Ask Me (Mess with Me 2)

Andre

I’m THAT guy. The one women want and other men want TO BE.

Arrogant? Maybe.

Accurate? Abso-F’ing-lutely.

So when my brother dares me to hit on women as a regular guy, I’m up for the challenge. It turns out quite a few ladies like ripped jeans just as much as haute couture. Except for one. Cassandra. Nothing I do impresses this girl which only makes me want her more. For the first time, I’m smitten.

Until she ditches me after a night of intense passion.

* * *

Casey

If it’s possible to screw up a good thing, I’m the girl who’ll figure out how. So when I get a new job, I celebrate with one last night of fun before focusing on climbing the corporate ladder.

Until my night of fun walks into the office and I discover who he really is. My firm’s biggest client and my new nightmare.

Egotistical, entitled and infuriating, Andre Lavin is not making it easy for me to ignore him. In a battle of wills, we’ll see who can hold out the longest.

And who is still standing at the end.

* * *

ASK ME is the kind of outrageous romantic comedy that will have you clutching your pearls and laughing until you cry! This standalone romance features crossover characters from the USA TODAY bestselling book BEG ME.

the question

* * *

I’m that guy.

Yeah, you know the one I’m talking about. The kind women want and other men want to be. Not that I’m complaining, far from it. This is a charmed life I lead. But there are sacrifices. Anonymity. Privacy. Love.

Things that I didn’t know to value highly when I had them.

Don’t take that as a complaint, by the way. My life is a steady stream of… whatever the hell I want, actually. Trips around the world, priceless jewels, fast cars, and even faster women.

But lately, I’ve had more questions than answers. Not to sound too hipster but I just want more. More of what exactly, I’m not sure. Perhaps I’m just trying to understand this circle of life we’re all caught in. We wake up, only to work long hours, to eat, sleep and then do it all over again. Friends drift away, family betrays family and then you kick it and leave the results of all your hard work to someone else.

What’s the point of all this?

.

.

.

Oh, you’re waiting for me to give you an answer? You thought this was why you were here, huh? For me to pull you close, whisper in your ear and tell you all the secrets of success?

Well, I can’t do that. Not that I don’t want to. I’d show you where the keys to the castle were hidden if I knew. But I don’t. Haven’t you figured that out yet? That’s why we’re both here.

Because I don’t fucking know.

1

* * *

Aesthetics are everything. Yes, we’ve all heard the usual drivel. What is it that people always say?

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Beauty is only skin deep.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but those people are liars. After all, I’ve never seen anyone at a beauty pageant put the crown on a sweet personality.

No, it’s what’s on the outside that counts in this cutthroat world and we’ve turned the pursuit of beauty into a cross-cultural obsession. Humanity has always appreciated beauty, this is true, but never before have we made it so socially acceptable to crave it. In the past it was considered a sin to covet attractiveness but now people livestream going to the plastic surgeon’s office to get a nose job. It’s trendy to chase beauty.

And I would know all about it. I’m famous for creating the trends the world loves to chase.

My eyes move around the room without really taking any of it in. All I get is an impression of opulence, high ceilings, glittering chandeliers and soft light. The scene could easily come from a movie. The ballroom in the hotel is the height of elegance with marble floors and tall doors leading out to balconies that overlook the gardens. Waiters roam the crowd offering all manner of culinary delights and an endless stream of champagne. I’m surrounded by beauty.

Too bad I couldn’t give less than a damn about any of it.

A man steps into my path and holds out his hand to shake. “Mr. Lavin. Pleasure to see you here. I’m Timothy Armand.”

Not given much of a choice, I accept the handshake with resignation. It was foolish to think that I’d get a few moments alone to gather my thoughts before the wolves descended. The man is young with light brown hair slicked back with far too much pomade and is wearing a black suit that is definitely off-the-rack. The sleeves are slightly too short and the inseam is so high I’m surprised he’s not a soprano by now.

“Sir, your last collection was transcendent. I’m a designer, too. Right now I work for Posture, an up-and-coming fashion blog. Would you be willing–”

I paste on a smile. “All interview requests need to go through my assistant. Call the office and we’ll get you scheduled.” After a quick pat on the back, I leave him still stammering after me.

Everyone at the 22nd annual International Fashion World Gala is wearing one of a kind creations designed to showcase their skill and creativity. I recognize most of the other attendees as either my colleagues, competitors or models who work frequently in the industry. Our community is a small but competitive one and it’s important to know your environment. If this event had been for any other organization, I would have skipped it and spent the night romancing a bottle of scotch.

Tonight, I’m wearing a traditional tuxedo however instead of silk or satin on the lapels, I used feathers. Each one is hand stitched to create the effect of wings. The theme for tonight’s gala is “Animal Instincts” and some of my peers have taken it quite seriously. A woman glides by wearing a bodycon dress that is so tight its panther design looks like her skin color. I turn slightly to watch her progress and then have to hold in a laugh when I see the ribbon around her waist has been braided in the back to mimic a panther’s tail.

Interesting.

This is the part that keeps me coming back. I live for the ingenuity and creativity fashion design is known for. It’s what kept me going when no one knew who I was or cared. I was fortunate to come from a wealthy family but with wealth often comes certain expectations. Fashion is not the career my parents would have chosen and in the beginning they didn’t even pretend to hide their disappointment. They came around later but the early days were rough.

This is not an easy business to enter without a support system.

I turn and catch sight of the young man I met earlier. Timothy. He’s standing alone and looking around the room with trepidation. He doesn’t appea

r to know anyone here. My mind flashes back to the first time I attended this gala. No one made the effort to make me feel welcome either.

Damn it.

I grab another flute of champagne from a passing waiter. Timothy’s eyes spark as I approach.

“Don’t get discouraged if no one will talk to you. They didn’t talk to me either when I first arrived on the scene ten years ago. Most of the people I met were twats, actually.”