“You are having one hell of a day, kid.” He laughs. “Someday you might even achieve amazing. See you tonight.”
I roll into the pillow and scream.
Alec returns to the suite just as I’m packing up my purse to leave. Already speaking, he calls out to me, “I saw your email with the story and can read it this evening on my way—” He drops his wallet and room key in the dish by the door and freezes when he sees me about to head out. “Where are you going?”
“Billy invited me to a thing,” I say, still breathless and elated, “and he’s picking me up at my place, and I have to go get a nice dress first.”
Alec’s face falls. “I have a few hours until I need to be at the AP gala. I was hoping we—”
I burst out laughing. “No way.”
Alec frowns. “Yes… way?”
“That’s where I’m going with Billy.”
“We’ll be at the same event?” His shoulders slump, and I immediately understand.
“Without the ability to talk to each other,” I say, nodding. “Or make out in the corner.”
“Get a really ugly dress,” he commands.
“No way, I’m going to get something slutty.”
“Wool turtleneck.”
“Short enough to find religion.” I grin at him. “Imagine the sex we can have later after intensely ignoring each other all night.”
He walks to me, pulling me into a hug. “You’re a horrible tease.”
“It’s why you like me.” I tilt my face up for a kiss, and he delivers a loud smooch.
“It is one of many reasons.” Another kiss and then, “Go. I’ll read your story now.”
Fifteen
In the end, I compromise on the slutty-modest battle. Eden and I find a dress at Neiman Marcus that is floor-length black chiffon but with a deep plunging V neckline that ends just at my solar plexus. The dress is so revealing, in fact, that I’m grateful the lining is very grippy. Without question, 100 percent of the reason I chose this is because of Alec Kim’s appreciation for all things related to my cleavage. Eden and I decide on dangly earrings, hair down, no necklace. I practice walking in Eden’s three-inch heels. Not too bad, but I am not headed for the runway, either.
“Is this what it always feels like to be five-foot-seven?” I ask Eden. “I am drunk with power. The air is thinner up here.”
She laughs. “Let me grab you a purse. You can’t take your enormous hobo.”
“Excuse me,” I call after her, “that hobo is a very convincing Burberry knockoff.”
Eden returns a few seconds later with a sleek—and also very convincing—fake YSL clutch and opens the clasp for me to deposit my phones, keys, hotel room key, and lipstick inside. “Don’t forget the rules.”
I nod dutifully. “Find good lighting. Don’t drink too much. And if I see Chris Evans, I will slip him your number.”
“Try not to stare at Alec all night.”
“No promises.”
She pecks my cheek and steers me to the door when a horn honks at the curb.
Billy makes a valiant effort to not notice my boobs when I climb into the passenger seat. “Good,” is all he says—I assume he’s letting me know my gown is sufficiently formal—and then pulls away from the curb.
While we drive, I update him on the basics of the piece, and his excitement shows in the white of his knuckles as he grips the steering wheel tighter and tighter. “When can we push it?”
“I’d like to get the okay from Mr. Kim for the portion related to his tip.”