CHAPTER SEVEN

Manhattan, New York
One week later

RILEY WAS IN her element. She walked around her desk, flipping through the report that Korey, her assistant, had just handed her.

“These projections are off.” She glanced across the page to the end of each row, then down to the bottom to get the totals. Numbers were Riley’s nirvana. She’d always been able to gather and analyze data fast and accurately. A talent that had guided her decision to focus on market research within the company.

“Which is probably why Sigmund has been calling every day since he sent them over. I don’t know how many times I had to tell him that you were on vacation.”

Korey was a recent college graduate with an eye for detail and excellent fashion sense. Today he wore black slacks, suede shoes and a black button-front dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Normally that look proved too casual and just slightly messy for Riley, but Korey made it appear classic.

“Get him on the phone. He has to do better. We’re paying him too much money and we’ve got way too much riding on this for him to flake on us now.”

“No problem. Let’s see, it’s about seven in the morning his time, but he should be up.”

Riley flipped back to the first page and paused when her stomach made an unruly sound.

“Or should I wait until after you’ve ordered some dinner?”

Korey also thought he was a comedian.

Riley turned to him ready to frown, but her stomach made the sound again and she felt the beginnings of a headache. Crap!

She turned her wrist and looked at her watch. It was almost seven. She’d been in the office since six this morning and her last meal had been at noon.

You need to make time to take care of yourself. Eat. Rest. Live outside this office.

The words rolled through her mind as if her mother were standing right in front of her. Marva Gold was a stern but loving mother. She’d had to be to raise four children—three boys and one girl—in the shadows of the glitz and glamorous world of fashion. She was also the commanding force behind the Gold Foundation, which provided scholarships and other programs for marginalized youth throughout the US.

“Schedule a call for first thing tomorrow morning. I want to speak with him before my meeting with RJ. We have huge orders for this collection and if he hears Sigmund isn’t sure how many of those orders he can fill on time, he’s gonna flip.”

Riley circled back to her desk and sat in her custom-made ergonomic chair. Two years ago during an annual physical, her doctor mentioned how much she worked, and when she hadn’t been able to promise to cut down, he’d suggested she make work as comfortable as possible. A chair that didn’t have her back and neck aching every day was an improvement. Not a big enough one, but at least she was trying.

“Does that mean we’re getting out of here before nine tonight?”

“Is that a complaint I hear?” Riley didn’t bother to look up. She’d dropped the report on her desk and immediately started looking at the sketches that had been scanned into the presentation for tomorrow’s meeting. These were the designs that would be featured in her segment of their first show of Fashion Week. RJ and the rest of the production team would be studying them for the umpteenth time tomorrow. Then they’d look at the models wearing the gowns and make the final decision for which ones would be in the show. Nervous didn’t quite explain how she was feeling right now.

“Not a one,” Korey continued. He held his tablet in one hand and typed as he sat in the chair across from her desk. Probably sending Sigmund an email about tomorrow’s phone conference.

“But I was thinking I could probably make it to at least drinks for the dinner party I’d planned to attend.”

She did look up at him then.

“Why didn’t you say something? You didn’t have to stay here with me tonight. I could have managed without you.” Despite her reputation, Riley was not coldhearted and she didn’t treat people like they were trash or beneath her.

She was friendly and easy to work with. At least, that was what Korey said after being here almost six months. The two of them had hit it off during the interview, on a day that had begun horribly for Riley. The fact that Korey had been able to make her laugh and focus on something else besides whatever headline had been floating around at that time sealed his fate as her new assistant.

He was essentially the closest thing she had to a friend.

“Nope, my job is to be here when you’re here and it pays me well.” Korey finished the email and looked up at her with a pointed smile.

Riley grinned but then sighed as her temples throbbed. “I need an aspirin.”

“Maybe you need to have dinner and go to bed. We’ve been in the office past nine every night since you came back from Milan.”

“It’s crunch time.” That was the excuse she’d been giving herself these past seven days each time thoughts of that night in Milan crossed her mind.

“True.”

She’d expected him to say more, but instead he continued to stare at her.

“What?”

He shrugged. “I’m just debating where the line is at this moment.”

Because she knew what he was referring to, Riley gave him a reassuring look. “You’re safe.”

Korey looked relieved as he leaned forward, resting an elbow on his knee. “What happened in Milan? You left focused and intent but came back a little...off.”

“What?” Panic sliced through her with a sharp edge. “I’m the exact same.”

Korey’s hands were up immediately, waving back and forth. “No. No. Not in a bad way. Absolutely not, you’re always on point. Always. There’s just a little difference. Like how quickly you were able to admit you’ve been here too long tonight. If this were last month you would have been determined to push through.”

Milan hadn’t changed her.

One night did not make a difference to her life.

“I can admit when I’m tired.” It was the safe reply. “That’s all it is, Korey. So you can go get your drinks. And I don’t care how drunk you get, I want you here tomorrow at six. Not a second later.”

“Now, that’s the prevacation Riley talking.” Korey chuckled and jumped up from his chair because prevacation or not, he knew it was only safe to cross the line temporarily.

“See you in the morning. Have a fun evening.”

Fifteen minutes later she was still sitting in the same spot.

Had she changed because of the night she’d spent with Chaz? Because that was the only thing that had been different about this year’s vacation. After thinking on it another few seconds Riley slammed her palm on the desk and shook her head. It was just sex, damn!

She shut down her computer and grabbed her bag and purse before leaving the office. She wasn’t different. Korey was overreacting, something he did frequently. He was lucky she liked him like a little brother and that he was so organized and knew a great pair of thigh-high boots when he saw them or she would have definitely fired him a thousand times by now.

Minutes later Riley stood at the elevator feeling smug because that last thought sounded much more like her. If she were acting any different, that was. But she wasn’t. Everything was the same as it had been before she’d gone to Milan. All she had to do was keep telling herself that and it would be true.

By the time she made it to the garage Riley was shaking her head. She was pitiful and she hated to admit it. She wasn’t the same since Milan because now she couldn’t get Chaz and the feel of his hands on her body out of her mind. And as if her thoughts weren’t traitorous enough, her phone dinged with a text message notification. When she read the text, saw who it was from, her heartbeat quickened and butterflies danced a happy little jig in her stomach.

Chaz hadn’t been his usual self today.

Or the day before, or even the day before that. In fact, he could admit that he’d been thinking about Milan—or rather a very enjoyable twenty-four hours in Milan—much more than he’d assumed he would.

It wasn’t like he didn’t have anything else to do. Chaz just couldn’t get Riley out of his mind. But when he looked up to see his uncle walking into his office unannounced, he hoped there was some business issue the man needed to discuss that would help Chaz focus on other things.

His uncle began as soon as he sat down. “I heard Ron sent his little girl to Milan to snatch Perry off the market.”

Well, this wasn’t going to go the way Chaz thought it might.

Tobias King was a big man, six feet three-and-a-half inches—two inches taller than Chaz—two hundred and eighty-something pounds. Chaz was only partially guessing. He’d gone to Tobias’s last doctor’s appointment to make sure his uncle’s blood pressure was in check. High blood pressure was a silent killer and with the stress of the company and seven ex-wives, Tobias was always borderline and terribly neglectful when it came to his health.

Now that Chaz was in New York for a while, he would make sure his uncle took better care of himself, even if it meant treating Tobias like he was a child.

“It’s not a big deal,” Chaz replied. “You’ve got a good design team and they’re coming up with fresh and innovative ideas. This men’s collection is going to speak directly to professional millennials and they’re gonna love it.”

Chaz was certain of that fact because he’d spent hundreds of hours researching this demographic and studying the look, price and packaging of their clothes. He’d kept a few employees that were in the branding department when he came, but he’d hired half a dozen more to create a team that would produce quickly and efficiently.

“But she’s a slick one, that Riley. Polished and primped all the time and smart as a whip. I’ve heard her talk at conventions and the rare times she speaks to the press. She’s got her father’s attitude but her mother’s look. A dangerous combination.”

Tobias was going bald but wasn’t quite ready to shave his head, so he kept the remaining hair cut very low. He’d even taken to wearing fitted hats and had designed a collection of them with matching casual jackets. His low-cut beard was white, giving him a distinguished older-gentleman appeal, while his steely deep brown eyes remained as astute as they’d been when he was in his twenties.

“She’s not that bad.” The moment he said those words, Chaz regretted them.

Not actually regret—that was a word Chaz didn’t allow himself to associate with. He believed everything happened for a reason and that when things didn’t go the way he planned, he just had to reconcile himself with that reason. Still, those weren’t the words he’d meant to say and now he’d have to deal with the backlash, which he had no doubt was coming swiftly.

“How do you know how bad she is? Did you run into her while you were in Milan? I hoped you wouldn’t when I found out she was down there.”

“I’ve known Riley for a few years now, Unc.” Chaz had always called him “Unc” instead of Uncle Tobias. It was shorter, and to the nine-year-old who had been grieving his parents when he first came to New York, the less he had to say, the better.

“Yeah, well, this was the first time she’s been direct competition to you.”

Chaz shrugged. “I didn’t go to Milan just to meet up with Perry. And we actually did get a chance to talk. He was meeting with RGF this week but that doesn’t mean he’s officially working for them.”

“Oh, he is. Look at this.” Tobias slammed the fashion magazine onto Chaz’s desk.

It was open to an article naming Perry this year’s hottest and most desired designer. And first on the list of fashion houses Perry wanted to work for was RGF.

“We’re fine. PR’s getting the buzz out about the lines we’re pushing this season and the sales projections are seventy-six percent higher than this time last year.”

Tobias grabbed the brim of his red hat and pulled it off. “It’s gotta work. We’ve gotta get back on top.”

“We will. Don’t worry,” Chaz told him.

Tobias shook his head and walked toward the door. When he turned back, he extended his arm and was waving his hat at Chaz as he talked. “Keep an eye on her. She’s planning something big.”

Chaz didn’t hesitate. “You didn’t bring me here to watch what anybody else is doing. King Designs is in a class by itself and I’m going to make sure nobody forgets that.”

Tobias drew his lips into a tight line and gave a curt nod before leaving Chaz alone. Twenty minutes later when he’d deemed work impossible, Chaz drove his Mercedes GLS back to his apartment. Once he’d showered and changed he sent the text that had been on his mind all damn day.

Have dinner with me.