Page 13 of Love Lessons
She hesitates. “Well, I want to style you. I only have one other male client—Neil Drake. But my portfolio needs more bragging rights, so I would do it at cost.” She gives me hopeful eyes. “Please say yes. And I wouldn’t ask you a million questions. I’d just bring you some choices, and you’d say yes or no. It would be so easy. I promise.”
Oh man. “Sorry, that’s never happening.”
“But why?” She visibly deflates. “Everyone has to wear clothes, Ian. I’m just offering to do the donkey work of dragging them next door to your man cave.”
She doesn’t see the problem—that she’ll be measuring my inseam for a suit, and I’ll be thinking dirty thoughts about tying her up with her tape measure and whipping out my dick. “You don’t get it. The things I want from you aren’t sold in stores. It’snottrue that everyone has to wear clothes, you know. Your goal is to put clothes on me, but I just want to take yours off.”
Her mouth falls open in surprise.
“Yeah. Only a dick would hire someone for a job and then hit on them the whole time. So we obviously can’t work together.”
Her cheeks turn pink as she says, “You’re making fun of me now.”
“What? No fucking way.” I study her for a moment, especially her uncertain brown eyes. “Countess, I’m not joking. Why is that so hard to understand? Run your hands all over my face again, and I’ll give you a demonstration of all the big ideas it gave me.”
Her eyes go soft and dreamy, and I think I’ve finally made my point.
But then we’re interrupted by a wolf whistle, and it’s aimed at me. “Who the hell is that hottie in the new haircut? Can I have that stud’s autograph?”
FIVE
Night, Countess
IAN
When I turn my head,I see Patrick O’Doul—my team captain—parking his ass on the railing of Vera’s staircase. “Doulie, don’t tease. I had a rough day. Vera here did the haircut, though. You can thank her for making that mugshot look like old news.”
O’Doul chuckles. “Vera, you’re a miracle worker. This guy usually looks like an overgrown shrubbery. Anyone drinking that extra beer?”
“Come and get it,” I offer. “Vera’s not a fan.”
“Doesn’t make me a bad person,” she says stiffly.
“Did I say it did?”
I open the beer for Patrick, and he takes a seat on a stair just below us. It’s a beautiful night, which means that front stoops all over Brooklyn have beckoned people into doing exactly this. I drink my beer, while O’Doul makes some small talk with Vera. She seems charmed by him. Hell, I think she likes everyone better than she likes me.
A taxi glides up to the curb, and someone exits the backseat. It’s nobody I know, though. Just some guy in a tailored suit and very shiny shoes.
Vera glances his way and does a major double take. “Oh God,” she whispers. Her eyes go very round. “Shit.” She jumps to her feet like the stairs are on fire, and I see her take a critical glance down at herself before hastily brushing off her dress.
Maybe there’s a bit of my hair on her, but it can’t be much. She looks as sexy as she did a few hours ago when she first walked into Drake’s kitchen. Maybe she has plans with this guy?
The man spots her and smiles. “Vera!There you are. You haven’t answered my texts tonight.”
“Danforth. Wow,” she says. “Sorry. I’ve been occupied.” She’s smiling, but it looks oddly nervous.
Hmm. Who is this guy?
And why do I care?
Mr. Suit strides toward the steps. He eyes me and O’Doul with a dismissive glance and climbs toward Vera without a word to us. “Let’s catch up,” he says to her. “Tell me everything.”
“One moment,” she says a little stiffly. “Ian?”
“Yo!” I look up at her nervous face.
“Can I leave my things with you for now?”
