Page 54 of Fashionista's Playbook

Then Travis turned, something warm and dangerous in his eyes, and his lips curled into a devilish smile. He took my hand and brought my knuckles to his lips again. “This is Moriah Stanhope, my brother Vincent, and the new director of Travis’ Kids, Bianca Duncan. Without each one of these people, my life and my charity wouldn’t last a week.”

With a gentle, persuasive tug, he cradled me against his side and posed. “Just smile, Moriah. Remember, it’s for the kids.”

I’d been unprepared for the gratitude in his voice and didn’t miss that he’d not referred to me as his assistant. As uncomfortable as those flashing lights made me, there were bigger things happening here. I plastered on a smile and placed a hand on his chest, grounding myself against the swell of anxiety.

When the tips of Travis’ fingers brushed the top of my ass, I gripped his suit jacket and bit off a squeal of surprise. With a rumble of laughter in his chest, he ushered us forward, letting his hand drift down until he cupped my bottom and caressed it.

At the end of the carpet, he whispered against my ear. “Hang on me like that the rest of the night, Mariposa, and I’m going to be begging you to undress me.”

My mouth dried up like I’d swallowed sand as he led them inside.

If he kept flirting with me like that, I wasn’t going to make it through the event.

****

Travis wasn’t a schmoozer, but Bianca and Claudia most certainly were. And once I’d shaken off the nerves and treated the event as another part of my job, I wasn’t too far behind them. Tonight was about Travis’ vision, one I’d helped him see through, and telling people all about it wasn’t a chore.

Talking about the man, thinking about him, probably never would be.

“Moriah, come here.” Claudia Jones swept back her thick curtain of hair and grasped me by my elbow as if we were old friends.

And perhaps, in the fast-paced world of the league, maybe we were. I’d spoken to her via text or email daily for weeks now. Considering she was one of the very models I’d swooned over in college, I tried not to feel giddy over that.

“I want you to meet someone.”

A young woman, maybe my age, was standing to the side, talking with several older men. Of them, she wore a black suit the best. Hers was tailored for a woman, with a short jacketpulled tight across the waist with a thin red belt that matched her mile high Jimmy Choo’s.

I had a serious bout of shoe envy.

“Excuse me, gentleman, may I steal her away a moment?” Claudia oozed a sexy confidence that had all the men smiling and nodding to whatever she said.

“Drea Yates, I’d like you to meet Moriah Stanhope.”

Robert Yate’s daughter was barely decade younger than his current wife. The Yates family owned the Outlaws. Her angular face, wide mouth, and deep-set green eyes were captivating. Claudia was beautiful, but Drea could have stolen the attention from every man in the room if she’d wanted to.

“Moriah is Travis’—.”

“Girlfriend.” He finished from beside me, passing me a flute of champagne.

“And a pretty awesome fashion designer.” Claudia winked.

Drea glanced from each of us, a bemused expression on her face. Then she chuckled, her bright red lips splitting into a dazzling smile. “Nice to meet you, Moriah. That dress is fantastic. Welcome, I suppose, to our very eccentric and erratic family of sorts.”

The deep, almost raspy voice surprised me.

“Thank you, I love your shoes.” I didn’t quite know what to say, so I went with the truth. Something familiar about Drea Yates had niggled into my brain.

“Yeah well, with feet this big I don’t get to wear these that often.” She turned her foot sideways, to show them off.

“Trav, man, how’d you convince this radiant being to accompany you to this shindig?” Clutch Berkley slapped Travis on the back as Claudia ducked away, speaking in low tones to one of the attendants working the event.

“Because, Ethan, Madera has real style.” Drea teased, her mouth twisted in a wry smile.

Clutch grabbed his chest, wounded. “I will beg from my knees if you consider a date with me.”

Drea snorted, rolled her eyes, but their easy banter was that of old friends. “Fat chance, buster.”

Travis watched me, his dark eyes warm. It wouldn’t be that hard to be a part of his life like this. Yeah, I was a fraud, I didn’t belong with these people. But when he looked at me like that, I felt like I did.

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