by Donna Alward
He’d never been called that before. At least not in this job. He snorted a little at the idea and her lips curved in a smile, while the air in the car seemed to rise a good ten degrees.
They arrived at their destination, some trendy place in Hell’s Kitchen he’d never heard of, and once more he got out and held the door for her. “Thank you, Jacob,” she said smoothly, and the personal spark in her eye was gone. She was in full work mode again. And it got him thinking.
Once inside he did a quick perusal and then grabbed a stool at the bar while Charlotte met with the journalist. It seemed they already knew each other, and they settled into easy conversation over lunchtime drinks.
Jacob ordered iced water.
A while later, he saw Charlotte and the other woman ordering lunch, and he realized they were going to be here awhile. His tastes were simple, so he ordered something for himself, the simplest thing he could find on the menu that didn’t have a description four lines long. When it came, he settled the bill, not wanting to leave it to Charlotte. He’d simply expense it, with anything else required above his salary this week. He’d finished and was sipping on another glass of water when the meeting seemed to be winding up. It had been nearly two hours since they walked in the door.
Charlotte rose, retrieved her coat, and she and the other woman exchanged a cheek kiss before going on their way. All the while that serene, lovely smile was on Charlotte’s lips. Jacob got up from his stool and met her near the door. “Ready to go?”
“Yes. Back to the shows. There are two more I need to go to today.”
Two more? Jacob wouldn’t say it out loud, but he didn’t get fashion. No one he knew would be caught dead wearing any of those things in public.
“You’re the boss,” he said gamely, and took her elbow as they stepped out into the sunny but chilly February air.
Everything changed once they were back in the car, though. Charlotte wilted and closed her eyes as she leaned back against the seat. “Mon Dieu, that was exhausting.”
“You looked like you were having a nice time.” Jacob frowned. There’d been nothing but smiles during the interview.
“You think that was real? I mean, Lauralea is nice enough, and does a good job, but the whole time I was measuring every answer, considering my body language, making sure I didn’t get salad dressing on my blouse. Thank God there were no pictures today, which I thought there would be. But I did invite her to the Aurora party on Wednesday. She’ll bring a photographer, I’m sure.”
“You looked completely at ease,” he assured her, amazed.
“I’ve had years of practice.” She opened her small handbag and took out a protein bar. “I also ate about thirty calories worth of salad. I’m starving.”
He was going to say something about the morning pastries, but decided against it. No need bringing up that argument again. “If I’d known I’d have snuck out a takeaway bag,” he said, truly sorry it had been a tough few hours. “Let me know if you need me to next time. I had some sort of hanger steak thing that was delicious.”
Her stomach growled and she chuckled wearily. “It’s mean of you to bring it up.”
“Sorry.”
She ate the protein bar and then leaned her head back on the cushioned seat with a sigh.
“Are you really all right?”
She opened one eye and nodded. “Of course. With this kind of event, I’m ‘on’ all the time. Being in the car? It gives me a chance to regroup and recharge. And this week... It’s a little more hectic than my usual schedule.”
“Very nonstop,” he agreed. “You’re right to take some quiet time. In my experience, things go hinky when people get overtired and overwhelmed.”
“Like when?” She turned her head, looking genuinely interested.
“Well, there was one instance where my team was sent in to extricate three hostages. We got in just fine. But the three people we went in to rescue were so tired and had so much adrenaline running through them that they really kind of lost it.”
“What did you do?” She sat up now, her eyes alight with curiosity.
He grinned at her. “Threatened to shoot all three if they didn’t shut up and do what they were told.”
Her eyes widened. “And what happened?”
“They shut up.” When she laughed, he smiled. “Point being, you are not in a hostage situation, but you are in danger of being overtired or overstimulated, and so taking time to decompress is a smart thing to do.”
“So you really did all that Special Forces stuff?”
He nodded. “I really did it. For a lot of years. Until...” He hesitated, swallowed, unsure of why he wanted to share any part of himself with her but feeling the need to anyway. “I got injured, and my heart wasn’t in it anymore. So I retired.”
“There’s more to that story, isn’t there?”
A lump formed in his throat, another surprise. “There is.” But he didn’t want to go into that—he’d already blurred the line between professional and personal. He cleared his throat and asked, “What else is on the agenda today?”
Thankfully, she took the hint, and slid back into work mode. “A few more shows, then I have a meeting with the team from Paris who is putting together our show. We have had this planned for weeks, and I had a bit of a practice run in Paris last fall. I trust them to do their job and don’t want to overstep. I’m just there if they need anything.”
“Because you do PR.”
“Because I do PR. And because I have a decent handle on all areas of our business. It’s not just our designs on display. All the cosmetics are from Aurora’s new Naturel line, and the jewelry, as well.” She smiled. “Maman has built an empire.”
Jacob pondered that for a few moments. It had to be difficult to be Aurora Germain’s child. Aurora had accomplished so much, how could any of the children hope to compete or even just meet expectations?
He looked back at Charlotte. She’d leaned her head against the back of the seat again and closed her eyes. He wondered if she felt the heavy weight of expectation on her shoulders.
Before he could ask her, they were back at Spring Studios for the next round of shows. And as she opened her eyes, he saw the same determined set to her jaw as he had earlier this morning and before her interview.
Charlotte was putting on a show of her own. But how long could she keep it up?
CHAPTER FOUR
IT HAD BEEN a grueling day, Charlotte was still feeling the effects of jet lag, and the last thing she wanted to do was head to a party. But her absence would be noted, and she was determined to give this trip her all, so she took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, grateful for Jacob’s hand as she settled on her heels.
She hadn’t eaten enough today. Or at least, not since this morning and the sweet pastries, which had only given her a sugar crash later. Now it was nine o’clock and she had maybe three more hours of being “on” before she could go back home and fall into bed.
Jacob offered his elbow, his face unreadable. She was grateful for the support, to be honest. Perhaps it was inappropriate, considering his job, but he was someone to lean on for a few moments, and that was something she didn’t often have.
Often? More like never. Charlotte hadn’t had a relationship in three years, after a disastrous breakup with someone she’d imagined was Mr. Right. Mark had proved to be someone other than she thought. A climber, which she couldn’t fault. She had no problem with ambition. She did have a problem when people used other people to achieve it, though. She hadn’t realized he’d been using the same tactics on other women, too, until the gossip had reached her ears. His attempts at placating her and justifying his actions had made her angry as well as broke her heart.
She could count the actual dates she’d had since on one hand. Her twin brother, William, told her she worked too hard. She wasn’t sure he was wrong, but she also di
dn’t see another way. Her work? It never let her down.
Cameras flashed as they entered the Mandarin Oriental. She looked over at Jacob and saw that his jaw was set; she was sure he wasn’t used to the cameras and attention. Normally he’d be a few steps behind, in the background, wouldn’t he? And he could have been tonight, except he’d offered her his arm. Why?
Once inside they made their way to the party, and Charlotte let go of his arm. “Doing better?” he asked quietly.
“I was fine before,” she replied, but her heart fluttered a little. What had he noticed? And why?
“You’re exhausted.” He angled her a sideways look. “You’re jet-lagged and you’ve been going for well over twelve hours now on a handful of blintzes and a protein bar.”
She wasn’t sure if she should be touched or annoyed at his attention. “I didn’t realize that watching my dietary habits was part of your job description.”
He snorted. “It’s not. But I notice things anyway.” He looked into her eyes. “In my line of work, observation is key.”
“You’ll notice a lot tonight,” she said, her stomach in knots. “Tons of A-listers here. And there’s always Fashion Week drama.”
“As long as the drama doesn’t involve harming you, I’m good.”
Right. Because he was her bodyguard. The protective statement shouldn’t feel so comforting, but it did. Charlotte was very used to handling herself, and she knew she could. But she couldn’t deny it felt good having a wingman tonight. What he’d said earlier about exhaustion and feeling overwhelmed rang in her ears. Tonight she was both.
She was even happier to have his company when they entered the room that was already packed. Just inside the door, Jacob reached down and tugged on her hand. “I’m sticking close. And you should hydrate. You haven’t eaten enough today, but keeping hydrated will help.”
“I think I can manage,” she said, but knew he was right. She watched as he undid the button on his suit jacket. She was in a black dress, a straight column with simple lines, and a white band across the bodice—the Aurora brand colors. At her ears were the diamonds that her father had given her on her eighteenth birthday. Last fall she’d loaned them to Gabi Baresi, for the night that William proposed. Right now they kept Charlotte anchored. Cedric Pemberton had been a wonderful father and a steadying influence.
She fully expected to see some gorgeous and innovative wardrobe choices tonight. But for her... She wasn’t a model. She stuck with what Aurora did best: the red carpet look.
The noise was spectacular. She didn’t recognize the singer on stage. He was good, though loud enough one had to shout to talk at all. Within twenty steps she’d stopped six times to greet people with more excitement than she felt, while Jacob tried to keep a neutral expression. She saw him struggle when she introduced him as “my dear friend Jacob,” to a recent Oscar winner, who’d worn an Aurora gown to the awards the previous year.
He pressed a glass of water into her hands and took a drink of his own. “Hydrate,” he ordered again, and she obeyed, because the cold water tasted so good. But it wasn’t long before she had a champagne glass in her hand. Jacob stayed just behind her, at her hip, still drinking water. Probably because he was on duty.
But she was safe. She knew it. Those emails were nothing, and tonight’s party was invitation only. Right now her biggest enemy was fatigue and hunger. And she could make it a few hours.
“I’m going to the ladies’ room.” She leaned over and tilted her head up so he could hear her. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll come with you and wait by the door.”
She met his gaze and shook her head. “Please don’t. It’ll look as though you’re...possessive. Like you can’t let me go to the bathroom by myself. I promise I’m okay.”
“I’ll wait for you outside the ballroom doors, then.” He offered a compromise and she could live with it. “I can see anyone who goes in or out.”
“Jacob...”
“Indulge me, Charlotte. We don’t know who sent those emails.”
She sighed. “Fine.”
It was good to slip out of the crowd for a few moments and head to the slightly quieter ladies’ room. She locked herself in a stall and took three minutes to deep-breathe. There were others in the room, and their conversations came and went, and when Charlotte finally felt slightly restored, she flushed the unused toilet and unlocked the door.
At the mirrors she touched up her hair and lipstick, then let out a huge breath and prepared to face the party again.
Outside, wearing a broad smile, was Mark Church, holding two glasses of champagne.
She stopped. Tonight was the first time she’d thought of him in months, and now here he was. “Mark.”
“Hello, Charlotte.”
Oh, the way he said it was so warm and familiar. It made her remember the good times, but the memories were quickly tainted by the reminder of his betrayals. She’d been young and foolish, but trusting him had taught her a valuable lesson. So she smiled because it made sense to let bygones be bygones. “I didn’t realize you’d be here tonight.”
“I managed an invitation.”
Of course he had. That was how he operated. And now, some of his clients were the highest-paid models in the world. It burned that she had to maintain a cordial relationship, but the truth was, it was good for Aurora to not burn any bridges.
He offered her the glass of champagne. “How about a toast to old times?”
She took it and lifted an eyebrow. “I was twenty-two and very, very green,” she said, a veiled way of saying she’d been naive and foolish.
“Maybe we’re both older and wiser now?” He smiled his charming smile, and she smiled back. Politely. Thankfully, she felt nothing but regret and relief seeing him now. No lingering attraction, no pain. Just regret that she’d been so gullible and relieved that it was truly behind her. Now if she could just extricate herself gracefully...
She saw Jacob out of the corner of her eye and waved him off with a subtle flick of her hand. He paused, but his eyes never left them. Suddenly she was glad of it.
“Cheers,” Mark said, and touched the rim of his glass to hers.
She drank because not to would have been even more uncomfortable. The bubbles fizzed on her tongue and she swallowed, wondering if the alcohol would help her relax.
“I haven’t seen you since...” He frowned. “Since the charity event in London.”
“Three years,” she said, pasting on the smile that she’d worn all damn day.
“Amazing how we keep missing each other, in all that time.”
It wasn’t amazing at all. Charlotte generally stayed on her side of the Atlantic. And rekindling anything with Mark wasn’t on her agenda.
“Isn’t it?”
“You’re looking gorgeous. Even more beautiful than you were then. I take it that’s an Aurora design?”
“Of course.” She cradled the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t wear anything else.”
“It’s very timeless. I mean, your mother would look smashing in it.”
And there it was. The subtle little dig, the slight criticism that had always turned her off. “I’ll be sure to tell her you said so. Now if you’ll excuse me...”
She went to move away but he reached out and grabbed her wrist. They were close enough now she could smell the booze and knew he’d been drinking for a while, though he hid it well. A wave of revulsion rolled through her. She hadn’t forgotten that Mark Church was the kind of man who would say whatever he needed to get what he wanted.
“Let’s get out of here and go someplace quieter,” he suggested, his dark eyes meeting hers. “For old times’ sake.”
She pulled her wrist away just as she became aware of Jacob coming forward. “What a kind suggestion, but no thank you.”
He slid closer. “Come on, Charlotte. We were good to
gether. Let’s see how it—”
“Ah, there you are.” Jacob’s voice was measured and calm. “I wondered if you’d been held up.” His eyes smiled down into hers, and then she watched as he turned his icy gaze on Mark. “And you are?”
Mark, being the idiot he was, straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin, which still left him a few inches shorter than Jacob. “Mark Church.” He didn’t ask Jacob his name, which seemed totally in character.
“Nice to meet you. Charlotte, darling...” Charlotte nearly rolled her eyes at his deliberate overplay of “darling” in a very posh Londony type of accent. “Shall we get back?”
“Of course.” She was so grateful for the save.
They’d just started to move away when Mark stepped forward again. “Charlotte, remember what I said. We’re both in town all week.”
Gross. As if she’d hook up with him again after all this time. But she didn’t have to worry. Jacob let go of her hand and stepped up to Mark, face-to-face, and Charlotte wanted to laugh at the sheer difference in their physiques. Mark’s expression turned to one of childish defiance.
“Not cool, Mark. I’m standing right here. And I recall the lady saying no. That’s all it takes, right? No?”
“Sure, mate.” Mark replied in a fake accent that made him seem even more ridiculous.
Charlotte took Jacob’s hand again, so very grateful he was with her despite her protests that she didn’t need a bodyguard.
And when Mark muttered a word that equated Jacob to a particular piece of anatomy, Charlotte wasn’t so sure Jacob wouldn’t turn around.
Instead Jacob laughed and shook his head. “All booze and no brains,” he muttered. “And not worth it. Unless you want me to.”
“I don’t want a scene,” she said back. “But thank you, Jacob. I don’t think I need a bodyguard, but I’m awfully glad you were my wingman tonight.”
He stopped and faced her, and there was something different in his expression. Something softer and more personal.
“I know you said you were supposed to stay for a few hours, but you’re exhausted. Why don’t we go?”