofas. He is watering a plant–I’m sure I never noticed plants in here before. His three-piece suit–with bow tie–is immaculate.
“Hi,” I say warmly.
“You are Nina!” He points at me with complete certainty.
“I am her.” I shrug.
His smile is infectious, and I can feel my dimples out in full force. “George?” I question.
“Yes. I am him.” He grins. “Oh, you are just as gorgeous in person as in the pictures.”
I can feel my cheeks flush red at the compliment, but then I frown, not understanding. “Pictures?”
He puts down the jug of water and comes to stand next to me. “The ones in Mason’s office. The ones from Paris.”
“Oh, I’ve not seen them.” Mase has my photo in his office?
“Is he expecting you?” He walks with me toward the main desk.
“No, I have an impromptu trip, and I have to break it to him that I’m going away.”
“I can imagine that will go down like a lead balloon.” He eyes my outfit, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Right.” I chuckle.
“You going in? He isn’t busy. Well, he pretends he is, but he isn’t.”
“Yeah,” I let out a nervous rush of air. “I’m going in.”
“Don’t stress it. You got this.”
