Meanwhile, I’d been blogging for almost a decade, and my account had been stuck at just shy of nine hundred thousand followers for over a year. It was still a huge audience, and I was grateful for each and every one of them (except the bots and creepy men who treated Instagram like it was a hookup app), but I couldn’t deny the truth.
My social media was stagnating, and I had no clue how to revive it.
I faltered and lost my train of thought in the middle of a sentence.
Raya swooped into the lull like a vulture after prey. “Luisa, I’d love to hear about Delamonte’s fabric archive in Milan,” she said, pulling the CEO’s attention back to her. “Adam and I are visiting Italy this spring, and…”
Frustration bit at my veins as Raya successfully hijacked the conversation.
I opened my mouth to interrupt them. I could see myself doing it in my head, but in real life, the words couldn’t make it past the filter of my upbringing and lifelong social anxiety.
Disaster number three.
To anyone else, Raya’s interruption wouldn’t rise to the level of a disaster, but my brain couldn’t always untangle the difference between a setback and a catastrophe.
“You did well.”
My heart skipped a beat at Christian’s voice before it returned to its normal rhythm. “With?”
“Luisa.” He tilted his head toward the other woman. I hadn’t realized he’d been paying attention to our conversation; he’d been conversing with the guest on his other side the entire time. “She likes you.”
I gave him a doubtful stare. “We talked for five minutes.”
“It only takes one to make an impression.”
“One minute isn’t enough to get to know someone.”
“I didn’t say get to know someone.” Christian brought his wine to his lips, his words relaxed yet perceptive. “I said make an impression.”
“What impression did I make on you?”
The question sparked and hissed like a live wire between us, swallowing enough oxygen to make every breath a struggle.
Christian set his glass down with a precision that pulsed in my veins. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”
Surprise tinged with hurt bloomed in my chest. “That bad?”
From what I remembered, our first meeting had been fairly standard. I’d said a total of two words to him.
“No.” The word was a rough caress against my skin. “That good.”
Warmth suffused my skin.
“Oh.” I swallowed the breathless note in my voice. “Well, in case you were wondering, my first impression of you was that you were very well-dressed.”
That’d been my second impression. My first impression had actually been that face. So perfectly chiseled and symmetrical it should be stamped inside textbooks as a prime example of the golden ratio.
But I wouldn’t admit that even if Christian put a gun to my head.
If I did, he might think I was flirting with him, and that would open a can of worms I didn’t want to deal with.
“Good to know.” His dry tone returned.
The servers brought out dessert, which he declined with a shake of his head.
I took a bite of layered chocolate cake before I asked, as casually as I could, “How do you know Luisa likes me?”
“I know.”
If this was the way Christian conducted all his conversations, I was surprised no one had tried to stab him in a boardroom yet. Or maybe they’d tried and failed.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Lu, are you coming down to D.C. anytime soon?” he asked, ignoring my pointed response and cutting into Luisa’s conversation with Raya like the other blogger wasn’t even there.
“No plans yet.” Luisa gave him a curious stare. “Why?”
“Stella was telling me about this spot that would be perfect for your menswear shoot.”
I almost choked on a mouthful of cake.
“Really?” Luisa eyed me with renewed interest. “That would be perfect timing. Our location scout has been having the hardest time finding a spot that’s on theme and not overdone. Where is it?”
“It’s…” I scrambled to come up with an answer while silently cursing Christian for putting me on the spot like this.
What place in D.C. makes sense for a menswear shoot?
“You said it was an old warehouse somewhere,” Christian prompted.
Clarity dawned in an instant.
There was an old industrial building on the fringes of the city that I’ve shot at a few times. It was a bustling factory until the 1980s, when the owner moved his headquarters to Philadelphia. In the absence of new owners, the building fell into disrepair and became overgrown with weeds and ivy.
It was a trek to get there, but the contrast of green against old steel provided a striking backdrop for photoshoots, especially luxury ones.
How does Christian know about that?
“Right.” I released a small breath and smiled at Luisa. “It doesn’t have an actual address, but I’m happy to show you or a team member how to get there if that’s something you’re interested in.”
She tapped her nails against the table in thought. “It’s very possible. Do you have sample photos?”
I pulled up some of my old photos and showed them to Luisa, whose eyebrows popped up with approval.
“Oh, those are gorgeous. Can you send them to me? I have to show them to our scout…”
My heart skipped when Luisa gave me her cell number so I could text her the link, but when I looked up, the thrill evaporated at the sight of Raya and Adam whispering furiously to each other while casting side glances in my direction.
Anxiety buzzed beneath my skin like a swarm of bees.
Those whispers brought me back to my middle school days when everyone giggled and talked behind their hands when I walked into a room. I’d hit my growth spurt early, and at age thirteen, I’d been tall, skinny, and awkward enough to be an easy target for bullies.
I’ve since grown into my own skin, but the anxiety had never gone away.
“Why don’t you let us in on your joke?” Christian’s casual request masked a dark undertone that wiped the smiles off Raya’s and Adam’s faces. “It must be a good one.”
“We were talking about something personal.” Raya rolled her eyes, but her expression contained a hint of nerves.
“I see. Next time, refrain from doing so at a public event. It’s disrespectful.” The content of Christian’s rebuke was mild, but he delivered it with such vicious contempt Raya’s face flushed crimson.
Instead of defending his girlfriend, Adam stared down at his plate, his own face pale.
The exchange had been so short and held in such low tones the rest of the table was oblivious. Even Luisa didn’t notice; she was too busy texting someone (probably her location scout).
“Thank you,” I said quietly, wishing I was bold enough to call out Raya myself.
“They were annoying me,” was Christian’s detached answer.
Nevertheless, warmth settled in my stomach and stayed with me through the rest of dinner and the end-of-night goodbyes.
By the time I exited the townhouse half an hour later, I felt marginally better about my ambassadorship chances, but it was far from a sure thing. I was still convinced Luisa favored Raya, no matter what Christian said.
Speaking of whom…
I slid a side glance at him as he fell into step with me. I was staying at a boutique hotel not far from Luisa’s place, but I doubted Christian was staying there as well. He probably had a place in the city; at the very least, he’d stay somewhere like The Carlyle or The Four Seasons, not an eight-room hotel with no designer amenities.
“Are you following me?” I asked lightly as we turned the corner onto a side street.
Christian’s presence dominated the sidewalk, soaking into the shadows and rendering the air around us invincible. So quiet and lethal even the darkness didn’t dare touch him.
“Merely making sure you return to your hotel safe and sound,” he drawled.
“First the car ride the other day, now this. Do you always provide your tenants with such hands-on service?”
A smoky gleam passed through those whiskey eyes and sent heat rushing to my cheeks, but Christian refrained from making the obvious joke.
“No.” Short and simple, delivered with the self-assurance of someone who never had to explain himself.
We walked in silence for another minute before he said, “To answer your earlier question, I know she likes you because I know Luisa. It sounds counterintuitive, but whenever she’s impressed with someone, she puts them on the back burner. She’s more interested in grilling those she’s not sure about.”
I was already so used to his abrupt topic changes I didn’t skip a beat.
“Maybe.” I’ll believe it when I see it, a.k.a. get the deal. “How do you know her so well?”
Luisa was twenty years older than Christian, but that didn’t mean anything. Older women slept with younger men every day. It would explain the way she lit up when she saw him.
A tiny frown creased my forehead for a reason I couldn’t name.
“I’m friends with her nephew. And no, I never slept with her.” A hint of laughter threaded through his voice.
My cheeks blazed hotter, but thankfully, my voice came out cool and even. “Thank you for the information, but I’m not interested in your love life,” I said with a regal tilt of my chin.
“Never said anything about love, Ms. Alonso.”
“Fine, I’m not interested in your sex life.”
“Hmm. That’s a shame.” The hint of laughter intensified.
If he was trying to get a rise out of me, he wouldn’t succeed.
“Only for you,” I said sweetly.
We stopped in front of my hotel. The light from the windows slashed across Christian’s face, casting half of it in shadow. Light and dark.
Two halves of the same coin.
“One more thing.” My breaths formed tiny white puffs in the air. “Why did you show up at dinner tonight?”
It wasn’t to catch up with Luisa; he’d barely spoken to her all night.
A shadow passed through his eyes before it sank beneath the cool amber surface. “I wanted to see someone.”
The words soaked into the pocket of air separating us. I hadn’t realized how close we’d gotten until now.
Leather, spice, and winter. That was all that existed before Christian stepped back and tipped his head toward the hotel entrance. A clear dismissal.
I opened my mouth then closed it before I brushed past him.
It wasn’t until I reached the revolving glass doors that my curiosity overpowered my hesitance.
I turned, half expecting to see Christian already gone, but he remained at the base of the stairs. Dark hair, dark coat, and a face that was somehow even more devastating when partially cloaked in shadow.
“Who did you want to see?”
It was so cold my lungs burned, but still I waited for his answer.
Something amused and dangerous surfaced in his eyes before he turned away. “Good night, Stella.”
The words drifted into my ears after the night had already swallowed him whole.
I exhaled a rough breath and shook off the pinpricks of electricity dotting my skin.
However, thoughts of Christian, Luisa, and even Delamonte vanished when I entered my room, checked my phone, and disaster number four struck.