Lavish Loving

by A. C. Arthur

  “What did she say about booking her?”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  This elicited the famous Dent scowl Tyler’s family was known for. “Have you forgotten that fashion week is a month away? She’s probably already booked up. Breaking up with Max Tata has made her even more popular than when she was dating him. We’ll be lucky if we can get her.”

  “We’ll do everything it takes to make that happen. I want to pull out all the stops.”

  “Why didn’t you just ask her yourself?”

  “I did, indirectly. Not about working our runway but about whether or not she was totally booked. She isn’t. But there were other reasons. I didn’t want to make a decision based off a gut—or loin—reaction to seeing her so unexpectedly. London is one of the most beautiful women on the planet. Period. But everyone in the industry knows she can be temperamental and scandalous. Plus, she commands a hefty fee. We need to weigh the pros against the cons.”

  “When it comes to cons, I don’t see any. The world loves controversy. If London makes headlines, let’s just hope she does so while wearing OTB.”

  “I hate to agree with that callous observation.”

  “But you know it’s true.”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” Ace had unwittingly caused a scandal or two himself. Like dating a thirty-three-year-old top model when he was just nineteen. Or getting trapped inside an Atlanta hotel room after someone leaked his room number and dozens of women showed up outside his door—some in their underwear. Hotel security had been overwhelmed. Police had to be called. One woman was arrested for indecent exposure. The media had eaten it up.

  “Booking London is a no-brainer. What were your other reasons?”

  Ace hesitated. He’d told no one about the weekend he’d spent with London years ago. No one but the two of them knew they’d shared those lascivious forty-eight hours. Only Ace knew that the torch he’d once carried for her had burned very brightly. He planned to keep it that way. And he intended to keep his distance from her. His heart was still raw from betrayal. He was older now. Established and thinking of settling down. If that fire got stoked again, making her his exclusively was just about the only way he could see putting it out. This past weekend she’d made it clear that marriage was not on her mind.

  “Booking her is a matter for Mira to handle, not me. I want London’s agent contacted the moment Mira arrives.”

  Mira Jacobs was the company’s tough-as-nails attorney who handled OTB’s legal matters and also oversaw the company’s brand.

  Tyler pulled out his phone. “I’ll text her now, find out when she’s planning to come in.”

  While Tyler texted Mira, Ace took a photo of what he’d sketched and sent it to Lucien along with the message, Let’s talk.

  Tyler placed his phone on the desk. “Now let’s discuss what’s really important.”

  “I can’t think of anything more important right now than fashion week, but...go ahead?”

  “Did you hit it?”

  Ace’s look? Deadpan.

  “Don’t give me that look as if I asked something crazy. She’s a beautiful woman. There’s no way I’d have passed up the chance for some of that!” A beat and then Tyler finished, “If I weren’t as gay as the earth is round.”

  “Can’t say I didn’t think about it. What red-blooded man wouldn’t? But right through here I’m all about business. Getting this line ready should be the only thing on our minds.”

  The day passed quickly. Shortly after Tyler left Ace’s office, Lucien arrived, excited about and impressed with the design Ace had texted him. Ace spoke with Mira about London and then called a meeting with the designers to implement his latest ideas. More changes were made to the fall menswear line that they would be showing this spring, and the direction of the OTB Her line was clarified and expanded. After a phone powwow with finance, the PR and marketing budgets were increased. The partners decided not to reveal the news about London until it was a done deal, but in regard to the design team, he’d let it be known that a famous face would be among the models wearing the clothing.

  Speculation ran rampant. Ace didn’t mind. Nothing like a bit of healthy competition among the models to bring out everyone’s A game. Throughout the day, his cell phone was nearby. Now that everyone was on board with London as the fashion show’s star model, he wanted to get the contract signed and make it official. Five o’clock came and went, and then six. He contacted Mira. There was still no word. He turned off his office lights and left the building just before seven without an answer. As he entered his driveway around seven thirty, his phone rang. The number showed up unknown, a common occurrence on his company phone. He pressed the answer button on the steering wheel, and heard a familiar voice.

  “So... Ace Montgomery... I hear you want my body after all.”

  Chapter 7

  London looked at the phone, cold and silent in her hand. He hung up on me? The thought barely finished before her ringtone sounded. The words of her favorite song—Jan Baker’s “Who I Am”—blasted from the speaker, the words OTB Fashion showed on her screen.

  “For someone wanting my services, that was not a good move.”

  Ace chuckled, a low, sexy sound that made London’s kitty purr.

  “I apologize. I’d just gotten home, and when I turned off the car my phone didn’t switch over. It normally does.”

  “I guess I’ll forgive you...this time.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  “Is it true? You want my body?”

  “Yes.”

  A pause, pregnant with possibilities and promises, followed his response.

  “Then why were you acting all reserved in Temecula? I could have easily been your dessert last night.”

  “I was speaking professionally. Our new line was designed with women like you in mind. My partners and I would very much like to make you the star model in the OTB Her fashion show.”

  “So that’s the big secret you couldn’t share the other day. OTB is introducing a women’s line.”

  “Not just a women’s line, but the embodiment of a woman’s attitude. It’s been in development for a while, a couple years, really, since its conception. But in being around you, I saw all the pieces come together. You embody the woman these clothes are designed for. When I suggested to my partners that you might not be booked up for fashion week, they couldn’t get to your agent fast enough.”

  “Now I understand the gift of the flower.”

  “What flower?”

  “That stunning single Kinabalu orchid, and in a Baccarat vase, no less. Classy move, Mr. Montgomery. It doesn’t happen easily, but I’m impressed.”

  “Wow. I’m tempted to keep my mouth shut and take the credit. But when the real person came forward I’d look like a dishonest fool.”

  “You didn’t send the flower?” Discomfort replaced intrigue.

  “No, London, I didn’t. Where was it delivered?”

  “The hotel’s front desk. I called the bungalow, but you’d checked out already.”

  “You must have made quite an impression on another hotel guest.”

  “No. I stayed in one of my family’s private guesthouses. Was only in the hotel a couple times and tried to stay incognito. One guy recognized me, though. We took a selfie. Oh, well. I’ll call the hotel later and see what information I can get from them. Right now—” the flirty tone returned “—I’m trying to see what I can get from you.”

  “You are a very tempting morsel, London. Even all these years later, I remember those nights we shared. But I’m no longer that promiscuous, impulsive man you met in London, the one for whom having sex was as common as eating lunch, and indulged in almost as often. These days, for me, it’s not so much about having sex as it is about making love.”

  “So who is she?”
<
br />   “Who?”

  “The lucky woman who’s getting that love. And don’t tell me you’re celibate, because there is no way I’d believe you.”

  “No, I’m not celibate. But I’m also no longer into casual sex. I don’t judge those who are—each to his own. But as I told you yesterday, my love affair has been with the secret you now know about... OTB Her. In one way or another, that’s how I’ve been spending my nights and weekends. My partners ordered me to Temecula for vacation. They were right. I was stressed the hell out. But now I know the real reason I ended up there. It was so I could run into you.”

  “So we could do business together. This is all about business, nothing more?”

  “Right now, that’s all I’m about, period. Plus, I’m not sure I could keep it casual with you. And I’m equally unclear if I could handle a relationship right now.”

  “Sounds like there’s a story there. You know about me and Max. It’s only fair I get under your sheets, one way or another.”

  “You’re right. There’s a story. Maybe one day. Right now, though, the story I’m trying to do with you is one that will rock the runways this fashion season and then rock the world. Don’t make a decision right now. Just take a meeting with us. We’ll handle everything. Once you see what we’ve designed for the ladies, you’ll be in. Guaranteed.”

  “You’re that sure of yourself, huh?”

  “No, but it sounded good.”

  “Ha! Indeed. Let me think about it and get back to you.”

  “When? I don’t mean to rush you, but New York Fashion Week is next month.”

  “I won’t take long.”

  “Thank you, London. I look forward to seeing you later this week.”

  “Stop sounding so sexy before I demand a rider to any contract I sign with OTB...you.”

  * * *

  London hung up and went to the sitting room of the west-wing suite in her parents’ Paradise Cove estate. It was where her older sister, Teresa, had lived before marrying Atka, her Alaskan love. She walked around the room, idly picked up porcelain and crystal knickknacks, and replayed Ace’s offer in her head. Truth of the matter was, she didn’t need to think about it. She’d already accepted it mentally before the words had fully left his mouth. No need for him to know that, though. Whenever possible, it was always best to let a man sweat. In truth, that’s what she really wanted—Ace’s sheen-covered body hovering over her own. He was sexy and by far the best lover she’d ever had. But even that wasn’t his main attraction. What made him most irresistible was that he’d turned her down. For London, it was a first. And a challenge. Drakes lived for challenges. And they didn’t like the word no.

  Her phone chirped, indicating a message. London returned to her bedroom, hoping it was Ace having changed his mind about their hooking up. But it was her agent, with yet another booking opportunity. She’d told the agency she was sitting out this fashion season. Now that she was contemplating walking for OTB, her agent had decided to field other calls. The phone hadn’t stopped ringing. Instead of calling Incomparable, London rang Quinn. That Ace hadn’t sent the flower bothered her more than she wanted to admit. She got voice mail, left a message and then went downstairs.

  She found her parents, Ike Sr. and Jennifer, in their favorite sitting room. Her father slowly swirled a tumbler of brandy. Jennifer drank tea.

  “Hey, you two.”

  “Hello, dear,” Jennifer replied.

  “Evening, Clarisse,” Ike said, eyeing her warily over his tumbler.

  London didn’t bother correcting her father. To her parents, she’d always be Clarisse. She walked over to an ornate buffet crafted of ebony wood and poured a glass of sparkling water.

  “Are you joining us for dinner, dear?”

  “Yes. What’s for dinner?”

  “Oh, no, you must want something. Let me lock away my checkbook.”

  “Now, Ike. Don’t tease like that. Sweetie, is everything all right?”

  “Everything’s fine, Mom.” Except for the expensive gift from a stranger. That didn’t feel fine at all. But why share and have three people worried? “Don’t worry, Dad. Thanks to your suggestion years ago to hire a financial planner, my bank accounts and investment portfolios are all very healthy. Your checkbook is safe from me.”

  Ike nodded. “Good.”

  “I do have a question to ask, though, and a potential favor.”

  “I knew it!” Ike shook his head sadly. “You were such a quiet, obedient child. But since hitting the teen years you’ve caused ninety of the one hundred gray hairs I now have on my head.”

  “Ike Drake! That is simply not true. If I recall correctly it’s seventy-five.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “We want to renovate the west-wing suite for her to live. And here you are, pushing her away. We’re very proud of you, Clarisse. And we’re so glad you’re home. Would you like something besides water? Wine or tea?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Then let’s move to the dining room.”

  The three bypassed the larger dining room and the table for twelve and continued to the smaller table off the family room.

  “Just us tonight?” London asked.

  “Yes,” Ike answered, “and that’s fine with me. I saw enough Drakes this past weekend to last me till summer.”

  “Mr. Drake. You’re being a rascal. What has gotten into you tonight?”

  “Didn’t say I didn’t love them. Just that I don’t need to see so many again until the next reunion.”

  The three sat down to a light dinner prepared by the chef. After small talk about the weekend, Ike shifted the conversation.

  “Tell me about this favor.”

  “I might need to go to San Francisco this week and wanted to know if the plane was available.”

  Ike raised a brow. “The company plane?”

  “Unless you’ve purchased one for recreational use, yes, Dad, that’s the one.”

  Jennifer chuckled.

  “That plane is to be used for company business only.”

  “This is business.”

  “Drake Realty Plus business?”

  “In a way. My last name is Drake.”

  Both her parents laughed at that.

  “San Francisco is less than two hours away, honey,” Jennifer said.

  “You know I don’t drive.”

  Ike’s fork stopped midair. “Doesn’t mean you can’t. Or you can hire a driver.”

  Jennifer reached for the linen napkin beside her plate, wiped her mouth and turned to her daughter. “What’s happening in San Francisco?”

  London told them about seeing Ace in Temecula and about his modeling offer.

  Jennifer’s eyes brightened. “I know about that young man.”

  “You remember his underwear ads, Mom?”

  Ike looked at his wife. “Careful with your answer, hon.”

  Jennifer’s eyes sparkled as she looked at Ike. “Honey, the only underwear that has caught my eye for the past thirty years has been worn by you.”

  “Oh, Lord.” London groaned, but secretly she enjoyed seeing her parents interact this way. They’d given her the perfect vision of what true love looked like. “How’d you hear about Ace?”

  “A couple weeks ago, at a meeting with the fund-raising committee. In fact, I was planning to talk about it with you and ask you to participate. It’s for the community center. We’re planning a charity fashion show event featuring local designers and models, as well. OTB Him is one of the companies we reached out to.”

  “Did you hear anything yet?”

  “No. The letters went out just last week.”

  “I thought you were taking a break from modeling,” Ike said. “Making a point to spend more time with your family.”
>
  “The big one you don’t need to see anymore until next year?”

  “Don’t get cute, young lady. I’m talking about your immediate family. Your grandparents are getting older. You owe them a visit. You’ve got nieces and nephews you barely know, and in-laws, too.”

  “Whose fault is that?” London mumbled.

  “You really want my answer?” Ike challenged.

  “Let’s not go there, you two. The past is over and can’t be retrieved. Let’s treat the present like it is, a gift.”

  It had always been this way between London and her father. The friction came from the fact they were so much alike.

  “I do want to stay close by, Dad,” London admitted. “Being with the family this weekend made me realize how much I’ve truly missed you guys, how I’ve just missed...family. And while I’m sure this will shock the both of you I really am ready to take a break from my jet-setter life. I’m taking off from full-time modeling for at least a year. This job would be for a month, basically walking the four major fashion weeks for OTB, and that’s it.”

  Jennifer nodded. “New York, Paris, Milan...and what’s the other?”

  “Really, Mom?”

  “Oh, right!” Jennifer laughed. “London!” She placed a hand on Ike’s forearm. “Perhaps one of the executives has business up north, darling,” Jennifer offered. “I recall you mentioning Junior having a meeting at Ten Drake Plaza. Clarisse can ride along and see our latest acquisition. Getting a designer like Mr. Montgomery on board could mean lots of money for the community center.”

  “Yes, Dad,” London added, “the Drake Community Center. Company business.”

  “Where are my sons when I need them? I’m clearly outnumbered.” Ike’s look toward his daughter was one of exasperation mixed with a grudging respect. “Ike has a meeting at Ten Drake Plaza on Wednesday or Thursday. You can ride up with him. But for the return? You’re on your own. It won’t kill you to fly commercial.”