Forget You

by Nina Crespo

  “You don’t understand. On my own, I’m a walking target for someone to trap me in a conversation about their idea of the next huge deal.”

  “Tell them to call me and make an appointment.”

  “Some people aren’t good at taking the hint, and telling them to leave me the hell alone isn’t good for business.”

  That’s why he’d invited Jenna. He’d grown tired of listening to her whine about him neglecting her, but he’d decided to tolerate it for one more week so he could take her to the gala. She knew how to smile, redirect people’s attention, and move them along. Aiden would ride his ass if he didn’t suck it up and go. Shit. Weariness pulled at King and he leaned back against the counter. After the comments Jenna had made at her sister’s wedding, he shouldn’t have assumed she was still on board with their no-strings arrangement. Or that she was level-headed. Like Sophie.

  He straightened. Sophie. Practical. Uncomplicated. The perfect plus-one for the event. “What are your plans for tonight?”

  “Going home like my cranky boss ordered.”

  He tossed the makeshift pack into the sink. “I’m serious. Answer the question.”

  She dumped the ice from the cloth and laid it on the dish rack. “I did give you an answer.” She smoothed her bangs and shrugged. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

  Batting hair out of her eyes. A one-shouldered shrug. They were her tells. She was trying to pass off a half-truth. “Handle it later. You’re coming with me.”

  Her eyes popped wide. “What? To the gala? I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not dressed for a formal party.”

  It didn’t matter what she had on. Whether it was a pantsuit, a simple blouse, or a skirt that showed off her toned legs, Sophie always looked decent. But if not having a fancy outfit was the main excuse for her not coming, he could easily make it a nonissue.

  “If I can wrangle shoes for Jenna, I can definitely find you a dress.” King went through the connecting door into his office and snagged his cell from the desk.

  “King, no, it’s too late.”

  “The hell it is. After what just happened, Meagan owes me.”

  two

  GO TO THE gala with King? She couldn’t. Aiden’s assistant, Carol, was in tight with the building’s gossip crew. If she got ahold of the news, the rumor mill would explode. Sophie waved, grabbing his attention.

  He shook his head at her and kept talking on the phone. “Meagan, it’s me. Yes, Jenna was upset. You bet I’m pissed your employee outed my personal business.” He paused for a moment, raising his eyebrow at Sophie. “Actually, there is a way you can make it up to me. My assistant needs an evening dress for tonight. You need us there in twenty minutes? That’ll work. We’re on our way.” He ended the call. “Done. Meagan is giving you a dress.”

  “I can’t go.”

  “Of course you can.” He slipped his cell into his pocket.

  “You’re assuming I don’t have something important to take care of.”

  “Like what?”

  Say that takeout and pay-per-view were her big Thursday-night plans? No way. She’d sound pathetic. “It’s not that simple.”

  “It is. You needed something to wear. I solved the problem.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe you just don’t want to go with me.”

  “I work for you. Aren’t you worried about how that will look?”

  “Easy fix. We just tell them the truth. My date couldn’t go. The tickets were difficult to obtain. I appreciated you securing them at the last minute. Taking you to the event was a thank-you from me to you for your effort.”

  “And the dress?”

  “Do you normally give details to people about your clothes? It’s nobody’s business where it came from or how you got it. As far as Meagan goes, she values our friendship. She won’t let her staff spread gossip again. She’ll tell them to keep their mouths shut about us showing up at the boutique. Anything else?”

  Typical King in get-it-done mode. He’d covered all the bases, and his solution made sense. Still, it would suck to remember her one shot at going out with him happened because he’d snatched her out of the office as a handy replacement for Jenna.

  “Yes. There is.” She crossed her arms, matching his stance. “I want to be asked. Properly.”

  “Properly?” He laughed.

  Imagining those velvety rumbles turning into groans of sexual satisfaction had gotten her off so many times since their encounter at the bar, her battery-operated boyfriend had died a shuddering death.

  Gaze never wavering from hers, he strolled over to where Sophie stood and gently grasped her hand with his. “Will you accompany me to the charity gala. Please?” He lifted her hand.

  The soft brush of his lips against the back of it dried out Sophie’s throat. “Yes.”

  King let go and she dropped back into reality.

  “Great. Let’s get to the shop. Meagan’s waiting for us.” He snagged his suit jacket from the back of the chair.

  Pull it together. She grabbed her purse from her desk on the way out. He wasn’t whisking her off on a date, and at the end of the night, she wasn’t riding him to orgasm-ever-after. They were attending the event as professionals.

  One harrowing blur of a Porsche ride later, King halted the black sports car next to the curb a few blocks from the office.

  They got out.

  He ushered her into a shop with a little-black-dress logo adorning the glass door.

  Studio lights illuminated the modern, blond-wood-floored space. An array of women’s clothing hung on circular racks, and neatly folded pants and pullover shirts lay in rectangular, wooden spaces built into the walls. Meagan’s Loft. Hadn’t Robin mentioned the other day that this was one of the hottest boutiques in town?

  An attractive twentysomething woman approached them. Platinum-streaked dark hair complemented her brown complexion. The cream slacks and silk blouse she wore appeared casual but screamed expensive. “That was fast.”

  “We’re in a hurry.” His cell rang as he pecked the woman on the cheek. “I need to take this. Sophie, meet Meagan Langston. You’re in good hands.” He paced away from them as he talked on the phone. “No. I didn’t invite her to stay the night.” The snap in his voice rained chills. “There isn’t a reason for me to talk to her. I don’t care what her issue is.” His tone grew more implacable. “Escort her out.”

  Was he talking about Jenna? A personal chef and a maid service had access to his home. Was she trying to convince one of them to let her in?

  Meagan looped her arm through Sophie’s. “Let’s get you ready.”

  They passed polished wooden platforms with mannequins clothed in eye-catching casual to professional to evening wear. The pale peach dress on the last mannequin was to die for.

  Sophie couldn’t stop her mouth from hanging open as she traced her fingers over the gown’s intricate floral lace sleeve. “This is gorgeous.”

  Meagan grinned. “Wait until you see what I chose for you.”

  They walked through an archway into a large fitting room with a purple geometric-patterned rug delineating the seating area.

  Meagan went to a bucket of champagne and two flutes waiting on a glass coffee table in front of a curved, deep lavender sofa. She glanced to the head of the room as she filled the glasses. Four evening gowns hung near a three-way mirror. “The red one is too long for you and pink isn’t right for your skin tone. I’m thinking the navy, but the cream would look good too. Which one do you like?”

  “Honestly, I love them all.” Sophie’s hand trembled as she accepted the glass Meagan handed her. Champagne splashed her fingers. Clumsiness from nerves eliminated the light-colored dress as an option. Later tonight she’d embarrass herself by wearing the entrée if she didn’t pull it together. “I’ll take the blue one.”

  “Perfect.” Meagan sat her flute on the table. “Strip to your panties. Actually, take everything off.”

  Sophie choked on champagne. “E
verything? Do I have to?” Dreaming about not having on underwear around King was one thing, but doing it was another. She’d spend the night feeling as if the gown were transparent.

  “The dress is formfitting. You have to go commando; otherwise, you’ll see every single panty line. It also has a really deep, open back.” Meagan waved her hand as if clearing the conversation away. “We’d better get started. I’m sure you know King is impatient. Normally I’d tell him to park his ass and wait, but as uptight as he is right now, he’d bite my head off.” Meagan plucked a black silk robe from a hook on the wall. She handed it to Sophie and left.

  Sophie upended the remainder of her glass. The alcohol settled the butterflies in her stomach. She should call Robin. Scratch that. Robin would make a big deal over her going out with her scorching-hot boss. Sophie sent a text claiming she had to work late. Her nerves were already shot without Robin teasing her about King.

  She undressed and put on the robe.

  Meagan hurried in carrying a shoe box.

  A young, dark-haired woman followed behind her, lugging a director’s chair and a red stylist’s toolbox. She set up near the mirror.

  “Donna will style your hair. I’ll do your makeup.” Meagan handed Sophie a small bundle of blue silk. “You may be able to get away with this under the gown.”

  Sophie unraveled the micro-thong and slipped it on. At least it covered her front. She sat in the chair.

  The two women pounced.

  She took meditative breaths as the stylist pinned her curls in an updo. Enjoy this. Someone pampering her and having a chance to dress up didn’t happen every day. Foundation and lip gloss, along with simple business attire, were her staples at work. On a date, she wore more makeup and a fancier outfit, but she hadn’t gone out in months. According to Robin, compared to most twenty-six-year-olds, her current social life put the b in boring.

  “All done.” Meagan held up the navy dress. “Now, let’s get you into this.”

  Sophie stepped into the light, flowing fabric and Meagan zipped her in.

  Jeweled shoulder straps secured a low-cut bodice that molded to her breasts. A slit ran high on her thigh while the back dipped to the base of her spine. She’d never worn anything this beautiful or daring.

  “You look fantastic.” Meagan took a pair of matching, lace-covered slingback stilettos from the shoe box and laid them on the floor.

  Sophie wiggled into them. “They’re tight.”

  “They’re perfect.” Meagan glanced at the makeup artist, who was busy packing up. She leaned nearer to Sophie. “In this dress, around King, I doubt you’ll be on your feet very long anyway.”

  “Oh no—we don’t have that kind of a relationship.”

  “You mean he can look but he can’t touch?” Meagan snickered. “Where can I buy a ticket to that party? I’ll pay triple the price just to watch him suffer.”

  “It would be a waste of your money. There’s nothing between us.”

  Amusement lit up Meagan’s coppery brown eyes, as if she didn’t believe the claim that things were strictly nonsexual. She handed Sophie a pair of faux-sapphire-and-diamond earrings and a satin clutch. “Then I advise that you take off your shoes in the car so you can give your toes a break.”

  Sophie put on the jewelry. King seeing her as more than his assistant was crazy, especially considering his latest dating preference. Tall, blond, and superglamorous.

  “Don’t worry about your clothes.” Meagan laid Sophie’s work dress on the arm of the sofa. “I’ll make sure they’re delivered to your office tomorrow. Your bracelet, it goes perfectly. Where did you buy it?”

  “I made it.”

  “It’s lovely.” Meagan’s attention lingered on Sophie’s wrist. “My customers would snap up something like that. Where can I order your designs?”

  Her bracelets in Meagan’s Loft? Robin had mentioned countless times that her stuff belonged in a trendy boutique. No. She gave herself a mental shake. Like her mom had said, making jewelry was just a fun hobby, not a real job. Sophie’s initial surprise and delight dimmed. She had a good salary that paid the bills and allowed her to build up a nice amount in her savings.

  Sophie transferred items from her purse and slipped them into the clutch. “I just make a few bracelets for friends and people who ask. That’s all I have time for, but I’d like to make you one as a thank-you.”

  Meagan grinned. “I love getting exclusives. It makes everyone envious.”

  “It’s the least I can do for all of this.” Sophie stood in front of the mirror, entranced by her reflection. She smoothed a loose, wispy curl from her eye. The woman staring back at her in the mirror really was her, and this was actually happening. She was going out with King.

  King deleted the text on his phone and blocked the source. Jenna. She was pissed about him having security escort her out of Grove Terrace, the building where he rented a penthouse condo. That’s why he never took a woman he was seeing to his real home outside of the city. It was less complicated to restrict access to the condo. He fired off a message to his car service to pick up and detail his Porsche.

  A call came in. The name and number of the woman he’d taken to the restaurant the other night flashed on the screen.

  King hit ignore. He’d talk to her later. Dealing with Jenna had ruined the thrill of the chase.

  Fabric rustled.

  “I’m ready.” Sophie floated toward him in an evening gown that showed off a generous amount of smooth skin and lovingly clung to her lush breasts, waist, and hips.

  His heart bumped in his chest. She didn’t dress like a nun at the office, but he hadn’t let his eyes stray beyond her beautiful legs. Most of the time. How had he missed all of those damn curves?

  “Why are you scowling at me?” She glanced down at herself. “Is something wrong?”

  Women normally made a point of twirling around to give him a nice, long look at the view. Of course she wouldn’t. Sophie wasn’t interested in seducing him. “The limo. Carl is running late. I should call him.”

  “The car is right outside. Are you blind?”

  If only he could acquire temporary blindness to keep himself from staring at her. This was Sophie. They weren’t on a date, and the night wouldn’t end with her in his bed. King held the door open.

  She glided past. The gown framed her bare back, and the two dimples above her heart-shaped butt taunted him.

  Shit. He’d have to keep himself in check every time he viewed her biteable-looking ass.

  King swallowed a groan and almost choked against the friction of his collar, which had suddenly grown too tight. She either wore nothing underneath her dress or the skimpiest underwear in the known universe.

  Buildings zipped past in the windows as the car sped through the city.

  Sophie settled back into the black leather seat across from him. Streetlights illuminated her face.

  What a switch from Jenna. Sophie’s expression wasn’t a mask of boredom. She also hadn’t fished for a compliment about how she looked, or asked for some other form of adoration from him.

  Sophie absently fiddled with a charm on her bracelet. “So what’s tonight really about?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I got the tickets, the event organizer said this was the first time they’d ever sold out. The only difference is the venue. Something else has changed. What is it?”

  “The Ivy Gate just went through a major renovation. They’re also constructing a restaurant on the top floor. The event is probably drawing a crowd because we’re not the only ones who want to take a look at the changes, especially since they’ve had some issues. The hotel was top of the list with corporate travelers for years. Two years ago, the new owners of the property decided they needed to be more family-friendly, so they switched up the atmosphere. It wasn’t a smart move. Business guests were overrun by kids.”

  “Overrun?” She laughed. “You make it sound as if the children were an invading army.”

  “The
y were to people who just wanted a quiet drink in the bar at the end of the day instead of navigating ice-cream parties and minigolf in the lobby. Once the owners realized their mistake, they altered their strategy and restored the property to better accommodate corporate travelers. Financially they were a little too ambitious, particularly when it came to constructing a new restaurant.”

  “Now they need someone to invest or buy them out, and you’re in the market for a downtown property.”

  “Yes, but it’s not that easy of a sale. It’s going to take more than renovations for them to regain a foothold. The owners claim the revamped catering department is thriving and that events, along with the new restaurant, will bring in revenue.”

  “Ah, now I get it.” She smiled, and the lights outside added a sheen to her plum-colored lips. “It’s not just about checking out the place in general. You’re specifically interested in seeing how they handle the event.”

  “Exactly.” He wouldn’t care about the hotel or the gala if he couldn’t stop staring at her mouth. Ever since that night at the bar, visions of kissing Sophie as he laid her on his desk kept rearing up.

  The driver opened the door.

  King got out after Sophie.

  Her hips swayed seductively as she sashayed down the red-carpeted entry into the Ivy Gate.

  Blood surged below King’s waist. Great. Now he had a hard-on.

  He buttoned his suit jacket and willed his cock to cease and desist, but more images of Sophie arose. Ones of him kissing her, caressing her, easing her out of her dress. From the expressions of almost every man in the lobby, they were imagining their own versions of the same. They’d probably approach him with bogus deals just so they could ask her out. And she might say yes. Not happening. He steered her into the ballroom.

  As he led her through black-and-white linen-covered tables, she glanced over her shoulder. “The cocktail hour is still going on in the foyer. They’re serving champagne. Don’t you want some?”

  “No.”

  “So much for having fun tonight.”

  “Fun went out the window as soon as you picked that damned dress.”