Hello (Dressing A Billionaire #1)

by Jamie Lee Scott

  Her boobs stood up on their own, no bra required. Definitely bought and paid for.

  Chapter 13

  With fifteen minutes to spare, I pressed the button on the gate to Hugo’s property. I drove along the road to the house, butterflies in my stomach. I hadn’t been this nervous the last time I’d been here, but this time felt different. It felt like do or die.

  Not only did I have to impress Hugo, but Stella would be judging, too. She’d liked my choice in dresses, so hopefully she’d like my choice in tuxedo. I knew the suit would have to be tailored, but I didn’t know if one would be on site. I’d love to see Hugo dressed in the finished product, because I knew the colors would make his eyes stand out. Not that they didn’t do it on their own, but this color would accent them well.

  A dozen cars sprinkled across the landscape let me know they’d be working. Would Hugo step away to try on the clothes? How much sway did Stella have?

  Parking as close to the front door as possible, I didn’t see Stella’s car anywhere. Great.

  Getting out to open the back of the SUV, I grabbed the garment bags and tossed them over one shoulder, while I reached back into the car to get the boxes.

  “I’ll get that,” Bobby said.

  I jumped almost a foot in the air and screamed. “Shit!”

  Bobby looked at the bags I’d dropped to the ground. “And I’ll get those, too.” He bent over and picked everything up.

  Bobby loomed over me, standing well over six-feet tall, and I guessed weighed two-fifty or more. I’d bet he could pick me up, too, and not be the least bit taxed by the weight. He had the same proclivity for facial hair Hugo had, only he kept his beard trimmed short. I wondered if I’d have to stop waxing my upper lip if I wanted to work for Hugo. Or maybe glue on some sideburns.

  “I’m sorry, but you scared the crap out of me.” I reached into the car to grab the boxes while he picked the stuff off the ground. “I’ve got the rest of this.”

  “As you wish.” He stood by and closed the hatch after I grabbed the last item.

  He walked in front of me, his long strides making me almost jog to keep up with him. Timmy opened the door for us and said, “I’ll take that.”

  He relieved me of my packages and turned to walk upstairs.

  I looked through the foyer into the dining room and saw several people milling around.

  “Is Hugo working?” I asked.

  “Follow me,” Timmy answered. I didn’t think he cared for me much.

  I followed him up the stairs and saw at least ten people working in the office. The blackout blinds had been drawn, and everyone stared at computer screens.

  Timmy and Bobby went straight to Hugo’s bedroom, so I did, too.

  “It’s about time,” Stella said as she jumped up from Hugo’s bed. “I thought you’d never arrive.”

  I pulled my phone from my pocket to look at the time. “I’m early.”

  “I know, but I was anxious.” She tore into the garment bags. “And now I’m not so anxious anymore. This is everything?”

  “Yes,” I walked over to the bed to organize the clothes in the order I wanted them tried on.

  “This is it?” Stella opened another bag.

  Confused, I said, “You just asked me to get him a tuxedo for the gala. I bought a few extras because he asked me to.”

  “Oh, I know. And I thought you’d go crazy and buy him the wardrobe he so desperately needs.” She pulled the Gucci shoes from the bag. “I’d planned a T-shirt and shorts bonfire for tonight. I’m so disappointed.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell if she was being serious. I stopped arranging everything, because she kept picking things up and setting them down in a pile. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I was afraid to overwhelm Hugo and cause a meltdown. Then you’d have to find another date for the gala.”

  In flamboyant Stella fashion, she waved her arms around and said, “Touché. But my brother would be my date even if I had to embalm him and push him in on a dolly.” She grabbed the Tod’s box. “But I will tell you this, there will be a bonfire.”

  “Over my dead body,” Hugo said as he entered the room.

  The only thing that looked different from the last time I saw him: Audrey Hepburn graced his T-shirt.

  “That can be arranged. And I can throw it on top of the massive bonfire.” Stella put the BrunelloCucinelli shirt up against her front and said. “If she keeps this up, I’ll be burning sooner than expected.” She tossed the shirt at Hugo.

  He held it by the hanger at arm's length. “Nice.”

  “I have several items, but I’d like your tailor to be here when you try on the suit.” This would be a disaster without a proper fitting.

  “Stanley was right behind me.” Hugo looked back to the bedroom door.

  “I’m here,” said the dwarf standing behind Hugo.

  Stanley wore a lavender silk shirt, sleeves rolled up, and gray slacks. His salt and pepper hair in need of a trim, but not unruly, looked handsome. I couldn’t see his eyes, because he didn’t look up at me.

  I blushed at my faux pas. I didn’t expect a dwarf to be their tailor, and I hadn’t looked down to see him entering with Hugo. I shouldn’t have missed his entrance, except he stood almost directly behind Hugo, his tiny shadow.

  I’d never met a dwarf in real life, so I was knocked off balance for a second, before recognizing he wasn’t any different than the rest of us. Except maybe me. I felt out of place in this realm.

  “Stan, this is my stylist, Maisy.” Hugo practically shoved Stan toward me.

  Stan looked at the floor. “Nice to meet you.”

  Stella jumped in. “Let’s get this party started. I have places to be.”

  “Then go. I don’t want you here anyway. I don’t even want to be here. I have a product launch that’s more important than this.”

  Stella flopped down on the bed. “Get over yourself, the pre-sales were enough to pay for the launch and your entire staff for the next five years. It even covers my draw.”

  I looked at Hugo, waiting to see if we’d be standing in the middle of a sibling fight.

  “It doesn’t mean I want problems. One glitch and this version is doomed.”

  “Glitch smitch, you don’t need the money.” She sat up. “But, I know, your employees do.”

  Hugo nodded and handed the shirt to Stan. “So, Stan, where do you want to start?”

  Stan looked up at him, no longer shy. “Do you want this fitted or loose?”

  “Fitted,” I said, at the same time Hugo said, “Loose.”

  “Fitted it is,” Stella said.

  Hugo glared at her. “I thought you had someplace to be? Maybe you could get there, like, now.”

  “Good try. But, I won this bet, not you. I’m basking in the glory.”

  She opened the bag with the Apple Watch and laughed. “Oh, no!”

  We all turned to look at her.

  “Maisy apparently doesn’t know what your next product launch is.” She dangled the box.

  The blood drained from my torso, making my legs feel heavy, and my heart ache. I’d somehow made a grave mistake.

  Hugo smiled, then started laughing. His laugh became more animated, and finally Stella joined him. Stan and I looked at each other, not in on the joke.

  I waited, and gradually my blood circulated normally again, though I feared my mistake to be my undoing.

  When Hugo’s body stopped shaking from laughing, he said, “Our product launch is a multipurpose watch to rival the Apple Watch.”

  I blushed, though not sure why I felt embarrassed, because I had no idea.

  Stella added, “It’s a gamer’s watch. Does everything the Apple Watch does, but it also integrates with gaming stations.”

  Not being a gamer, this went so over my head. “Okay.”

  Stan’s mouth dropped open, “Really? When is the product release? I’m so there.”

  “Everyone will be signing non-disclosures before they leave the ho
use.” Hugo pulled his tee off over his head. “Now let’s get this over with.”

  Ready to move on, I took the shirt from Stan and unbuttoned it.

  As delicious as Hugo’s bare torso looked, the BrunelloCucinelli shirt looked divine covering it.

  “You’ll need to wear a white undershirt, and I’m not talking a graphic tee either,” Stan said. “But this already fits really well.” He stood behind Hugo and pulled at the fabric. “I’ll take it in a bit here.”

  Stan reached into his black bag and pulled out a wrist pincushion. He folded and pinned the fabric as I looked to see where he’d pulled it from.

  The suit pants came next, and then the jacket. Stan worked diligently and didn’t speak to anyone but Hugo. He even ignored Stella’s constant babble.

  “I can see your nipples, Hugo. Is that fabric doing it for you? Or is your body just happy to be wearing something other than a cheap cotton blend.” She’d gotten off the bed and walked circles around Hugo and Stan.

  Watching her made me dizzy. I looked away several times, just to get my bearings.

  “What about the color?” I asked.

  “Fabulous,” Stella cooed. “Simply fab. Hugo, you need to see yourself in a mirror.” Then she waved the thought away. “No, never mind, you still have that gawd-awful facial hair.”

  Hugo flipped her his middle finger.

  They fought like Bruce and I fought. I chuckled to myself.

  Once Stan finished measuring, marking, and pinning, I placed the Bugachi Arezzo wingtips down for Hugo to step into. Stan would need it for hemming the slacks.

  Stella jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “I love it. So stylish, and yet so not.”

  My breath caught in my throat. Not stylish? What did she mean? And should I ask? I couldn’t not ask. “You don’t think the suit is stylish?”

  Hugo glared at Stella.

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Not the suit, the man.” She reached out and tugged at his beard. “I mean, look at this, it ruins the entire look.”

  Hugo reached out to grab Stella. “Aw, fuck.” He snatched his arm back.

  Stan said, “Yeah, there are pins in your sleeves.”

  “No, shit,” Hugo winced.

  Stella stopped laughing. “Are you okay, little brother?” Her concern mocking.

  “Go away,” Hugo said. “You’re getting on my nerves.”

  “That’s my job as a sister.” She air-hugged Hugo.

  He didn’t dare move after the last stabbing.

  Stan hemmed the pants, then stood back to admire his work. “Divine.”

  “You think?” Hugo’s question genuine.

  “I’ve never seen you look better, young man. Though you’ll look even better when we have this worn right side out and tailored.” Stan marveled at his work. “And Maisy, great taste in suits. This is just different enough to stand out without being garish. It’s perfect for Hugo. Especially if he’s going with Stella.”

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling all warm and fuzzy. The first real compliment.

  “I have the perfect dress, you have the perfect suit. I’d say I’m a very good judge of character, wouldn’t you, brother?” Stella winked at Hugo.

  I could see a short exchange of twin mental telepathy going on and looked away.

  “Can I take it off now?” Hugo asked.

  Stan helped him out of the jacket.

  “Okay children, my admirers await, I must be on my way,” Stella said. “I’ll be back tonight for dinner.”

  Hugo yelled after her as she left the room. “You need to be here, Stella. We have way too much to do for you to take the entire day off.”

  Not another word from her as she disappeared down the hall.

  Stan helped Hugo out of the suit. “I’ll have this back to you in two days.”

  “That’s fine. I don’t need it till Friday.”

  Stan placed the suit in its bags and left without another word.

  “Chatty, isn’t he?” I said.

  Hugo stood a few feet from me, dressed only in his underwear once again. “He’s shy.”

  I cocked my right brow. “You think?”

  “I’m beginning to think you plan these moments, seeing me in my underwear.” Hugo walked to the bed.

  I blushed, but said, “One of the perks of the job.”

  He smiled. Picking up the boxes and bags off the bed, he scavenged through them, but didn’t show an immediate interest in trying anything on.

  “You have to try these on, no matter what.” I handed him the ECCO slip-ons.

  He grimaced.

  “Just try them.”

  He slipped his feet in and wiggled them around. “Wow, comfortable.”

  “And only ninety dollars,” I had to share the price.

  He looked up at me. “You know I don’t care how much you spent, right?”

  “Considering the high-end shoes you wear now? I wasn’t sure.”

  He playfully kicked at me, and I feigned a punch at his ribcage. When he flexed automatically as a reaction, I melted. The abs on Hugo amazed me. He made Miles look like a wimp. Maybe Miles had been a wimp. Too wimpy to reject the temptation.

  I wanted to spend more time with him so I showed him the jeans and Philipp Plein tee to see if he’d change his mind. And it worked.

  He spread them out on the bed, then picked up the Denham Cross jeans.

  Watching him step into them, and pull them up over his hips,a wave of disappointment swept through me, as he covered his assets. But then he turned around, and I saw how well they fit.

  “Yummy,” I said.

  “What?” Hugo turned back around.

  Holy shit, did I say that out loud? “Tummy, your tummy, or lack thereof, looks good in those. Are you a runner or something?”

  “More of a cross-training kind of guy. I run, box, lift weights, bike. I change it up a lot, so I don't get bored.”

  “I need to find time to get back in shape. I used to run, but then I got busy. Now it’s a matter of getting started again. Not an easy task.”

  “I can help you with that. I love helping others get fit. Look at Bobby. He almost died of a heart attack two years ago, then he decided he wanted to live. I helped him learn to live better.”

  “He’s so tall and trim, he had heart issues?”

  “He had big health issues. No exercise, didn’t eat well. I brought him into my regime, and within a year his numbers were good, he’d quit his medications for blood pressure and depression. We run together almost every day. You can join us.”

  I almost fell over laughing. “I’d be a hindrance. I’m lucky to break into a jog at this point.”

  “The offer is good if you’re interested down the line. And I can help you get better and faster.” He slapped the bare skin of his belly. “It’s great for your abs.”

  I think I may have moaned.

  “You’re in?”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said, noncommittally, then grabbed the belt loop of his jeans and turned him around.

  “You like the fit?” he asked.

  “I like,” I said.

  “I like, too. Thanks.”

  I cleared my throat, trying to clear my mind at the same time. “Oh, I have something I wanted to make sure you liked.”

  I reached into my purse and pulled out a small box. I handed it to him, hoping he’d approve.

  “Maisy Tucker, are you proposing to me?” He took the box.

  I laughed. “Hugo Popovits, that’s very forward, I barely know you.”

  “Maybe it’s better that way. Apparently, I’m not much of a catch after you’ve known me long enough.” He opened the box and stopped talking. He closed the box instantly.

  “Don’t you like them?” I’d been so excited for him to see them.

  “They’re fine.” He sat the box on the bed, then sat down next to it and unfastened the jeans, peeling them off.

  “No, I don’t want them to be fine. I want them to be perfect.” My resolve
cracked, I thought he’d love them.

  “Thing is, they look very similar to the engagement ring I gave my ex-girlfriend.” He folded the jeans and put them on the bed.

  “Your ex-fiance?” How could I have messed up so bad? But again, how could I have known? “I’m so sorry, I’ll take them back.”

  “Ex-girlfriend. She said no, then left me.” He grabbed his shorts and shirt and stood. “But that’s ancient history.”

  “I’ll take them back and get something else. It’s no problem.” I reached out to snatch the box.

  Hugo reached out at the same time, and his hand landed on mine. The warmth and glow I felt couldn’t be described. His grip gentle, but firm. I felt a rush go through my body. I wanted so badly not to want him, but when he touched me, I knew.I wanted to take the clothes from his hands, strip down his boxer briefs, and take him right there in his bedroom.

  He looked at me, his eyes piercing my resolve. I had to look away before I embarrassed myself by kissing him.

  “It’s fine. No way you could’ve known. I’ll have Timmy take them back,” he said.

  “Okay,” I replied, still wanting to take them back myself. “But I could get you something else when I return them.”

  “Timmy will do it, end of subject.” And that was that.

  I found myself wanting to find reasons to spend more time with him, and getting new cufflinks sounded like a good way. Alas, he and I came from, and ran in, different worlds. Speaking of running, he’d opened the door to spending more time, by running with him, and I’d shut it down.

  Of course I’d shut it down. I didn’t want this athlete seeing me huffing and puffing and sweating enough to soak through my clothes, while he breathed easy and barely broke a sweat. I wanted him to see me huffing and puffing and sweating on top of him, or under him. Any position would be fine with me.

  Could he be interested in me? He didn’t seem interested in anything but his company’s launch at the moment.

  “I’ll put this in the closet for you.” I picked up the folded clothes. “I know you’re busy.”