Chapter 39 Sienna
THIRTY-NINE
SIENNA
Before I’ve even seen the place, I consider turning around and going home.
But as I step into the lobby of the Londoner, I keep my head high and my shoulders back.
I’m Sienna Fucking Langfield. Not the Sienna Langfield who used to blush when men would flirt, and not the Sienna Langfield whose life was recently in shambles.
Tonight, dressed in a curve-hugging black dress and a pair of red-bottomed stilettos, I’m the Sienna Langfield who lived in Paris for five years.
The woman who had sex in public in the Bahamas with a man I barely knew.
The woman others would kill to take the place of.
The woman men would kill to have on their arm.
With that mantra playing in my mind, I stride across the marble floor like I belong.
Inside, I’m a big ball of nerves, seriously freaked out about what I might be in for.
I spot Cat immediately. Her long dark hair is pulled back and twisted up into a braided bun. Her black leather pants are tight and her bustier top is practically see-through. Her lips are painted a deep red and curled up in a wicked grin as she wiggles her fingers in greeting.
“You are the hardest woman to nail down,” she teases.
“Once again, your ability to make any phrase sexual astounds me.”
She leans in and kisses my left cheek, then my right. “Please, you are so not my type.”
“Rude.”
She loops her arm through mine and guides me toward a host stand at one end of the lobby. The blond man stationed there is dressed in an expensive black suit and wearing an earpiece. Behind him, crushed velvet curtains flank a lacquered black door.
As we approach, the man nods once. “Mrs. B.”
“Evening, Lars. I’ve got a guest tonight. Put her under Ms. P.”
I side-eye my friend. What’s with all the cloak-and-dagger shit?
She only smirks at me.
The man taps at the iPad on the host stand, and the machine beside it lights up. It beeps quietly, then pushes out a black and gold card.
He hands it to her, and after she’s taken it, she surveys me, tapping it against her lips. “This is your play card.”
“My play card?” I parrot.
With a smirk, she leads me toward the curtains.
Though before she pushes through, she tips the card in my direction.
“Men aren’t allowed to approach women here.
We hold all the cards. Literally.” She grins.
“So if you see someone you’re interested in, hand them the card.
If they want to play, they’ll accept, and off you go to the room designated for that card. ”
My insides war, half intrigued and half terrified. Though when I consider just how many people have probably used those rooms—
She glares at me as if she can read my thoughts. “Don’t judge.”
I wince. “You’re right. But the card’s not necessary. I’m just here to have a drink with my friend.”
She hums. “So long as you keep an open mind.”
I nod, and she waves her hand through the curtain, parting it easily.
She waits for me to go first, and what I find inside is completely unexpected.
The black walls with gold teardrops catch my attention first. The design makes it look as though the gold really is liquid.
Like it’s melting down the walls. As my eyes adjust to the burgundy lighting, I catalog the pair of booths in each corner.
Cat grasps me by the elbow and leads me deeper into the room, but not before I catch sight of a woman with her top off in one booth. And is that a man between her legs?
“Holy shit,” I mutter.
“You promised no judging.”
“I didn’t think I’d have a front-row seat to an orgy,” I hiss.
She drags me to the black lacquered bar and gestures for me to sit on one of the golden tufted stools. The wall ahead of us is lit up and stocked with dozens of bottles of liquor. In the middle, what looks like a cauldron bubbles.
“If you put a spell on me, I’m out,” I mutter.
She lets out a loud, raspy laugh.
At the sound, the female bartender looks our way, and her eyes light up with recognition. “Mrs. B, good to see you.”
Cat orders two extra dirty martinis, and once our drinks have been served, she turns to me, all business. “Sophie is retiring.”
I frown. “Why?”
Sophie and Cat started as interns at Jolie at the same time, and for the last several years, Cat has been editor-in-chief of the exclusive magazine and Sophie has been the creative director.
It’s one of the most coveted roles in the entire fashion industry.
While Cat’s simple nod toward a design could make a designer’s career, she won’t even see the design unless Sophie thinks it’s worth her time. She’s the visionary.
“Her husband is several years older than she is. He wants to retire, and she wants to enjoy his retirement.” She shrugs. “I’ll miss her tremendously, obviously, but Dex deserves his wife’s attention. I’ve been stealing it for decades now.”
I smile. Theirs is a friendship to truly admire. “Good for her, then.”
Cat drags her martini stick through her drink, then lifts it to her mouth and slides one olive off with her teeth. “This is when you ask me what any of that has to do with you.”
I dip my chin. “Well, yeah. What does this have to do with me?”
She sips her drink, then takes my hands in hers. “I want you to be Jolie’s next creative director.”
My breath catches in my throat. When I can breathe again, I squeeze her hands. “Are you out of your mind?” She has to be. I’ve never worked for a magazine. Hell, the closest I’ve come is reading the damn thing on the couch each month.
She takes another sip, her expression calculating. “No, I’m brilliant. We’ve been over this. If I believe you’re the right person for the creative director position, then it’s fact.”
I sigh. “I appreciate all the faith you have in me, but you’re wrong about this. This is your magazine. The fashion magazine of our generation. Of our grandmothers’ generation. It’s the bright beacon to which all designers look in order to determine what comes next.”
Her expression turns to one of pride. One of pure arrogance, really.
“Exactly. And with you as creative director, a woman I’ve watched break rules and push boundaries and twist designs in a way that even has me blinking and then thinking Oh, okay, that more than works; that’s incredible, imagine all the amazing things we could do. ”
I lean back in my chair. Holy shit. This isn’t the kind of offer a person says no to.
But how the hell can I say yes? This is so far beyond even the biggest dreams I had for myself before my life fell apart.
And yet my dreams keep changing. And as I let the idea marinate, a hunger I haven’t felt in two years flares to life.
“You love it,” she says, her smile wide. “You love it and you want to say yes.”
I lower my focus to the bar to hide my smile. “I didn’t say that.”
“But you didn’t say no.”
A scoff escapes me. “Who the hell says no to you?”
Both she and the bartender laugh.
“No one who knows what’s good for them,” a deep voice says.
Jay Hanson appears on Cat’s other side, looming over her and laying an indecent kiss on her lips.
Jay is gorgeous, with dirty blond hair that always looks as if he or Cat has recently run a hand through it.
He’s tall and broad, his icy blue eyes extra bright against his crisp blue shirt.
The chiseled jawline covered in a light scruff is in complete juxtaposition to the puffy lips that any woman would kill to have, yet they work together perfectly.
He bites her lip, then sucks it into his mouth without an ounce of concern about who’s watching.
I flush with heat, torn between gawking and looking away. They’re always like this, so I should be used to it by now. Still, when two of the most gorgeous people I know make out in front of me, it’s nearly impossible not to get hot and bothered.
“Hi, Sienna.” He stands at his full height, though he doesn’t take his eyes off his wife. “Did my kitten fill you in on her wonderful idea?”
Oh, and he calls her kitten. It’s nauseatingly adorable, considering they’ve been married for years.
“Yes,” Cat says. “And she’s taking it under consideration, right?” She eyes me, swiping at her mouth, fixing the lipstick Jay smudged.
He watches her, his teeth sunken into his own lip, like he likes that she marked him.
“Right.” With a sigh, I pick up my glass and tip it back.
“Then we’re all done here.” Cat stands and takes Jay’s outstretched hand. She leans in and kisses my cheek, this time hovering for a moment to whisper in my ear. “Stay awhile. Maybe use the card.”
She pulls back, and as I turn to tell her I’m all set, my attention snags on a man standing behind Jay, a man I hadn’t noticed until now, and my heart thuds heavily.
Garreth Hanson.