“I looked on the Internet, not into a crystal ball.”
His laugh made her smile. The conversation made her dizzy. He was like no one she’d ever met. The sex question had thrown her for a loop, and she still wasn’t sure she wanted to bare that much of her life to a stranger, but on the other hand, my God. He was fascinating. She hadn’t been fascinated by a man in… forever.
“Well, next time, go beyond Google. I’m in there.”
“What would I find?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m not going to tell you. I don’t want to be the only one who’s surprised during our time together.”
“I think that ship has sailed. I’m surprised. Trust me.”
He leaned over so his mouth came very close to her ear. So close, she could feel his warm breath. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he whispered.
“No,” she said, her voice just as soft, although she couldn’t fathom why. “I imagine I haven’t.” After she cleared her throat, uncrossed her legs and checked the time, she turned to him again. “But let’s try not to shock me out of my wits, shall we? This week is awfully important.”
“I can’t make any promises,” he said. “But I’ll try.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s time to hit the sack. Unless you want dessert?”
She shook her head. “I need sleep. As much as I can steal.”
“Then let me take care of this posthaste.”
He was true to his word, and in short order they were back at the suite Owen had so kindly provided. The first thing she saw when she turned on the light was a basket of inordinate size sitting on the coffee table. She crossed the room and plucked the card from the wrapping. She read:
Jessica, I loved the gag. Let’s talk. Breakfast tomorrow before Bloomingdale’s? I’ll be in the coffee shop at six.
The note wasn’t signed, but of course she knew who it was from. At least she knew she’d be having breakfast in the suite.
“Cool basket,” Dan said. “From Owen?”
“Yep.”
“I see chocolate. I see champagne. Excellent.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s worried. By the time the party’s over tomorrow night, he’ll be totally convinced.”
“I hope so.”
“Trust me.”
She tossed the card on the table and looked into Dan’s eyes. “You know what’s completely weird?”
“What?”
“I do.”
MARLA CHECKED her clipboard for the fiftieth time in the last hour. Everything had gone like clockwork at the makeover, which made her very nervous.
All ten of the lucky winners had been coiffed, massaged, facialed and made up with New Dawn cosmetics, and they all looked fabulous. Pictures had been taken, the media had been cooperative, and all in all, the first leg of Operation New Dawn had been a smashing success.
Now, while Jessica was doing her last-minute thing at the Panorama, Marla was in charge of collecting the models and getting them spruced up and prepared for the night’s soiree.
No problem. Except, of course, for one thing. In Marla’s not-so-humble opinion, the model, no
Just thinking about him made her palms all sweaty, which sucked because she might get to touch him, and she didn’t want him going “Ugh” first thing. First impressions, and all.
But, oh, he was so…She sighed. His hair, honey-wheat and thick, tumbled around his face in the sexiest possible way. His brown eyes were sweet and soulful. She sighed. She was going to be a gibbering idiot when she met him, she just knew it.
Checking her watch again, she saw the models were due in, like, two minutes. They had taken over half the salon at the hotel, and cordoned it off. A whole lot of lookie-loos were standing outside the barricade, waiting to see what was going on. Also some paparazzi, but she wasn’t worried. Publicity was the name of this game.
All she had to do was not trip or throw up or something. Act like a professional. Act like Jessica. She could do it. At least she could try.
A limousine pulled up under the awning, and a uniformed bellman went to the door. Marla’s heart started thumping in her chest and she wiped her hands on her skirt. Pasting on a smile, she walked to the curb, but it was just Sheree. Of course, the throng went a little nuts, and the flashbulbs exploded all around, but she’d met the supermodel before, and Sheree even remembered her name. Marla escorted her to the waiting stylists, made sure she had coffee, then skedaddled back outside.
Two more models showed up, and Marla hustled them inside, and then, it happened. He arrived. The only male model, there to show off Daybreak cologne, he stepped out of his limo wearing worn jeans, a Joe Boxer T- shirt and scuffed Skechers. Her heart skipped, jumped, leapt as he turned her way and smiled. Oh, God! That smile. That face. That hair. She couldn’t take it. She was going to die, right here, and that would be okay because Shawn had smiled at her as if she was a real person or something.
“You must be Marla,” he said.
His voice. It was just as she’d imagined. Soft, low, perfect. She managed a nod.
“Great to meet you. I’m Shawn.” He held out his hand.
She panicked. Sweat. Ugh. But she couldn’t wipe it again. Not while he stood there. So she just swallowed hard and stuck it out there.
His grip was gentle, but not wussy. He hesitated for just a few seconds. She knew because she counted every heartbeat. Then he let her go, at least her hand. Not her gaze. That he held, and she was lost. Lost.
“Where to?” he asked.
“I don’t…Oh. Uh, this way.” She spun around, almost losing her footing, but she didn’t fall, thank God, and she somehow walked him past all the photographers and gawkers until he was inside the salon.
Terry, the lucky dog, was going to put on Shawn’s makeup for all the pictures and stuff. There were going to be tons of TV cameras and photographers. But he didn’t seem to mind. He just sat down, grinned and said, “Have at it.”
Marla watched as Terry put a big cape over his body, then ran her fingers through his hair.
That was it. All Marla could stand. If she watched for another second she would expire from the sheer magnificence of it all.
She tore her gaze from the mirror, then from the back of his head. She forced herself to take a step, then another until she was around the corner. She slumped against the wall, desperate to get her breathing back to normal. She still had a lot of work to do. But for the moment, while she recovered, she could think about the way he’d smiled.
She sighed. It was going to be a weird and wonderful week.
Why do men get married?
What are a woman’s four favorite animals?
