Or buy her an obscene amount and deliver them later that evening.
I’m not going to hound her, but the power of persuasion is a beautiful thing when used at the right time. And that’s not now. Maybe tomorrow or the next day and if not a week later, but one thing is for certain—I’m not giving up on her. She’s too talented and beautiful, and I admire her stubborn streak that believes by taking my offer she’s indebted to her friend.
I’ll let her sleep on it.
“Tomorrow is another day.”
I’ve been sitting inside the bakery shop for the last two hours, nursing my drink. The place is packed, the tables full, and yet I have the perfect view of the front door.
I also have incredible luck when at fifty past nine, Gabriella steps through the door with an AirPod in each ear and a slightly grumpy expression on her face. Not a morning person, I see.
She’s wearing a Ramones crop top that leaves just enough skin on display to tempt and a pair of cargo pants that have seen better days low on her hips. They’re paint-stained and have a hole at the knee, but with the way she walks to the counter and orders—the way heads turn her way and the cashier smiles—you’d swear she was on a catwalk.
So beautiful. So unaware.
“Should I stay or leave?” Tero, outside of being my assistant, is one of my oldest friends. Much too observant too. “No problem on my end.”
“Stay. She’ll be more comfortable that way.”
“Of course, although I’d say seeing you right now would be very welcomed.” His head tilts in her direction and I look, eyes narrowing at what I find. There’s a man beside her now, trying to shift closer, and the pinched look on her face screams discomfort. He’s blind to this, though, too busy letting his eyes roam her face and a little lower—
I don’t answer Tero. Don’t acknowledge his low chuckle, and before the idiot can send another flirtatious smile in her direction, I’m next to her.
“Hello, stranger.”
“Theodore,” it’s a shaky whisper tinged with gratitude and relief before our eyes meet. Her smile is genuine and soft, and the asshole on her other side notices. He also coughs, but her sole focus is on me. “What are you doing here?”
“Same as you.” For a second, my eyes flick to the man wearing a uniform, khaki pants and red polo with some store’s name I don’t bother to read, and he stumbles back. Almost drops his coffee and exits, for once using his common sense. “Needed copious amounts of sugar after being up all night re-examining the proposed showing you declined.”
Her cheeks turn pink while those green orbs give me an apologetic look. “I’m really sorry about all that. If you need me to pay for—”
“I’d never take your money.”
“But I did make you waste your time.”
“Not really.” That piqued her interest, her brows furrowing while my smile broadens. “Will you give me a few minutes of your time to explain? I swear it’ll be worth your while.”
“I don’t know...”
“Aren’t you curious about who I’m replacing you with?” Gabriella’s reaction to my words is instantaneous. Her eyes narrow and lips thin, hand clenching a bit around her cup. It causes the lid to pop a bit and a few drops to drip down her fingers. “I mean, she’s not our first choice—”
“Sure. Let’s go talk about my replacement.” The latest half is muttered under her breath, and fuck me, her sour expression is adorable. Makes me want to bite her. To wrap those red locks around my fist. “Where’s your...never mind.”
And I follow those thick hips toward the table Tero’s sitting at, his light blue eyes filled with a mirth he won’t display. Her scent swirls around me, pulls me in closer, and I’m only content when my hand meets the small of her back.
I let it linger there and she doesn’t complain, gifting me with the small feel of warm skin on my fingertips.
“Miss Moore.”
“Uh huh.” Gabriella waits beside a chair, and I pull it out for her before taking a seat myself. Her fingernails drum on the wooden top, eyes searching the two contracts in plain sight. “So, that’s her?”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Is there something I’m unaware of?” I’m not lying to her. This is my backup plan, but I won’t deny playing dirty in order to change her mind. Because no one likes to be replaced and she’s no different, reading down Cecily Marie’s achievements and sales figures to her last show in the states. “Please speak up if there is. Whatever you say stays here.”
“She’s brilliant, no denying that.”
“But?”
“Her reputation is one of diva status and problematic with both staff and clientele. That’s on you if you want that headache on your hands.”
A smile threatens to escape but I hold it back, nodding instead as though understanding. “I’ve heard a few things but have been left with little to no choice. The artist and dates will be announced this week. I don’t have time to scour the country for the next up-and-coming gem.”
“You could still do better.”
“Cecily Marie isn’t my first choice, but...”
At my trail off, her arms cross over her chest and lips purse. “Oh, you’re good.”
“How so?” I ask, giving her a perplexed look. Feeding her an innocent lie.
“Tero, how—”
“I’m just an observer here.” The man holds both hands up, almost tipping over his coffee cup in his haste. “That, and he does sign my check.”
