Your Irresistible Love (The Bennett Family 1)

His brow furrows. “What?”

“Well, I’m okay, I guess. Pretty.”

“You are gorgeous. Just agree with me once, woman.” Leaning into me, he adds, “If you don’t, I’ll kiss you senseless.”

“Okay.” I’m almost out of breath. “I agree with you.”

“See you tonight at the show.”

“You’re coming?” I ask.

“Yeah. What will you wear?”

“I bought a crazy fancy dress. I love it.”

He steps back, freeing me. As I step by him toward the building entrance, he says into my ear, “Wear lace underneath the dress tonight. It turns me on.”

Chapter Twelve

Ava

Crazy fancy is the term for the show, and I’ve been to some fancy events in my life. The location is one of the most famous restaurants in San Francisco, with a beautiful garden surrounding it. Organized mayhem reigns inside. The back of the restaurant has been transformed into a runway with large screens on either side of it. There are no rows of chairs¸ like in a traditional fashion show. Instead, there are round tables scattered in the room. Most tables are for four, but there are some larger ones as well. Still, the place maintains a warm and welcoming feel by having candles on each table.

Looking at the people milling around the room, I grow prouder of my attire with every passing minute. I’m wearing a dark blue sequined designer dress I bought on sale in a boutique downtown that was surprisingly well stocked. They had some mouthwatering dresses from the latest collections, but I only tried on the items they had on sale. I’m saving the bulk of my salary for the down payment on an apartment.

I inspect everything about my surroundings. Part of my job will be to help put together the next collection show. I am pondering what I can do different while maintaining the essence of the show. Of course, Gemma, the event coordinator, can give me all the details about this, but experiencing it firsthand always beats looking at lists and video recordings. I take my time observing the decor, the way people react to it, and to each other, as well as the things—or people—the press is most interested in. The main collection shows always have excellent coverage. All the major fashion magazines, business magazines, and even the occasional lifestyle magazine cover them. I wasn’t expecting so much press for a buyer show, too.

Most of the reporters are still waiting for the show to begin, but several are cornering the guests. Among the cornered ones, I see Logan and Pippa. She doesn’t seem to mind the spotlight, even though her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. Logan looks downright annoyed as the reporter throws question after question at him. A few feet away, I recognize the party brothers from the pictures I saw from the last show. God, this family has some extraordinary genes.

Logan joins me a few minutes later. “Ava, you look great.”

“Thank you. Is the press done with you?”

“Ah, if they had it their way, they’d never be done.” Shaking his head, he puts his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know why I’m always surprised that they can’t talk to our PR people and leave me and my family alone.”

“Speaking of family,” I say as nonchalantly as possible, “where is Sebastian?”

Logan raises his eyebrows. “He’s not coming. At least, he hasn’t told me he is.”

My shoulders slump, and I try my best not to look too disappointed, but I’m not fooling Logan.

“Did he tell you something else?” he asks.

I give a noncommittal shrug and excuse myself, mumbling that I need to find my table. Why am I so disappointed? It’s as though he promised he’d be here.

I was so eager to see him, though. I’m wearing lace underwear, like he asked me to. I mentally slap myself. I’m wearing the lace for me. I look for anyone else I might recognize, to take my mind off Sebastian. I spot the marketing department sitting at one of the larger tables, and wave at them. Martha sits with them. They are finally starting to warm up to her.

I’m heading to them when I feel my phone vibrate in my tiny purse.

I take it out, and my stomach jolts as I read the text message.

There is a room to the left of the bar. Get inside.

It’s from Sebastian.

I drop the phone carefully in my bag, looking over my shoulder as if I’m preparing for a clandestine mission. Giddy with anticipation, I stride toward the bar, eyeing the door Sebastian meant. It’s flanked by a massive bodyguard, but he gives me a once-over as I approach and opens the door for me.

“Get inside. Quick,” the man booms. Taking a deep breath, I glance over my shoulder one last time, then step inside the room. It’s small but elegant, with a tiny table with a selection of the food available outside for the guests. A champagne bottle rests on it, along with two glasses. A giant window on the wall overlooks the restaurant, but I realize at once, it’s a one-way glass. It looked like a mirror from the other side.