13. Chapter Thirteen - Reed
Reed
I look at the woman snoozing in my lap. Her hair falls on her face softly as she leans against my shoulder, still catching her breath after coming for the third time today. We’d come inside when the night air turned just a little too cold to relax outside in just our bathrobes, keeping the door ajar as we huddled together under her sheets, so closely that not even a sheet of paper would fit between the two of us.
She fell asleep quickly, but I can’t quite relax, not only because we’re waiting on room service to bring us a pretty late dinner. What can I say, we were a little preoccupied before.
No, it’s because thoughts keep rushing through my head, and I can’t get them in order.
My phone starts to buzz in my jeans, flung somewhere in the room, and I let out a deep sigh, pressing a kiss against Abby’s disheveled hair, before I carefully free myself from the sheets and try to find it. Turns out, carelessly kicking your jeans off can make them fly all the way behind armchairs. Who knew?
So I kneel down and fish the phone out of my pocket, breathing out a deep sigh when I see Adam’s name on the screen. Closing my eyes for a moment, I lean the phone against my forehead.
Do I really want to answer that? I’ve had such a great day, and I just know Adam will somehow manage to bring it down.
Then again, he’s not only my brother but also my boss. So I get up with a groan and pull on the bathrobe again, deciding to take the call on the balcony to not wake up Abby.
“Hi, Adam. What’s up?” I greet him in a whisper, grimacing when the door squeaks as I pull it close behind me.
“You never called after the photoshoot,” he says accusingly. I take a deep breath as I slide down on one of the chairs, putting my feet on the other one, leaning my head back to watch the blinking lights of a plane making its way over Paris.
“Hi, Adam,” I repeat with more emphasis. “Let’s try this again, shall we? This time with manners?”
“Are you for—”
“Oh, I’m very much for real. You’re the one who taught me manners, so go on, be a good example.”
I know teasing him might get me into hot water, but then again, who am I to tolerate him speaking to me like that? I mean, this kind of behavior is exactly what’s getting that Constance chick on my blocklist.
“Hello, Reed,” he grits out and I nod, happy with myself.
“When I wanted to call you, it was already the middle of the night in your time,” I say pointedly, noting that I’m taking his call close to midnight while he’s always preaching for me to get enough sleep. “But I was going to call you once I’m back.”
“Well, I’m talking to you now. Did anything happen?”
“Please put her on my ‘never again’ list. She was really fucking rude.”
“That explains why Dimitri is already feeling so much better,” he mutters, and I narrow my eyes, now turning my gaze to a lit window on the other side of the street. Looks like a couple is arguing in there.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, but I put him on time out for two more weeks so he can ‘heal properly.’ Now, is there anything else you want to tell me?” He sounds like he knows something I don’t.
“No. Should I?”
“Maybe about a certain brunette you were spotted with today?”
My heart sinks. Fuck. Memories of today shoot through my head, heart thundering in my chest. Please tell me they didn’t catch us in the car. Teasing about it is one thing, but I checked. The car windows were tinted so darkly there’s no way anyone could have looked in from the side and we should have been good from the rear and front window.
“I got some pictures of you two walking through some kind of garden,” he continues and I deflate at once as relief washes over me.
“Oh thank fucking God,” I mutter, freezing when I realize I said it out loud.
“So?”
“So, she’s a new… friend,” I explain, angry at myself that I let my guard down. My sunglasses have protected me from getting recognized so often, I forget they don’t make me as invisible as Clark Kent’s glasses do.
“A friend?” he asks skeptical and I roll my eyes. “Really? You two look awfully friendly for just ‘friends.’”
“Adam, I say this with all due respect, but it’s none of your business. If I introduce her to you as ‘friend,’ that’s what she is.”
“But—”
“No ‘but,’” I continue, annoyance burning in my chest. “You keep behaving like my boss, not my brother, so I’m treating you like one. And it’s definitely not my boss’ business who I’m friends with, who I’m dating or who I’m sleeping with, as long as it doesn’t turn into a scandal. Will this turn into a scandal?”
“I don’t think so, because nobody knows who she is, but—”
“Well, keep it that way.”
“What’s going on, Reed?” Adam sounds angry, and I’m not surprised. He’s used to getting his way, but after he keeps going back on his word, I’m just done.
“Consequences. That’s what’s going on. You send me here for a last minute walk under the guise of a week off afterwards, but I arrive here under the worst fucking circumstances, no ‘thank you’ or ‘sorry your trip was rough,’ just ‘well have fun.’ And then you go back on your word and book me for a photoshoot you send me no briefing for, for a fucking horrible designer that treats models like ‘how much can we insult him?’ voodoo dolls and now you’re calling again, can’t even say ‘hello’ and I swear to God, if it’s because you’re trying to make me do more work here, I quit.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a fucking heart attack.” I take a deep breath, glancing inside to check if my little outburst woke Abby up. Thankfully, she’s still sound asleep, her hair falling over her face and the sheets draped over her rising and falling with each breath.
“Good to know,” Adam says without any emotion after a minute of awkward silence. “Have a good evening, Reed.”
Before I can answer, he’s cut the call. And it tells me everything I need to know. Mainly, that he did indeed call to get me to take on another last-minute job.
But I have better things to do.
If I only have a few more days with Abby, I’m making the best of it. Which includes a whole lot of time right here, in her room, and not another stressful fashion show or photoshoot.
I get up and make my way inside, grimacing when I see her stir.
“Did I fall asleep?” she mumbles, blinking up at me, and I sit down on the mattress, reaching out to wipe several strands of hair out of her face and tuck them behind her ear.
“Only for a few minutes,” I tell her, grinning when she nudges her face into my palm like a cat. “Room service hasn’t been in yet.
“Oh, that’s good.” She shoots me a lazy grin. “Nothing worse than cold room service food.”
Just in the moment, there’s a knock on her door.
“I got it,” I assure her, and jump up as she slowly climbs out from under the sheets. Damn. I absolutely made the right decision. There is nowhere else I’d rather spend my time than with her.