“I think she likes you,” Tyler teased.
She shrugged and took a sip of the whiskey. Smooth and warm, it flowed down her throat like velvet. A good ending to this day.
The server was back a few seconds later with a plate of hot wings, cheese fries, and a cheese and veggie platter. So the crew liked bar food. Ellie approved. It made them more down-to-earth. “Flag me down for anything else,” the server said.
“Thanks.” Ellie smiled at her, and Khalil gave her a surreptitious thumbs-up.
“Khalil has worked a few other shows,” Tyler said, “and he can give you some pointers.”
“Great. Walk me through what I need to do the minute I get there.” She took one of the appetizer plates and loaded it up with fries and cheese and veggies. She might go for a wing later, but given the color of her shirt, she didn’t want to risk a food accident, though Khalil would totally sympathize. Maybe he even had an extra shirt with him.
Khalil described a typical first couple of hours backstage at a show, with Tyler adding a few things. Liz told her to try to get out front so she could watch some of the walks, which were pretty cool, apparently.
“This all sounds intense,” Ellie said, “but I’m sure I’ll learn a lot. I really appreciate you all taking the time to help me.” She pushed the cheese fry platter toward Khalil, who seemed to be as into them as she was. He enthusiastically served himself another helping and pushed the plate back to her.
She started to serve herself some more when a well-modulated British accent said, “Hello, everyone. Happy Friday.”
“Hi, Ms. H,” Khalil and Liz said on one accord.
Ellie grabbed a napkin and started to stand, trying to cover her shock at Marya joining the peons and addressing them in such a casual way. And oh, Lord, she was wearing a black Forties-style skirt and an off-white silk blouse that moved with her like a second skin. Simple, but on Marya, it looked like a million dollars.
“Don’t worry about it,” Marya said. “Just slide over.” And she smiled. Holy Christ on a surfboard, Marya Hampstead busted out a full smile, and it washed over Ellie like a warm, delicious wave. It lit her eyes up with sparks and promises and made Ellie think of last night on the dance floor, when Marya’s lips had been really close to her ear.
“Sure,” Ellie said, sounding smooth, though fireworks were shooting up and down her legs. She scooched over, pushing her bag and jacket along the wooden seat of the bench until both were against the wall. She also left room between her and Marya, because the dragon lady’s hotness was dangerous. It was at that moment that she noticed one of Marya’s security dudes sitting at a table near the booth, checking his phone. Ellie wondered if Daddy Hampstead had checked in with her, or if Marya even knew he was in town.
“Hi, Marya.” The server seemed to have teleported from the kitchen or something, because she was suddenly next to the table. “The usual?”
Marya settled herself next to Ellie. “Yes, thanks.”
She shifted her gaze to Ellie. “Another?”
“Yes.” She smiled at her. “Appreciate it.” And hello, but Marya was a regular here? She actually went out with staff on a regular basis?
“Anybody else?” the server asked.
The other three ordered another round, and Tyler added another cheese and veggie platter.
The server bounced to the security dude’s table, got his order, and then went to the bar. Ellie picked up her glass. She still had a bit of whiskey, and oh, she needed it.
For her part, Marya talked to Khalil and then Tyler. Liz looked anxious and kept toying with her empty glass. Marya asked her about a project she was working on, and Liz answered with a nervous lilt to her voice. Ellie watched Marya out of her peripheral vision, pretending to care what everybody else was up to. So out of the office, she was less dragon, more lady? Which jibed with what Gwen had told her.
The server reappeared with drinks and set a tall glass garnished with strawberry, cucumber, apple, and a sprig of mint in front of Marya. She placed the other drinks in front of their respective owners and left again.
“Pimm’s cup,” Marya said, and Ellie realized she’d been busted scoping out Marya’s glass. And her fingers, which were manicured, but she was not wearing colored nail polish today. “They make a very good one here,” Marya added. “Authentic.” She gestured at Ellie’s glass. “Which whiskey?”
“Red Breast.”
The hint of another smile danced at the corner of her mouth, and all of Ellie’s internal organs felt like they were doing gymnastics.
“Excellent choice,” she said.
Liz’s eyes widened at this approval from the ice queen.
“And how are you finding Fashion Forward, Ms. Daniels?” Marya asked as she stirred her drink.
“Fast-paced, informative, busy, sometimes intense. And I’ve decided I kind of like the coffee.”
Liz stared at her. Ellie caught her gaze and gave her a tiny shrug. She hid her smile behind the rim of her glass.
Tyler laughed, and Marya smiled as she sipped her drink. Oh, how Ellie wanted to be the glass—whoa, hold up. Get a grip. You may have to arrest this woman.
But holy hell, Marya was doing all kinds of crazy things to her nerves.
And other parts of her body.
Without even trying.
Fortunately, Marya directed the conversation to other projects at the mag, and Ellie relaxed a bit. She could listen to her talk all day in that voice and accent. Even if it was just reciting grocery lists, which made her feel like a provincial American, but so what? That accent wrapped in the package that was Marya Hampstead? Who wouldn’t want to hear that all day?
“We’re trying your Agent Carter suggestion,” Marya said, and Ellie snapped immediately to attention.
“It looks…well, excellent.” Tyler grinned at her. “You’ll see the layouts next week.”
“Glad I could help.”
Liz stared at Ellie again, while Khalil was busy with the remains of the fries. Fortunately for him, the server appeared with the second cheese and veggie platter along with a clean stack of appetizer plates.
“Everybody good?” she asked and, at the affirmatives, moved efficiently away with the dirties to check on other tables. There were only three servers, and this place was getting pretty busy.
Marya placed several pieces of cheese on her plate along with a bunch of carrots and cucumbers. And olives. That was heartening. Olives were important in Ellie’s world. Not that it mattered. There was zero chance of anything between her and Hampstead. Fun to think about, though.
“How do you envision the Agent Carter theme playing out?” she asked Marya.
“Very well. It’s classic, like you said, but also playful. And maybe a little dangerous. I made it a point to watch the first season of the show, which made me like your suggestion even more.”
Ellie reached for her glass. “Have you watched the second season?”
“Just started it.”
“I love Agent Carter,” Tyler admitted. “Down-to-earth glamour.”
Marya stared at him. “That. Write that down.”
“Got it,” Khalil said, holding his phone up.
“We can use that.” Marya took a bite of cheese, and Ellie melted inside. The ice queen was human and had to eat actual food. “I have to say, Ms. Daniels,” she continued, “I haven’t had the best luck with interns prior to you.”
Liz’s eyes were practically popping out of her head.
She took another sip of whiskey to distract herself from the throbbing between her legs. “Call me Ellie. And I’m just grateful for the chance to contribute. Who knew my Agent Carter habit could prove useful?”
Khalil popped a piece of cheese into his mouth. “I’m halfway through the first season. I’m kind of loving it.”
“That’s another one of my secret alternative career choices.” Ellie bit into a carrot.
“Secret agent?” Tyler asked.
“Well, that. And writer for a TV show like
that. I think that might be easier than the secret agent part.”
At that moment, Marya’s leg brushed hers. When did Marya get close enough to do that? Or had Ellie done it? Shit. She shifted a little to her left. Not enough to be obvious, but enough so that she wouldn’t be in contact with Marya’s leg. Which was most distracting. Though incredibly arousing.
“Secret agent,” Marya said, and it sounded thoughtful, as if she was considering the idea. “Any particular reason why?”
“Not really,” she said, enjoying the irony in this conversation. “It looks like fun. And interesting.”
“And dangerous,” Khalil said.
“I think Ellie could probably handle it.” Tyler stirred his drink before he took a sip.
“Indeed,” Marya said, and then somebody’s cell phone rang with the sound reserved for old-school rotary dials. Marya dug her phone out of her bag and glanced at it. “I have to take this.” She got up and went over to her security guard’s table.
Liz tapped Tyler’s shoulder, and he slid out of the booth so she could get out. Ellie guessed she was on her way to the restroom. When Liz was out of earshot, Tyler leaned forward, conspiratorial.
“You are privy to a major secret,” he said with a little smirk.
“That Marya Hampstead has been binge-watching Agent Carter? I’ll take it to my grave.”
Khalil giggled, and Tyler’s smirk turned into a smile. “That’s part of the secret. But as you no doubt have started to realize, Marya cultivates a certain public persona, and she does it very well.”
“You mean the ice queen thing?”
Tyler sipped his drink. “That’s one of the milder terms for it. And yes.”
“Why?”
“It gives her an edge in this industry, and it ensures that her private life stays private. If you have a rep like that, and it involves going after paparazzi, for example, and shutting inquiries down, people tend to leave you alone, or they’re more respectful about how they approach you.”
Which meant that Marya was a rare celebrity who actually retained a lot of control over her image. “So what makes me special, to be in on this?” She picked up a piece of cheese and glanced over at Marya, who was still on the phone and from her body language, she was back in ice queen mode. She looked back at Tyler.
“Marya is a very good judge of character,” he said, and she suddenly felt guilty, because she was totally not at all what Marya thought. It sucked, sometimes, that she was so good at lying. And it bugged her that she was lying to Marya about everything.
“I’m flattered,” she said.
“You should be.” Tyler munched on a cucumber slice, and Marya returned.
“That was Reggie. He’ll be calling you to finish with some details.” She sat back down and sure enough, his phone rang.
“No rest for the wicked,” Ellie said as he got up and went to the security guard’s table. She liked all this politeness in the modern world.
Khalil slid out of the booth, too. “Be right back,” he said and moved toward the entrance. Probably wanted to smoke. And oh, hell, here she was, sitting next to Marya Hampstead. Inches between them.
“Do you go to Lucky often?” Marya asked. Her gaze pinned Ellie’s, and she almost forgot what language she spoke.
“I haven’t been in a while,” she said, applauding herself because she didn’t sound completely idiotic. “A friend of mine has been after me for a while to get out a bit more. Something about working too hard. Not that you’d know anything about that.” She picked up her glass with a little smile and sipped. Careful with the liquid courage, she warned herself.
“Not at all,” Marya said, teasing right back.
“I figured. Running a fashion empire is clearly a piece of cake.” She sipped again. “A very complicated, multilayer, extremely pretty, and well-attuned cake, but cake nonetheless.” Oh, shit. Too much liquid courage.
But good God, Marya Hampstead laughed. Actually laughed. And it sounded like the way excellent whiskey tasted. Rich and tangy on the front end but warm and soft on the back. There was far too much sexy in that laugh. Fuck.
“On another note, I notice things,” Marya said.
Ellie had figured that out right away. She waited for her to continue.
Marya ran her fingertip over the rim of her glass. “And one of the things I noticed about you is that you’re not easily intimidated.”
She kept her mouth shut. This was Marya Hampstead, after all. She could whip out the dragon lady any time and kill mere mortals with a glare.
“I appreciate that, because it’s hard to find people I can rely on in this business. Many lose their perspective.”
“Starstruck?” she asked. Her glass was her new best friend, because it kept her hand busy and made sure she wasn’t nervously tapping her fingers on the table.
“Frankly, yes.”
She realized that Marya, though the type of woman who commanded respect, was also interested in people who looked past the persona. It made her human, maybe a little vulnerable, and she felt even worse about the dossier she’d pored over and all the information she’d accumulated on her. It made her feel creepy and sort of stalker-ish. Especially sitting here with her, enjoying a drink. And her smile. And laugh.
And it was seriously time to go, before shit got out of hand. Fortunately, Tyler returned.
“Done,” he said. “And it’s about time for dinner.”
Marya glanced at her phone and a little frown creased her forehead. Ellie wanted to stroke it smooth. Or kiss it.
Seriously. It was time to go.
“I suppose so.” Marya didn’t sound enthused, and Ellie looked at Tyler.
“We have a dinner date with a few of the designers who will be showing tomorrow.” He shrugged and finished the last piece of cheese from the now sad, picked-over platter. Khalil appeared, Liz with him. Maybe she’d been out smoking with him.
“Good to see you outside of work,” he said to Ellie.
“Yes. I certainly enjoyed talking about work outside of work,” she said with a grin as she finished the last of her whiskey.
Tyler laughed, and Liz kept glancing from him to Marya, as if she was trying to figure out what cue to take.
“Well,” Marya said. “I’m sorry to cut this short. But I’ll see you tomorrow.” She got up, and Ellie was both relieved and disappointed.
“Definitely.” She looked at Tyler. “What do I owe you for my share?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Taken care of. See you tomorrow.
She grabbed her jacket and bag and slid out of the booth. “All right. Thanks again. See everybody tomorrow.” She put her jacket on just as the server appeared.
“Thanks, everyone,” she said. “And thanks, Marya. Good to see you.”
“And you. Please send your parents my best.”
“I will. ’Til next time,” she said to Tyler and Khalil, who gave her brief hugs and made their way to the door, Liz trailing after.
“I hope to see you again, too,” the server said to Ellie. She raised her eyebrows playfully.
“Sounds good. Looking forward to it.”
The server smiled and set to work clearing the table because people were already standing around waiting for it. Ellie turned to go and realized that Marya was standing with her security guard, and she had a quizzical little smile tugging at the corners of her perfect mouth.
“You passed her test,” Marya said.
“I don’t even know what it was.” She adjusted her bag and followed Marya and the guard through the knots of people toward the front door.
“She appreciates women who drink good whiskey.” And then they were outside, and she turned and faced Ellie. “As do I.”
And Ellie fell right into the warm depths of her eyes, right into this other Marya—the one with the teasing sense of humor and the amazing laugh and the smiles that lit up entire city blocks. That was the Marya Hampstead she saw ton
ight, and God help her, she wanted to see much, much more.
“Have a good night,” Marya said. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yep. You will. Good night.” She smiled, waved, and walked away before she got herself into any more trouble. Definitely needed to walk a bit, get some perspective, because this might be more dangerous than an arms-dealing ring. This was a serious attraction, the kind that kept you up at night and left you burning all day. This was a once-in-a-very-long-while kind of attraction and it came at the absolute worst time, in the worst possible circumstances.
Get to work, she reminded herself. She called Rick.
“Hey,” he answered.
“I’m assuming you have somebody on Marya. She’s having dinner with Jackson for sure, as well as some fashion designers. Don’t know where, but they’re on their way.”
“We are on it. Did you know she was going to show up tonight?”
“Hell, no. Shock city. But convenient for us.”
“She seems to be warming up to you. What was the topic of discussion?”
“You’re kidding, right?” She dodged a group of people laughing and talking. “What else do fashion moguls talk about with their staff? The upcoming fashion show tomorrow. And I am going to go home and get some sleep so I can be on point with that. I’ll call you when I get there, because I have a hunch.”
“Uh-oh. An O’Donnell hunch.”
“Yeah, whatever. They’re usually pretty good.”
“This is true. You do have about a seventy-two percent success rate with hunches.”
“You’re funny, Rick. This is me laughing.” She hung up and went down the stairs to the subway, working very hard to keep images of Marya out of her head and pretty much failing all the way to the sterile apartment in Brooklyn.
CHAPTER 10
So this was fashion on display. Ellie watched the models work the runway, timing their motions, poses, and spins to the music, staring out at the crowd. It was sort of like performance art, only everybody took it seriously. Natalie Koslov strutted onto the runway, and she had some kind of indefinable charisma that drew gazes right away. Models probably needed that to get noticed by the fashion houses.
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