But this is his car.
But still.
Oh god.
I slap my hand over my eyes. Shut the f**k up, Dayton. Love obviously makes me a little neurotic and a whole lot batshit crazy.
The car pulls up outside a tall glass building proclaiming Stone Advertising above the large doors. Aaron’s standing in front of it, his eyes on the sleeve he’s playing with. Some guy in a suit opens my door.
Blue eyes meet mine as I leave the car, and I raise my eyebrow. “Care to explain why you’ve pulled me down to your office on short notice?”
“I need your help to select some images.”
“Are you kidding me?” I stop in front of him and poke his solid chest. “You pulled me down here without any kind of message to pick some damn photos? Do you know how crazy I just went in the car?”
Evidently, he doesn’t care—not if the grin tugging at his lips is anything to go by. He pulls me into him. “Why? Were you worried about me?”
“Yes,” I answer honestly.
He smiles as he kisses me. “I’m sorry. I’ll send your friend the concierge with a hand-delivered message next time.”
“Probably not a good idea. I wasn’t wearing anything when he called.”
His step falters as he pulls me into the elevator. “Nothing? At all?”
“Well, I was wearing your shirt, but other than that—nothing. He would have had quite the sight if he’d hand-delivered a message.”
“Forget the hand delivery. The only person who gets to see you in my shirt is me.” He pulls me past a receptionist with wide eyes and leans in. “She has a crush on me.”
“Of course she does. I mean, she only works in a building where it’s not uncommon to see hot male models walk in and out every day. Why wouldn’t she want the boss?”
“Behave, Dayton.”
“You know my thoughts on that word.”
He eyes me sharply and takes me into a large office with a perfect view of the Duomo.
“I think I just found my new favorite place,” I say softly.
“Ric!” Aaron snaps the name of the guy he was talking to yesterday and follows it up with a string of Italian. The guy I assume is Ric brushes it off and crosses the room to me.
“Signora Black, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Ric kisses my hand. I meet Aaron’s hard eyes over his shoulder.
“And you, Ric. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Liar, liar. Make the guy feel good.
“All good, I hope?”
“From what I’ve been told, there’s no way it can’t be.”
“Can we get on with this?” Aaron asks in a tight voice. “These images need be back in Donna’s hands by five tonight so she can pick the absolute finals. Not to mention you have a lunch date with your wife.”
God, I love jealous Aaron.
I join him at the desk and look at the images spread out. “And why do you need me?”
“Bella, the person who usually picks these out, is off sick today. On a normal day, we’d put them back until she’s back in the office and spin a line about a fault at the printers.”
“So why don’t you?”
“Because Donna is fashion royalty, and you give her what she wants hours before she wants it. Which means we have approximately forty five minutes to pick twenty images and courier them across the city to her office.” Aaron rests his hand on my back. “And we need a woman’s eyes on them.”
“This ‘working for you’ thing is becoming a habit, Mr. Stone.” I sigh and lean forward. “What am I looking for?”
Ric passes me a pad of paper with a brief description on—thankfully translated to English. From the rambling paragraph, it’s obvious to see that Donna wants images that show the class of her designs but are still sexy.
“Move.” I hit Aaron in the chest with the pad and he steps back. Ric moves before I have to say anything, and I wink at him before giving the images my full attention.
Almost kiss. Hand on the thigh while leaning back. Hug from behind, his lips bent toward her neck. Her mouth parted and his thumb on her bottom one.
On and on they go, a never-ending stream of photos that are all the same yet so different.
“Here.” Aaron hands me a brochure. “This is her usual.”
“These aren’t sexy-classy.”
“What?”
“Sexy-classy. That’s what she wants. Teasing images that have the sexiness to appeal to the younger generation but still carry the class to attract the older ladies.”
Both men stare at me. “Why didn’t we get that?” Aaron asks Ric before turning back to me. “Keep this up and I’ll hire you.”
The irony of his words makes my lips twist, and he realizes what he’s said at the raise of my eyebrows. And there isn’t a single thing he can say to take it back.
Slowly, I turn my attention back to the table and the images staring at me. Those three words… A careless slip of the tongue. Something that’s said every day without any repercussions. Something you’d say teasingly to your girlfriend.
Something she’d accept with a laugh instead of a pang to her chest.
Because, a lingering voice reminds me, he did hire me. And that’s the only reason I’m here now. I can love him all I like, but I’m still a call girl.
And the little pangs like the ones I’m feeling are the very reason we don’t have relationships.
I flick through the images I’ve chosen and hand them to Aaron. “Here. They’re the best ones.”
His eyes search mine, and I know he caught the hitch in my voice. “Thank you. Ric, have these sent out and on Donna’s desk by the time she gets back from her lunch. Go and meet Francesca early. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the help baby shopping. Send her my love.”
“Si. Grazie, Aaron. I will.” Ric looks at me with warm brown eyes. “It was pleasure to meet you, signora.”
“And you, Ric.” I smile after him.
“Tell Rosa to hold all my calls on your way.” Aaron shuts the door and twists the lock. “Day—”
“Don’t.” I laugh and turn to gather the remaining pictures on the desk. “It slipped out, right? There’s nothing odd about joking to hire your girlfriend who happens to be saving your ass.” I flatten my hands against the thick wood and drop my head. “Well, maybe it is if the only reason she’s here in the first place is because she’s hired to be.”