I frown. I know this story. I stumbled across it when I was reviewing her case files this morning. Apparently, when Briar was a teenager, she dated a co-star on her show, Thomas Petty. The two went out for a few months, then she broke his heart when she cheated on him with another teenage boy.
Why the Hell is this middle-aged guy asking a woman about her sixteen-year-old sex life? That’s just plain creepy.
I put my hand on Briar’s back, preparing to shoulder her through the doorway, but she digs in her heels and gives the pap a bright smile. “Honestly?” She raises her eyebrows, leaning in. “I’ll give you the scoop.” She pauses for effect. “Because he was shit in bed. I’ve never met a man so utterly incompetent. Getting eaten out by him was like getting licked by a Saint Bernard. He kissed like an iguana catching flies. And his prick was about an inch long, and always stank. I think he had some sort of fungal issue, or something.” She tosses her hair back. “Quote me on that.”
With that, shebreezes right past him into the building.
“Bit harsh,” I mutter, stepping in behind her and closing the door. The thick glass immediately shuts out the noise, although flashes still flicker behind us.
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”
We step into a ridiculously luxurious reception area. The walls are papered in pale gold, and the floor is tiled with marble. A massive crystal chandelier hangs down from the middle of the ceiling.
“Hey, Anna,” Briar flounces up to the front desk. “I have an appointment with Michel?”
The receptionist smiles and checks her computer. “Good afternoon, Miss Saint. I’m afraid he’s currently meeting with another client, they’ve run a bit overtime. If you’d just take a seat in the waiting area, I can get you some bubbly—”
A nearby door flies open. I whirl around to face it, automatically moving in front of Briar as a man dressed all in white bursts into the room. He’s tanned and dark-haired, with a peroxide-white smile and a tape measure dangling around his neck. “Briar!” he exclaims. “God, you lookstunningtoday, babe.”
“Hello, Michel. He’s fine, Matt.”
“You the designer?” I ask, ignoring her.
The guy nods. “Michel Blanc, at your service.”
I wave him over. “I need to pat you down.”
“Excuseme?”
“If you’re going to be touching my client, I need to confirm that you’re unarmed.”
“You know he’ll be using needles and scissors, right?” Briar drawls. “If he wanted to stab me, he wouldn’t need a concealed weapon.”
“It’s fine, love,” Michel assures her. I give him a quick pat down, then slap him on the back.
“You’re good to go.”
He winces, rubbing his back, then flits over to Briar, kissing her on both cheeks. “Come in, come in!” He starts to shepherd her to the studio. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week!”
“B-but what about your current appointment?” Anna squeaks from behind the desk.
Michel waves a hand dismissively. “He can come back some other time. ALAN!” He calls over his shoulder. “YOU NEED TO LEAVE NOW.”
A red-faced man scuttles out of the room, shirt unbuttoned. “But I still need a pocket square!” He complains, trying to fix his cufflinks.
“You can make your orders on my website,” Michel says, not taking his eyes off Briar. “I always have room for my favourite client. We’re fitting your dress for the gala, right? You are going tolovewhat we came up with for you!”
Briar nods. “And my bodyguard needs a suit.”
The designer flicks his eyes over me dismissively. “Big boy, huh? I’m not sure we’ll have any pants that fit you. Spin for me.”
I stare at him. “No.”
He sighs. “Well, judging by your thigh size, I guess you probably have a pretty big ass, too. We’ll get to you later.” He turns on his heel and heads for the open door. “Come on, then.”
I rub my forehead, following Michel and Briar into the fitting studio. This is why I like working for politicians. Don’t get me wrong, most of them are unbearable, but at least no one ever comments on my ass.
The inside of the studio is big, with overhead lighting, plush sofas, and huge floral arrangements on every flat surface. The walls are lined with racks stuffed with dresses and shirts and suits. I eye a flamingo-pink tuxedo decorated with sequin pineapples.
