Page 32 of A Private Affair
Korey frowned and Riley knew why. He wanted to know what was wrong with her. While her assistant hadn’t dared to ask her that question again, Riley knew he was still wondering. She could tell by the way he looked at her daily when he thought she didn’t notice.
“They’re beautiful.” Korey watched her closely.
“They’re flowers,” she replied but sighed when she looked at them because they were gorgeous.
She wasn’t a romantic by any stretch of the imagination, but this large bouquet filled with exotic-looking flowers and crisp greenery was exactly what she would like to receive if she were inclined to receive such gifts. Only she had no idea who would have sent them or why. She was certain it wasn’t Chaz because they were simply having an affair. There was no romance involved, even though that candlelight dinner with just the two of them had been really close to a real date.
“I need to speak with you, Riley.”
The booming voice had both Riley and Korey looking toward her open office door. Ronald Gold, Sr., blocked the access with his broad frame and piercing gaze.
“I was just leaving,” Korey said, offering Riley an apologetic look before hurrying out of her office.
Riley slipped the card into her pocket. “Hi, Dad.”
Ron closed the door behind Korey and walked the short distance to where Riley was standing in front of the desk. She’d moved in an attempt to block the flowers. Her father came close and first tweaked her nose before pulling her into a tight hug.
Riley melted into the hug, wrapping her arms around her father’s expansive build. If he hadn’t gone into fashion, her father could have definitely been a professional wrestler. In addition to his build, Ron’s imposing stature and voice gave him an air of command. But when it was just the two of them, when his large arms were around her and holding Riley tight, he was just her dad.
“Somebody’s sending my baby girl flowers?”
Riley hurriedly pulled out of his embrace and turned to look at the flowers again.
“I don’t know who they’re from. Korey just brought them in seconds before you arrived. But, anyway, what’s going on? I thought you and Maurice were out making the rounds at all the preshow events this week.” There was nothing, not even sports, her father loved to discuss more than the fashion empire his father had built.
“Probably one of the manufacturers or the boutique owners that want to carry our new collections.”
She hadn’t thought of that and felt a wave of relief now that her father had put that possibility out there.
“You may be right. So what brings you here? I sent the latest projections via email this morning. I’m going over long-term numbers now.”
Ron reached inside his black suit jacket and pulled out a rolled-up newspaper. He slapped it down onto the desk a few inches away from the floral arrangement.
“I called his editor this morning and very strongly suggested an apology be printed first thing tomorrow. We are not here to be used for their amusement.”
Riley refused to let her fingers shake as she picked up the paper and read the first few lines of the article.
Riley Gold wishes her ex and his soon-to-be wife well, but won’t be designing the bride’s dress.
She tried to swallow but it was hard. Instead she focused once again on breathing and surprisingly her breaths came easier, sooner, than she’d anticipated. She shook her head.
“I thought the guy only ran a blog, not that he had a byline at this trashy tabloid, as well. Anyway, I suppose he had to find something to take up space.”
She dropped the paper into the trash can on her way to the other side of her desk. Ron was already pacing in the space that she’d left vacant and Riley sat in her chair.
“Not at our expense! I made it clear they would never get another interview or invitation to any of our private events if they didn’t have an apology on the front page tomorrow morning. The editor is old-school but needs the readers so he was hesitant, said his guy got a direct quote from you.”
“He did.” She leaned forward and rested her arms on the desk. “He stopped me after the style summit and asked about the collection. When I wouldn’t tell him, he brought up Walt and his fiancée. He asked if we were designing her dress. I told him no and that I wished Walt well. Which is the absolute truth.”
Riley had decided a few years ago that wishing him dead wasn’t going to change what had happened.
“Don’t give them ammunition, Riley. How many times have I told you that?”
“If truth is ammunition, then I might as well yell ‘no comment’ every time I see a reporter coming toward me. Look, Dad, I know what they’re doing. They’re trying to bait me, ruffle my feathers, throw me off my game. I’m not going to let that happen.”
Ron stared at her seriously for a moment before chuckling and shaking his head. “Stubborn. Just like your mama.”
Riley sat back in her chair, for the first time in her life truly feeling unbothered by Walter Stone and his childish antics.
