Lucy peeked out from behind his leg. “Come in, come in,” she said around a pin stuck between her teeth. “David, you remember—”
“Olivia,” he said and turned his head over his shoulder to meet my gaze.
How had he known? The man had a sixth sense for me. I had one for him, too, evidenced by the way I’d felt him at the restaurant opening a couple weeks earlier before I’d even laid eyes on him.
My surprise must’ve shown on my face.
“With a voice like that,” he said, angling to give me his profile, “I’d know her anywhere.”
I touched my neck. I’d met with another bachelor that afternoon who’d said my “rasp” reminded him of Lauren Bacall.
With a measured step into the room, I set my purse and some work I’d brought for the weekend on a chair. Normally, I would’ve kicked off my heels and curled up withVoguewhile Lucy finished. But the pair of sky-high YSL pumps on my feet suddenly felt wasted on anyone who wasn’t the god before me, so I left them on.
Lucy removed the pin to stick it in David’s pant leg, then gasped. “I just had the best idea,” she said, glancing up at David—and up and up. “Olivia’s in the running for a competitive promotion at work. She’s looking for bachelors forChicago Mmagazine’s ‘Most Eligible’ feature. David, since you’re such a popular bachelor, maybe . . .”
David arched an eyebrow at me.
“Actually, David already agreed to do it,” I said. “It turns out, Diane had reached out to him.”
“Of course she did.” Lucy beamed. “David must be the most eligible bachelor in all of Chicago. You’ll be great, David,” she said, and added, “and now that I’m your personal stylist, best dressed to boot.”
“Thank you, Lucy,” he said, his ridiculously deep voice rumbling through the small space.
“I’m sorry, Liv,” Lucy said. “I know we’re supposed to leave in fifteen minutes, but David had a sartorial emergency.”
“Black-tie gala at the Museum of Contemporary Art tonight,” he explained, “and my Prada tux is at my New York apartment. I didn’t mean to keep you.”
“Not at all,” Lucy said. “Liv and I have a double date this weekend up at Andrew’s parents’ cabin on the lake. Andrew and Bill—Liv’s husband—are picking us up on the way out of town.” Lucy stood, brushing off her dress. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable, Liv.”
She rushed out, leaving David and me in complete silence.
David rotated to face me. I stayed across the room, as far as I could get, resisting the infuriating urge to be near him. To go to him. If he commanded me again the way he’d sent me to the lift at the construction site—I worried I’d be unable to resist.
“I’m surprised to see you,” he said finally.
“Last time we spoke, you forbade us from being alone.”
I crossed my arms. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“That’s too bad.” His eyes scanned over me. “I’d kind of hoped you’d worn that outfit for me.”
I inhaled under his perusal, willing myself not to react. A snakeskin belt cinched the waist of my fitted black dress, giving the illusion of curves. The neckline scooped, revealing a small glimpse of cleavage. I was wearing higher-than-usual pumps, but they matched the belt—unavoidable. With the four-inch boost, I figured my lips would come right up to his neck, or maybe just past, to his chin . . .
“If you expect me to behave, don’t wear things like that,” he said and opened his arms to display a classic black and white tuxedo. “What do you think?” he asked. “Does it suit me?”
My fingers curled into fists. My cheeks burned. He was so goddamn beautiful. Why did he have to besobeautiful? I could throw caution and sense aside and run and leap into his arms. Cover his face with kisses. Linger on the soft spots andrelishthe coarse ones. Press my willing self against his hard body, locking my snakeskins around his lower back so we were perfectly aligned . . .
I blinked, forcing myself from the fantasy. “It—it needs tailoring,” I said, bridling the heat rising in me.
He moved in front of a floor-length mirror. “Agreed.”
My eyes darted to a rolling rack with four crisp ensembles. “Are these all yours?”
“My event starts in an hour. Lucy had these on hand and pulled them all to see what would work.”
Lucy’s heels clicked in the hallway, muting once she hit the carpeted office. “They’re leftover rentals from a Chicago Bears event,” she said behind me. “David’s got a similar build to a couple of the players. Not a perfect solution, but it works in a pinch.”
Lucy went to the rolling rack and removed a different tux. She practically pushed David into a curtained off area. “Try this one,” she said. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll have to fix the hem of the one you’re wearing real quick.” She gave him a dress shirt. “And the shirt you’re wearing is too tight. This should fit better.”
