Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Kendall was always excited about magazine spreads, and the photographer for this one was highly sought after. I’d looked up his work after the two of them gushed on and on about him, and I supposed I could see the appeal. His work was more quaint, maybe? Charming? Every photographer they’d worked with seemed great at their craft, some more temperamental and particular than others.
“Before I forget, should I RSVP for that cancer charity event?” I’d noticed how involved Rowan was with different charities. Guess there was one redeeming thing about him. “You have until Monday to decide.”
He frowned, avoiding Kendall’s gaze. “What’s the dress code this year?”
I flipped to the invite, which I’d paper-clipped to the page. “Black tie.”
He turned toward the window, pensive, like he was thinking hard about it. That was pretty unlike him when it came to these sorts of events. Some he appeared more excited about than others, but he generally was more decisive.
“Is something wrong? I thought you liked dressing up.”
“Of course I do, it’s just…the guest list includes some undesirables…never mind. Go ahead and RSVP.” He brightened suddenly. “For two. You can tag along and see what all the fuss is about.”
“What?” My head snapped up. “No, I…I don’t even own a tux.”
“Good thing you work for a famous stylist, then,” he said, and Kendall chuckled.
I held back a groan. I’d been privy to lots of cool events over the past months, but to be stuck in a monkey suit with Rowan? Kill me now.
When he stepped out of the room to retrieve one more shoe idea for Kendall’s outfit, I stood there staring into space, wondering again why I was holding on to this job that was more irritating than anything else. I could have a perfectly boring job in the corporate world and be home every day by six.
“Between you and me,” Kendall said, leaning toward me, “Brett will likely be attending that fundraiser.”
“Really?” Suddenly his reluctance made sense. He didn’t want to be in the same room as his ex. Christ, what in the hell had happened between them?
“Yep. They used to appear together because the disease runs in both their families.”
“Oh.” I glanced at the invite again. Colon cancer. Was that how his father had passed away?
Damn it. I hated that I felt sorry for him.
“He might need a distraction,” she said.
And I’d provide him one?
“Won’t you be making an appearance?” I asked, hoping I’d have some company. I couldn’t picture Rowan entertaining me all night. More than likely, he’d leave me to fend for myself while he spoke to all his society friends. That absolutely did not sound like my idea of a good night.
“I have in the past, but I’m out of town that weekend.” She patted my hand. “Don’t worry, you’ll manage. Plus, the food will taste good, and there’s an open bar.”
I winced as I imagined myself in the corner of some cramped room, stuffing my face with crudités—or were they canapés?—and downing a glass of expensive wine. “Guess that’s something.”
3
After another long day in a busy week, I was back at my apartment to eat a quick dinner of ramen noodles before working for a couple more hours. I turned on the burner to boil the water and decided on chicken flavor today. Fancy.
Casey would be home any minute from building the set for his newest job. Apparently, the market was fierce, but once you got your foot in the door, you were a shoo-in for more productions. He’d been referred for this off-Broadway show by his former stage manager, and I was proud of him. His parents were too.
Casey was happy as long as he was working on or near a stage—it was that way in high school as well. I’d always wished I’d known from an early age exactly what I was meant to do instead of taking generic classes while moving from one boring job to another. And now I was essentially trying to please a rich, self-important fashionista who had name recognition from his father and was bothered when anyone pointed it out.
Okay, stop thinking of your boss off the clock. But he was such a big presence that I couldn’t help myself. Plus, sometimes, he seemed an absolute enigma.
But my workday wasn’t finished yet, and I needed to get a move on so I could party with Casey later. I almost changed into worn jeans, but that wouldn’t go over well, so I just straightened my shirt and made sure my hair was presentable. It could get messy, the dark strands flying loose at my temples if I didn’t keep up with them.
“Did you quit yet?” Casey asked as he swept through the door.
My shoulders slumped. “Unfortunately, no. It’s bad enough that I’m eating ramen noodles.”
“It’s okay, Padawan, we’ll get you there,” he said in his best Clone Wars voice as he rubbed my shoulder. “I picked up a couple of slices of pizza from the corner.”