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)
He’d offered a genuine, if shy, smile this morning upon seeing me before his face transformed into his normal facade of arrogance and indifference. That had left my stomach a bit unsettled. He was right about what he’d said at the bar—about us not being able to walk away and still needing to face each other in the morning—and it left me feeling cold. But what did I expect? I was secretly hooking up with my boss. It wasn’t an easy situation for either of us. And yet we were stupid enough to keep doing it when we really didn’t like each other in everyday life. Or did we? We certainly gravitated toward each other enough, but that was more about routine and necessity than anything else. Wasn’t it?
“What’s on your schedule today?” Kendall asked from across the table as her two friends were busy loading their plates at the buffet. Rowan had barely looked my way after the others sat down, so maybe he was afraid he’d give himself away as well. Or he was just being Rowan and compartmentalizing things. I should be thankful for that and less bitter.
“Designer showrooms and Rodeo Drive, of course,” Rowan replied, as if he’d done this routine a dozen times before. And he obviously had, but to me, it was fascinating and terrifying too.
“Is Rodeo Drive that street where Julia Roberts shops in Pretty Woman? My mom loves that movie.” They all laughed. “Will you be lending me a polka-dot dress and wide-brim hat so I look presentable?”
That scene had always stuck out to me in the movie, and here I was, practically reliving the scene with my secondhand clothes. Maybe I should’ve prepared better.
“Honey, if anyone looks at you sideways, just tell them who sent you and then give them the snub,” Kendall said. “Rodeo is too pretentious even for me, so I’m glad not to be tagging along.”
Well, that was interesting but not surprising.
“You’ll be fine,” Rowan said in a lower register—half soothing, half exasperated. So, the usual. At least I could count on that.
“I informed my driver he’ll be assisting you today for all your shopping needs,” Kendall said.
Rowan dipped his head. “Thank you.”
After breakfast, everyone dispersed as Rowan and I made our way toward the foyer to meet the driver. Once in the car and heading down the canyon, I looked at my cell, remembering that today was opening night for Casey. I pulled up the text window as my gut churned with guilt.
Have an amazing show tonight! Break a leg or whatever they call it for set designers.
Thank you! And thank everyone for the flowers.
The what?
I stared at my phone like it had caught on fire.
Rowan’s eyebrows formed a line. “What’s wrong?”
I motioned to the text exchange. “Flowers?”
“It’s the thing you do for Broadway productions. But usually after the show. Since you won’t be there and we took you away from your friend’s big night, I thought flowers were in order.”
“You…what?”
“Do I really have to repeat myself?” He rubbed at his forehead.
Rowan Abernathy was officially the most baffling person I’d ever met.
“What did the card say?”
“Break a leg, from the Kendall Jacobs Show.”
“I’m…I’m…”
“Speechless, apparently.”
“Yes, that.” My stomach filled with warmth. “That was so thoughtful.”
He lowered his voice. “I believe the word you used last night was generous.”
“That too.”
Our gazes fused together for far too long a moment. It wasn’t until the car lurched around a curve that we finally snapped out of it and looked away.
I glanced at my phone and typed: You’re welcome.
17
Rowan and I had a busy morning of designer showrooms, which looked much like the ones on the other side of the country, but when we got to Rodeo Drive, I’d admit it seemed a tad ritzier than Fifth Avenue, and so I felt out of place even more than I’d anticipated. Though nobody ran me out of their stores like in the famous movie, I still got scrutinizing looks that made me feel on edge.
I was so unnerved by it that I let Rowan tie a silk patterned Hermes scarf at my neck to match my black sweater because he said it would make me look chicer. “And keep people’s eyes off your homeless sneakers and on your adorable face.”
Ugh, even his backhanded compliments were becoming endearing.
“Can I help you?” a snobby store owner with red nails and bleach-blonde hair asked when I entered her boutique in front of Rowan. As if I might yank a ski mask out of my pocket and a handwritten note. I tugged at the scarf as if that would make a difference. Likely, I looked mismatched and ridiculous.
“Shae Shanahan is also with the Kendall Jacobs Show,” Rowan said, walking in behind me, and the woman’s eyes widened first in surprise and then in recognition.
“Of course, Mr. Abernathy.” She bustled forward to greet him. Seriously? “What can I help you with?”