CHAPTER TWO #2
That and branding, which we have nailed.
Partnering with Maison is a big deal.
Having the theft of my diamonds in the media threatened to destroy the entire relationship, but fortunately their PR consultant saw it as a good thing.
“No such thing as bad press,” he’d said at the end of a tense meeting. “I think we should proceed. Obviously, we will increase security at the Maison Diamond Luxe Lips & Lash launch, but otherwise, the increased engagement online is a positive in my opinion.”
My insurance company felt differently, but I stayed quiet.
When the CEO of Maison agreed, I let out a sigh of relief.
“That was awesome.” I grab a tissue and wipe off the layers of lip gloss.
“Seventy-five thousand,” Sadie reports on the numbers. “Three hundred and twenty comments so far. I’ll draw the competition tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks, Sadie. Did the colors look okay on screen?” I toss the tissue into the trash and grab my water bottle, guzzling it.
Every screen is different, so it’s super hard to control what colors look like, but I ask almost every time.
“Yes, but,” Sadie says, tilting her head. “I still think we should add a filter to make them pop more.”
This is such a sensitive topic for me. The team at Blush Empire agreed with Sadie, but I don’t want to deceive my customers.
The colors speak for themselves.
“Our competitors do it, Tiff.”
“I know, but I also know they get a ton of returns because people aren’t happy, and that tells us everything we need to know.” I shrug.
She turns back to the keyboard and starts tapping. “Yeah, I know. It did look awesome today.”
Sadie has worked for me for two years and is the best assistant in the world. She’s always one step ahead of me and tells me the truth.
I glance at the clock on the wall. “Shit, I have this bodyguard coming over soon. I need to get changed.”
“You look fine.” Sadie chuckles.
We both know that’s a lie. I might be all business on top for the camera, but like any media savvy person, I’m all comfort on the bottom half of my body. Today I’m wearing a pair of cutoff denim shorts which look ridiculous with my shimmering olive halter top.
Sadie doesn’t care—some days I’m in pajama bottoms. I try not to make a habit of that, just for the record.
Anyway, if I want this guard’s respect, I need to present myself as a normal human being. He’ll know who I am—Stallone’s daughter. I don’t want him to think that I’m just some trust fund baby with an alternative dress sense and no common sense.
They exist, trust me.
And employees who work for the rich and famous have opinions. I’ve overheard them. People underestimate kids. I was listening and watching their eye rolls since I was knee high.
I usually don’t care all that much, but whoever this new bodyguard is, he or she will be privy to the police records from my break-in, including details on the stolen items.
Including my lingerie and sex toys.
Great.
I have to spend every day with this person and their judgy points of view.
God, I hope it’s a girl.
Maybe we can laugh about it.
“I’ll just put on a sundress,” I stand, glancing down at my bare legs and wish I’d shaved. “Thanks for all your hard work today, Sade’s.”
“I love my job,” she holds up one of the gloss samples that she’s taking home with her. Pushing away from her desk, Sadie tucks her laptop into her bag and stands. “Good luck with the security person, hope they’re at least a little cool if they’re going to be following us around for a while.”
Following us around.
That’s what it looks like, but I’ve seen them intercept enough potential threats to my father to have big respect for what they do.
I follow her through my spacious mansion, and just as we reach the lobby, where I planned to say goodbye and run upstairs to change, a beep from my security system announces I have a guest.
Shit.
Sadie turns and fights her laugh. “Oh no. But at least you’re not wearing your alien PJs.”
“Hey, those little green men keep the real ones away.” I tug open the hall closet and find an old raincoat hanging in there.
I pull it on.
“Now you do look ridiculous,” Sadie frowns.
That might be so, but here’s the thing. I have a very generous set of breasts and right now they’re showing off a lot of cleavage. I’m not sitting in front of my new bodyguard—whether a man or woman—in my skimpy pajama shorts and a top that’s more suited to a club.
Goddamn it. Five more minutes and I could have tugged on a dress.
“I don’t care, at least these girls are covered up.” I shoo her away. “Go, go. I need to find some shoes.”
Sadie slips through the front door, giggling, and I quickly push the button to open the gate for both her and my visitor, then search for some shoes.
Spotting a pair of pink Havana flip flops, I slide my feet into them and then narrow my eyes at the sunhat I left on the side table this morning.
I glance quickly outside and my jaw drops open when I see the tall, broad man walking towards the house.
Holy hell.
Is that my new bodyguard?
He’s gorgeous.
The confidence rolling off his wide shoulders has my ovaries sitting up to attention, and a few of my brain cells dissolve.
It’s the only explanation I have for what I do next.
I grab the sunhat, put it on, and reach for the handle as the walking Adonis knocks on my door.
A quick mental audit reminds me I’m now wearing a pair of denim cutoffs, pink flip-flops, a raincoat, and a straw sun hat.
Great, I look like a showgirl. One who’s missing a diamond necklace, a pair of underwear and a dildo...and this man knows it.
Knock, knock, knock.
I lock a smile in place and pull open the door.
“Hello—”
Oh shit. He’s even more handsome than I first thought. Deep blue eyes, strong cheekbones, and long, thick lashes meet mine.
“Jayden Rogers,” he says firmly, holding out a hand for me to shake as his gaze runs down the length of my comically clad body.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when his brows bunch as I take his hand. Those stunning eyes snap back up to mine, controlled and intense as I swallow deeply.
Holy hell, I’ve seen a lot of sexy men in my life, living in Hollywood and surrounded by leading men, but no one has taken my breath away like he just has.
Remember, he knows about the sex toys.
Oh, dear God.
I snap out of it and finally speak. “Hello. Tiffany Stallone. Nice to meet you. Come in.”
Stepping back, I watch as he crosses the threshold, and after one last glance, Jayden begins to survey the interior of my home.
He’s former military, without a doubt. Which I was expecting. Black Hawke Security promoted its services as paramilitary and claims to be the best of the best.
I bet Jayden knows exactly what he’s doing at work...and in the bedroom.
Filthy—deliciously filthy—images fill my mind, and I’m grateful his back is to me. I’m sure my face shows my every thought.
“Thank you.” I follow him as he wanders further into the lobby, then half turns to let me pass.
We continue into the living room. He doesn’t comment on my home or the beautiful décor. Most people do, but it would be inappropriate for him to do so, and I’m glad he hasn’t.
Likely, he thinks my father paid for it.
I hate that he’s right.
For now.
“What can I get you to drink?” I ask and spot my housekeeper, Terese, who stands near the doorway. She comes for a few hours twice a week.
“Water is fine,” Jayden says, and I can’t help but feel he’s taken up all the oxygen in the room. He’s six feet four inches at least and has dark blond hair, and to make matters even worse, he has a goddamn southern accent.
Oh, my ovaries.
“Water for both of us, please, Terese.” I smile, and she heads off to get our drinks. I sit in a striped navy armchair and indicate that he should do the same. “Texas?”
“Yes, ma’am. Fort Worth,” he answers with a twang and grin.
“I’m not old enough to be called ma’am. Yet.” I faux gasp and thank Terese when she returns with our drinks.
Jayden clears his throat after taking a sip and places it carefully on the side table. Then his eyes lift to mine. “Were you not expecting me?”
I place my hand on my sunhat and press it firmly in place. “Yes. Why?”
I can almost read his mind. Do you always wear some absurd outfits while walking around your house?
I decide to distract him with a smile. One I’ve been practicing all my life for the cameras. One dad taught me where I let my eyes crease.
A smile starts in your eyes, Tiffany. If you want to be believed, on or off screen, remember your eyes.
Rather than respond with a smile of his own, Jayden has a gruff dominance where he holds his own space. I feel a shiver run through me. In a world of fake everything in this town, I’m so charmed by this southern man.
I bet he has a girlfriend.
My eyes dip to his hand.
No ring...no wife.
I shouldn’t be so happy. This man is working for me. Or at least being paid to be here.
This isn’t a date, Tiffany, for crying out loud.
I might have a history of being attracted to some of my bodyguards, but that’s a whole other story. One I don’t intend to repeat.
“Ah—” Jayden starts.
I lean back in my chair, relaxing, and cross my legs. One of my pink flip-flops catches my eye as two of the buttons on the raincoat pop open. Glancing down, I see my thighs completely exposed.
Shit.
Jayden shuffles to the edge of his seat as I rush to cover myself.
“Ms. Stallone—” he curses. “Are you naked under that raincoat?”
Oh, my God.
“What?” My face burns red. “No!”