“Saints, huh?” I ask, and her eyes widen.
“Most people don’t catch on to that.” She studies me, shifting in the passenger seat. I’m getting used to the sight of her in the pearls and starting to understand why Dane was so eager to buy her clothes. It feels good to supply her with nice things.
But more than clothes or jewelry, I could shower her in experiences. I could introduce her to her favorite celebrities, take her to new countries and show her a world befitting a princess.
The question is on the tip of my tongue—to ask about her favorite music. Maybe Adele or Taylor Swift? Someone younger, like Sabrina Carpenter, or that Rodrigo girl? I could set up a casual lunch through my acquaintances in the music industry.
I don’t end up offering it, though.
First, because I know enough to sense that it will come off as desperate, rather than impressive, to this woman. And second, because we’ve just pulled up to the gate at the marina, and I have to flash my credentials at the guard.
When we pull through, Lucy asks, “What are we doing here?”
Now that she’s in the right clothes and we’ve actually arrived at the job, it’s time to tell her about it. Leaning over, I plant my hand on her seat as we twist along the roads, heading for the yacht at the very end.
“Here’s the deal—the man we’re seeing on this yacht is a potential investor. The money will go toward Cole’s next round of innovations. The tandem line and the self-cleaning stuff. But this guy—” I shrug, “can only do it if he gets the sign-off from his wife. She’s convinced a vibrator company run by men couldn’t possibly be good. Another Victoria’s Secret situation. You know, all that bad press.”
Lucy nods thoughtfully, then says, “But Cole does a lot of work on the products. All that research and testing.”
That’sunexpected. Has she even met Cole? He wasn’t at the office when I got there today, so I thought he was still in Brazil. I file away the peculiar look on her face as something to examine later and forge ahead.
“Iknow that, andyouknow that, but this guy’s wife, she doesn’t know that. So, I need someone familiar with the product to convince her. Preferably, someone she’ll relate to, you know…” I give her a pointed look, and realization dawns over her face.
Lifting her hands, she says, “No, no—Nico, I can’t.”
I like her saying my name, but don’t let it show, “You’ll do fine. Just don’t let on that you’re my assistant, and we’ll be golden.”
“Nico,” she hisses my name as we swing into our parking spot, and I kill the engine. She shifts in the seat, turning to me, the skirt of her tight dress sliding up her thigh slightly. “Seriously, I can’t lie straight to their faces. I’m not good at keeping secrets.”
“Really?” I ask, giving her a half-grin. So maybe I’m not done with the teasing after all. “You’re doing a pretty good job with it so far, sweetheart.”
Lucy blinks rapidly, her mouth puckering, and I step out of the car, quickly coming around to her side to open her door for her.
Then we’re walking up to the yacht together, and even though her resistance is basically radiating from her, I can’t deny how good it feels to have her on my arm.
Chapter 19
Lucy
“Oh mygoodness, I can’t believe it! We could have walked right past each other in Paris, then!”
One of the brunettes on this boat leans forward, laughing and setting her hand on my arm, and I find myself giggling along with her, though what I want to say is,not likely.
Because while she and her friends were probably flouncing around, doing luxury shopping and eating at little corner cafés, Frankie and I were scrounging for money, finding back doors into museums, and sleeping fitfully on hard, stacked hostel bunks.
“It’s such a small world,” I say, instead of the truth. Maybe Nico’s right—maybe I’m decent at this.
The truth is that I don’t have anything in common with the women around me, but thanks to Nico taking me to that salon, Ilooklike I do.
And I look like I belonghere, sitting on this plush leather couch, my legs crossed—thankGodI shaved this morning—the red bottom of my new shoes bouncing.
Behind us, the waves lap gently, and above us, a heat lamp keeps the air warm, despite the fact that it’s almost November now and the sun has slipped down under the line of the horizon.Every day, I’m introduced to another way rich people don’t live in the same universe as me.
“Is that where you and Nico met?” Angel, themark, as Nico described her—making me feel more like I’m in a spy movie than just eating shrimp while my boss schmoozes a few feet away from me—asks, her gaze sweeping over me appraisingly.
I take inspiration from Cole’s earlier story about Dane joining the yachting club in college. “Actually, my Daddy has been on me to learn more about yachting—it’s a family thing, you know—so I looked for a coach. Nico wassonice to help me with it, and, well—all that time on the boat was too romanticnotto feel something.”
Daddymight have been laying it on a little thick, but none of them blink an eye at it, so I carry on as smoothly as I can. After, I take a quick sip of champagne—maybe I’m getting a littletoointo character.
