Текст книги "Emerald"

Автор книги: K. A. Linde

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

IT WAS NOT A NORMAL NIGHT IN THE CITY.

It never was when she had friends in town.

And it definitely was not going to be a normal night with Preston seated next to her in the cab on their way to the Meatpacking District.

She couldn’t keep from stealing glances at him. Mostly, it was because she couldn’t figure out how she had gotten up the nerve to invite him along. She never brought guys to these kinds of events. Plenty of other models would bring dates, but that just wasn’t her. But these were her people, and the only other people she wanted associating with them were family and friends, like Lydia and Renée.

Yet she was about to throw Preston into the middle of this. What the hell am I doing?

The cab stopped at the corner of a large brick building, and before she could do anything, Preston paid for the trip.

“Thank you,” she said as she got out of the car.

“Don’t worry about it.” His smile was genuine when he exited behind her. “Are you going to tell me what I’m walking into?”

“I have some friends in town. They’re throwing a little…party.” She cocked her head to the side and tried not to smile too broadly.

“A house party?” he asked dubiously.

“More like a…work party,” she confided. She opened a heavy metal door. “Coming?”

He followed along, clearly intrigued. “And where do you work? The studio?”

She shook her head. “No, I just dance at the studio. I don’t work anywhere right now. I kind of quit.”

“And you still decided to come to the party?” His eyes widened in disbelief.

“It was an amicable break.”

In truth, it was only sort of amicable. She had quit modeling because she was going to college. She had always seen school as a priority as a forward-thinking woman who wanted to make a splash in the world and prove her worth.

He laughed. “Publishing is not like that.”

“You work in publishing?” she asked as they started up the rickety old stairs that creaked under their steps, bringing a smile to her face.

“Yeah, I’m an intern in the marketing department of Glitz magazine.”

Trihn stumbled on the next step and had to catch herself on the railing. Preston reached out to steady her, but she waved him off.

“Glitz magazine?” she asked.

He ducked his chin to his chest, embarrassed. “Yeah. I know it’s a fashion magazine, but internships are hard to come by in publishing, especially while I’m still in school.”

He sounded like he had given this same speech many times, as if he were used to being judged as a man working for a high-end fashion magazine. Well, she didn’t care that he worked for Glitz. In fact, her feminist ideals were screaming with joy at the knowledge. The fashion industry should be more balanced between men and women, especially in the world of fashion and beauty publishing.

However, the real reason she had stumbled was because her mother worked for Glitz magazine. It felt strangely coincidental, and she almost jotted out a text to ask if her mother had purposely put Preston in her path. She wouldn’t put it past her mother. Like Lydia, she believed Trihn was too serious for her age. You would think that she would want at least one daughter to behave.

But looking up at Preston’s concerned face changed Trihn’s mind. She was just being jumpy. The likelihood that her mother had put him up to this was abysmally low. Her mother probably didn’t even know anyone in the marketing department. She was certainly too high up on the food chain to notice a guy in an entry-level position.

Trihn probably should tell him that her mom worked there, but she kind of wanted to have him all to herself in that moment. She had just met him really. Revealing that her mom was a higher-up at the magazine he worked at would not be a good idea. Either he’d freak out or want to somehow use her to move up in the company.

God, she was having negative thoughts. She just wanted this one night to herself without anyone else’s expectations looming over her.

Trihn held her hand up to stop him from continuing. “You don’t have to explain. I get it. Everyone has to start somewhere.”

“Right,” he agreed. He seemed pleased that she hadn’t questioned him. “So, where did you start?”

She raised her eyebrow. “You’ll see.”

They had reached their floor, and she walked him over to the door that led to the party. She knocked twice, and then the door opened. A familiar face smiled back at her.

“Trihn!” Francesca cried. “I knew you couldn’t resist us!”

“Of course I couldn’t,” she said. Trihn enveloped the woman in a hug, knowing that she wasn’t the hugging type.

Francesca patted her on the back. When she saw Trihn had someone with her, her eyes widened. “Well, well, who do we have here?”

Preston turned into a perfect gentleman in the blink of an eye. He straightened, becoming markedly taller than Francesca’s six-foot-tall frame, and stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you. I’m Preston Whitehall.”

She lightly took his hand in hers and winked. “Oh, the pleasure is all mine. And you can call me whatever you’d like. I don’t discriminate with someone who has a body like this.”

Trihn buried her head in her hands. “He’s here with me, Francesca.”

“Oh, dear!” she said, removing her hand. “I thought you’d brought me a present.”

“Not tonight, I’m afraid,” Trihn said.

“Well, come in, and enjoy the party. Tell me everything! We’ve missed you.”

Trihn and Preston crossed the threshold into a massive open studio with floor-to-ceiling glass windows across one entire wall. Large wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling, and huge white columns were interspersed across the antique hardwood floor. Everything was white and cheery and full of beautiful people.

“A studio party?” Preston asked curiously, taking in their surroundings. He gave her a serious side eye. “What kind of work were you in exactly?”

Francesca derisively arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow and flipped her stick-straight blonde hair over her shoulder. “Surely you know how talented our little Trihn is. She could have been a superstar if she had just forgotten this silly idea about going to university.” Her South African accent became more prominent the longer she spoke to Preston.

Trihn had to hide her embarrassment at Francesca’s words.

“Please, feel free to enlighten me.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, and Trihn couldn’t help but stare. Even though gorgeous people surrounded them, her eyes were only for him and the very sexy muscles in his arms.

Whoa! Arms. She should stop staring at those arms.

She looked back up into his eyes and could feel a blush touching her cheeks. For once, she was happy for her mixed Vietnamese and Brazilian ancestry that hid the red on her cheeks.

“He knows nothing?” Francesca asked Trihn.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“A surprise indeed,” she trilled. “We just wrapped up a modeling shoot this afternoon for Gucci. Perhaps you’ve heard of the designer. Now, we’re toasting our last night in New York before I begin on a new grand adventure that I’ll have to tell you all about later.”

“Gucci?” Preston’s eyes widened.

“Yep,” Trihn agreed. “I worked for them on their summer line. The shoot today was for their fall line.”

“That unfortunately you were not a part of,” Francesca chastised.

“You’re a model?” Preston asked Trihn, as if he didn’t have the proof right before his eyes.

“I was a model,” Trihn corrected him.

“I would never have pegged you for a model.”

“What does that mean?” she asked indignantly.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said quickly. “You’re beautiful. Of course you could model.”

Trihn felt her body coiling into a knot of tension. Beautiful, of course—she hadn’t needed those words from him. She knew that it wasn’t an insult. It was anything but an insult. However, everyone said she was beautiful. The term was almost an afterthought. But she hated the idea of anyone saying she couldn’t do something she’d put her mind to.

“I guess I’ve only seen the ballerina,” he confessed.

“Well, look closer,” Francesca said. She pointed to Trihn’s feet. “Those are Christian Louboutin. No satin-toe shoes for her.”

“So they are.” He wasn’t looking at her shoes though. His eyes were transfixed on her face. “Seems I have a lot to learn about you.”

Trihn laughed, trying to brush aside the butterflies in her stomach at the mention of him wanting to get to know her—not to mention, that look…like he wanted to eat her right up. “Well, we have all night.”

“So we do.” With the way he’d said it, the words took on a whole new meaning.

“Come on, lovebirds, let’s get drinks,” Francesca said, guiding them across the room.

She busied herself with introducing them to everyone as they traversed the room. Preston smiled and nodded, as if he were going to remember any of the people they’d passed.

Trihn started whispering into his ear the name of the countries the people were from, “Australia. Brazil. California.”

“California isn’t a country.”

She laughed. “It might as well be if you’re from New York.”

He guffawed at her comment and covered it by putting his hand on the small of her back, directing her toward the drinks. “Excuse me, California,” he said with a completely straight face to the busty blonde model in front of them.

“Oh my gosh, you did not just call her California. Do you know who that is?”

He shook his head. “The only person in this room I care about is you,” he breathed into her ear.

Trihn shivered against his touch. Well, this is off to a good start.

She was an idiot for not calling him. He was hot and smart and caring. He worked in publishing—in her industry, no less. Plus, those arms and lips and smile and—

Preston passed her a glass of wine, and he took a beer from the bartender. Then, they milled around the room, talking to people she had worked for earlier this year. It was easy to move back into the swing of things with these people, even with Preston at her side. She had never thought it would be this seamless, but Preston fit right in.

By the end of the night, her girlfriends were enamored with him, the guys were asking him about his workout regimen and promising to get together for gym dates—which she assured him was not entirely what he was thinking—and Trihn found herself completely in thrall with him.

He took her by the hand and pulled her out onto the mostly empty balcony. He twirled her around in place. She laughed and rose onto her tiptoes, spinning in place like a perfect ballerina, before being drawn into his arms.

“This was fun. You seemed worried at first,” he told her.

“I’ve never brought anyone to a model event with me besides my sister and my best friend,” she confessed.

“I’m honored,” he said, leaning his head against her forehead.

A spark ignited in her stomach as she swam in the sea of blue before her.

Everything narrowed down to this one moment—the look in his eyes, the feel of his hands sneaking under her shirt and grasping her skin, the energy igniting between them, their breaths intermingling in the small distance separating their bodies.

She felt herself freeze.

This wasn’t some fling that she would cast aside for the next hottie at a different shoot. This wasn’t some guy she’d make out with in a club after a good drink. This wasn’t a mistake.

This felt right, inexplicably right, in a way she had never felt before.

Their noses touched. She slid her hands up around his neck, drawing him closer. She wanted this. It wasn’t because she was listening to everyone around her, telling her to have a good time, to let herself get lost in something, not to be serious. It was because he made her serious nature seem normal. He made her feel…

That was enough for now. It didn’t have to be more. Just the promise of a beginning.

Their lips slid together, and the entire world disappeared completely, utterly falling away into some other universe. Her heart rushed into her throat, and her whole body contracted at the feel of him pressing against her. His tongue slipped invitingly against her bottom lip, and she opened the invitation with zeal, meeting him halfway. They moved against each other with practiced ease. Her whole body trembled with the heat and desire coursing through her.

Right then, she had never wanted anything more than this kiss. It was both tempting and terrifying because she felt as if she would give up everything to have this again.

As he leaned her against the railing, promising her the world with this kiss, the biggest cost she worried about was her heart.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, you don’t like peanut butter?” Preston asked a week and a half later.

They both stared into the glass counter filled with an array of gorgeous pastries of every variety—cupcakes, cake, macarons, tarts, cheesecake, cookies. The list was endless.

“I don’t like it,” she told him. “I never have.”

“I can’t comprehend this.”

She laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s gross. I don’t even like the smell. So, if you think that I’m going to kiss you after you eat that, you’re crazy.”

He took the peanut butter–chocolate chip cupcake on a small paper plate from the woman and gave Trihn puppy-dog eyes. “I bet I could convince you otherwise.”

“No way.” Trihn wrinkled her nose.

“I have my ways.”

She laughed lightly and then spoke to the employee, “I’ll take a mocha fudge cupcake, please.”

She was handed her cupcake as well, and then they went to the register. Preston insisted on paying for the treats. He grabbed two plastic forks, and then they walked outside to find a bench to indulge themselves.

“Even though you hate my choice in dessert,” he said, pretending to be wounded, “this is for you. Congrats on your dance performance last night. I only wish that I could have been there to see it.”

Preston toasted Trihn with his cupcake, and they both dug in.

Following the model party, she had invited Preston to her Senior Showcase. She hadn’t expected him to be interested in seeing her dance, and she hated admitting that she had been disappointed that he couldn’t come last weekend. But it was just as unexpected that he was doing something like this for her when he hadn’t been able to make it.

“I would have liked for you to have been there, too,” she told him after she finished off her cupcake.

“If only I wasn’t such an overachiever, then I could have made it.”

She held her hand up. “Overachieving, I am very familiar with.”

“The model ballerina?” he asked skeptically.

“Hey now! Modeling and ballet, dance in general, are very strenuous. Anyway, I’m quitting both to pursue a degree in fashion design at one of the best schools in the country.” She didn’t mention how much it pained her to give them up, but it was the right thing to do. She needed to focus on her education to get the kind of job she had always dreamed bout.

“While I’m glad you’re coming to NYU, why does it sound like that’s not what you want?”

She sighed heavily and avoided his knowing blue gaze. He was seeing right through her bravado.

“It’s not that. I guess I just always thought that dance would be a part of my life. I’ve only been modeling for three years, but it also kind of seemed like something I wouldn’t stop until I was too old for the market,” she said with a sad smile.

“Then, why stop?” he asked, his cupcake forgotten.

“I don’t want to stop, but I’ll need to take my studies seriously. I need to place at the top of the fashion design program. I want to design for Bergdorf Goodman and open my own boutique on Fifth Avenue. I can’t do those things and—”

“Have a life?” he ventured.

“Exactly.”

“You sound like you put way too much pressure on yourself.”

She shrugged. “Maybe, but it was how I was raised. Plus, my sister is a mega genius, one of those people who doesn’t have to try at anything. Hard to live up to that.”

Preston bridged the distance between them and laced their fingers together. “You don’t have to live up to anyone. Just look at you. You’re gorgeous and smart and driven, and you seem pretty awesome to me.”

Her cheeks heated. “You’ve only known me for a week.”

“And I’ve seen all of that in a week,” he said confidently.

“Well, thank you.”

“My father works in investing,” he said after a silent minute. “He always expected me to do something like that. One day, I just decided that it wasn’t for me. I don’t ever want to do something for expectations. I want to earn my place in life because it’s what I want, not what someone else wants. He wasn’t exactly happy that I’d started working for a fashion magazine. But I think he’s going to come around and realize that I go after what I want.” He purposefully looked up at her. “And when I have my mind set on something, I’ll do anything to keep it.”

Trihn bit her lip. “Why do I feel like we’re not talking about work anymore?”

“Because we’re not.”

Then, he kissed her.

It didn’t matter that they were seated on the side of a crowded street in New York City, making a spectacle of themselves. All that was there in that moment was the feel of his lips on hers, the way her heart stuttered to life, and the dizzy feeling clouding her mind.

When he pulled back, he was smirking.

“What?” she asked, flustered.

“I told you I had my ways to get you to kiss me.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” she told him with a shake of her head.

Are you still coming by for our afternoon coffee? I have to get back upstairs soon.

Trihn sighed heavily when she got the text message from Preston. She’d had every intention of meeting up with him for coffee after his meeting with his boss, but Lydia was taking forever. Trihn had agreed to have lunch with her sister since her plans with Preston had been disrupted. It wasn’t often that Lydia had lunch open at a decent time with her new job anyway. Trihn had thought it would be easy to juggle both, but she hadn’t told Lydia about Preston yet, so she couldn’t exactly rush her without raising suspicion.

Lydia finally put her fork down and called for a waiter to bring them a check. Trihn breathed out in relief. She might still make it.

Yes. Just finishing up lunch with my sister. Sorry.

Lydia put her credit card in the black booklet.

Trihn tried to stop her. “Ly, you seriously don’t have to pay for my lunch.” She furtively glanced down at her phone to check the time…again.

“Don’t worry about it. I can see you’re in a hurry.”

“What?” Trihn asked, looking up. “No, I’m not.”

“Well, if you aren’t, then you’re acting really weird.”

“I’m not acting weird either.”

Lydia snorted. “Okay.”

Trihn’s phone beeped again.

No worries. Just wanted to see you.

“So,” Lydia said, “who is he?”

“Who is whom?” she asked.

Her eyes met her sister’s across the table. Lydia gave her an all-knowing look.

“It’s just Renée.”

“Uh-huh.” Lydia rolled her eyes. “I got the check. You run along and tell me about him later.”

Trihn stood up from her seat and shook her head. “Seriously, it’s no one.”

“You act as if I don’t know my sister.”

“I love you, Ly,” Trihn said. She kissed the top of her sister’s head and then began jogging out of the restaurant.

“I want the dirt later,” Lydia cried as she left.

Trihn hopped on the subway and took the train uptown to Preston’s building. Trihn had been to Glitz magazine headquarters more times than she could count throughout the last eight years since her mother had become the executive vice president of the company. It was strange, being on her way there for something…someone else.

She jogged to get there in time, and she was thankful that she had opted for her studded gold flats. Pedestrians gave her evil glares when they managed to look up from their cell phones.

And there he was, waiting for her in a crisp black suit.

A smile plastered itself onto her face at the sight of his dark blond hair and characteristic smirk.

His eyes found her across the short distance on the sidewalk, and he moved toward her like a magnet. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey,” she whispered.

His hands fell to either side of her face, and he softly kissed her on the lips. It was intoxicating. She could do this all day. Her stomach dropped out from under her. All she could do was clutch on to him and hope that she would stay standing, despite the fact that he was turning her legs to mush.

He broke the spell and gestured for them to walk into the Starbucks inside the building.

“Sorry about lunch. I thought we would be done sooner,” she told him.

“That’s all right. Just trying to steal more of your time.”

“I don’t mind that at all.”

He charmingly smiled down at her, and she felt that now familiar flutter in her stomach. She had to force herself to look away to avoid getting completely blinded by him.

They ordered their drinks, picked them up from the barista, and then walked back into the building. Trihn stealthily looked around the lobby. The last thing she wanted was to run into her mother. She rarely took lunch out unless she had important meetings, but it still made Trihn cautious.

Preston put his free arm around her waist and leaned into her. “Don’t make plans for lunch tomorrow.”

“I’m all yours.”

“I like the sound of that.” He dragged her against him for another heart-stopping kiss. “I’m not ready for you to leave. Come up, and see the office.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you have to get back to work?”

“Of course I’m sure. It’ll only be a minute.”

“All right. Then, yes!”

Trihn followed him to the elevators. She was excited to see where he spent much of his life. If he wasn’t with her, then he was guaranteed to be working. She was glad that they had started having lunch together nearly every day because most of his nights were occupied. He took overachiever to a whole new level.

The elevator opened onto his floor, and Preston whisked them by an oblivious receptionist. He walked Trihn past a giant wall with the Glitz magazine logo and into the immaculate office space beyond. Nearly every space was occupied with white cubicles. Most of them were empty from the lunch hour, and only a few people had trickled back in already. All-glass meeting rooms were in use across one far wall, and the other wall opened up to the New York City skyline beyond.

“And this,” he said dramatically, “is my desk.”

Trihn giggled. It looked just like every other cubicle on the floor. “Very nice.”

“Seriously, this is where the magic happens.”

“I like it.”

“One day, I’ll be up there,” he said, plopping down into his seat.

“In the sky?” she joked.

“With the bigwigs, making the decisions.”

Trihn bit her lip. “Very ambitious of you.”

“You sound disbelieving.”

“I’m not,” she said earnestly. “If I can become a successful fashion designer, then why can’t you run a fashion magazine?”

He smiled in a way that said she completely understood. And she did. She knew what it felt like to want to make it to the top. She had felt that all her life. Between ballet, modeling, Lydia…all she had ever done was strive to be the best.

Preston grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto his lap. His hands circled her waist as he stared up at her. “You get it.”

“I get that you’d give my designs all the best placements in the magazine,” she joked to defuse the heat radiating between them.

“Oh, you think you’d get special treatment, do you?” he asked.

He trailed a row of soft kisses down her neck, and she shivered all over.

“Absolutely.”

“You might just be right.” He nipped her neck.

Her shivers turned into a full-blown shudder at his touch. She turned her face toward him, and their lips met. His tongue slid into her mouth, and her hands wrapped around his neck. Where they were and what they were doing didn’t seem to matter at that moment.

Then, someone cleared his throat behind them. “Well, what do we have here?”

Trihn jumped up like a shot of electricity had rushed through her. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized immediately.

Preston stood hastily and brushed down his suit. “Sorry about that, Mr. Brown.”

Crap. His boss.

“I was just leaving,” Trihn said awkwardly.

“Perhaps Mr. Whitehall can escort you out, as he should have earlier.”

“Yes, sir,” Preston said quickly.

Trihn hastened her steps back toward the elevators with Preston on her heels. She stared down at her feet as she waited for the door to open. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble with your boss.”

“Hey,” he said, tilting her chin up, “I’m not in trouble. Even if I were, it would be worth it to have a few extra minutes with you.”

She couldn’t help the smile from blossoming on her face.

“Lunch tomorrow?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”