Haute Couture Page 13

  And I feel glorious.

  Waking up with her in my arms, makes me feel like I’m on top of the world. And yes, I know that’s a cliché, but this is a fucking cliché moment.

  And now that it’s Monday, we part for the day, as I drop her off at HC Headquarters. She’s got loads of work left to do for the magazine.

  “I’ll pick you up later, babe. Call me if you need anything,” I say.

  She frowns. “Jaxson, I really don’t want to go back home yet.”

  I run my thumb along her cheek. “I know, you can stay with me as long as you need to.”

  “But my clothes, Truffles’ toys—”

  “What can I do to help?”

  Her face brightens. “Would you mind going to Chateau De Grenelle, to pick up a few things for me? I’ll text you a list of what I need. I’m pretty organized so you should find everything with ease.”

  Without hesitation I say yes and then Lauren hands me the keys. “Thank you, sweetie. I lo”—she pauses—“I appreciate it.”

  Did I almost hear an I love you?

  “You’re welcome.” I lean in and kiss her. “Anything for you.”

  Then I watch her prance into the building, her body making me internally scream hey, don’t leave yet.

  Yep, I’m falling.

  Chapter 31

  Lauren

  “Look at you, you’re glowing. Girl didn’t I tell you that a good bad boy would rock your world?” says Arabella via our FaceTime chat.

  I couldn’t resist calling her as soon as I walked into my office. I even danced in the elevator. I’m that happy. Spending the weekend with Jaxson was like a dream.

  I rub my cheek, as if I can remove the flush from my skin. “He is not a bad boy. He’s sweet, patient, loving—”

  “Girl, how many times did he make you scream his name? By the looks of that glow, I’d guess at least a dozen times.” She laughs, knowing I’m the last person to talk about sex.

  “Arabella, stop. You know I’m at the office. Anyway, sorry I haven’t called this weekend. I was…a little tied-up.”

  Her mouth flies open. “Is he one of those types?”

  I shake my head. “You need to stop. Now tell me, how was your weekend? You said Parker had planned a dinner for you two, so fill me in.”

  Arabella rubs moisturizer on her face and blinks into the screen. “He dumped me.”

  “What?” I sit up in my seat, eyes wide.

  “Yep. He said he now has political aspirations and really can’t be involved with a socialite anymore. He needs someone who is less in the spotlight and more into being a housewife.”

  My shoulders sink, “Arabella I am so—”

  She gives a dismissive wave of her hand. “Honey, please. For some reason, I am so damn relieved. And I thought I really wanted him to ask me to marry him. Turns out, deep down, I’ve been dying to tell him BoyBye. Anyway, now with the relationship over, I can spend my free time focusing more on my brand image and Royale Beauty.”

  “Speaking of Royale Beauty, I forgot to mention I have saved a spot for you in the magazine. A full-page, sweetheart, so just let me know if you want to advertise your clothing or make up line…or both.”

  Her full lips curve into a smile and she squeals, “OMG. You are a freakin’ doll!! I wish I could just hop through the screen and hug you!”

  But instead, she settles for throwing me a parade of kisses before she finally tells me she’d like to feature clothes and makeup.

  “You got it, love,” I say. “And since you’re not here for an official photo shoot, please email André a mockup page spread of the items you want featured. Include the buy link info so readers can click items and be directed to your online store.”

  She brushes her hair into a high ponytail, winks at me, and says, “Sure thing, love. I’ll be sure to do that in the morning. I’m off to bed now. And don’t call me tonight via FaceTime. You better get yourself some more of that man. We will talk soon. Luv ya.”

  With never-ending photo shoots and meetings, this day has dragged on. Not only is preparing for a magazine launch exciting, it’s also exhausting.

  André, Daniella, and I have been designing the entire magazine layout. Every page has a purpose whether it’s tied to an article or relevant to what readers will see when they turn the page. It tells a story, so to speak, cover-to-cover.

  Still, two things hover over my head, undecided. Who will be on the front cover, and whether or not Antonio Michaels has secured the face of ALLMe.

  I’ve removed myself from that process since I don’t want to sway Jaxson into doing something he doesn’t want to do. I understand him having no interest in re-hashing all of the Dixie Lane drama. What he doesn’t know is, if Antonio pulls the exclusive reveal of ALLMe from the campaign, I may lose my publishing deal. And I won’t dare share that caveat with Jaxson. I need his decision to be unbiased.

  But now, I sit in the conference room, my brain drowning in ideas for the cover.

  “Boss, since the theme of the first issue is Paris in the Rain, why not have a couple kissing in the rain?” suggests André.

  I ponder his suggestion for a moment. “Sounds nice, but I kinda envision Haute Couture magazine covers featuring one single face. The face of a high-fashion model, a stylish politician, a princess—”

  “Why not you?” chimes in Daniella.

  Andrés eyebrows shoot straight up and his mouth goes wide. “Oh, my gosh, boss. She is totally right. Why not have your beautiful face on the cover?”

  I lean back in my chair, shocked at the thought.

  “Yep, it’s your magazine, and my gosh, Lauren, you are so fucking stunning. You’re literally the face of Haute Couture Magazine. It’s only natural the first issue has you on it,” beams a very giddy Daniella.

  See, I knew she’d fit team Haute Couture perfectly.

  I kinda like her idea. In fact, I like it a lot.

  “Okay. I’ll do it,” I say, internally beaming.

  Me? On the cover of a magazine? Who would have thought?

  They both jump up and down, clapping and hugging. They’re like besties now. Which is good because they are practically the same person.

  “When can I schedule your photo shoot, boss? I mean, we are down to the wire. The cover and the ALLMe spread are the only two items pending.”

  I think for a bit, then look at my calendar. “In three days. That’ll give me a chance to decide what I want the backdrop to be and talk with the photographer, etc.”

  André looks at his calendar, circles some dates, then says, “That totally works, boss”—he bites on his pen—“and just so you know, the backdrop for the ALLMe shoot has already been done. Daniella took care of that. All that’s missing is the model. It looks like that shoot has been scheduled in three days as well.” He sighs. “Hopefully, Antonio will be able to confirm his star before then.”

  Chapter 32

  Jaxson

  Lauren is like an addiction. She’s got me suffering from withdrawals, only hours after taking a hit.

  Craving. Needing. Wanting.

  Like she requested, I went over to her place to grab the list of items she wanted me to take back to the villa. Most of it was easy to find, especially since Lauren’s place is super-organized and her closet is color-coded. What else should I have expected from a designer?

  I did have a hard time finding some of Truffles’ toys as many of them were in odd places, like under the bed, under the couch, in the closet, and oddly I found one in the bathtub.

  Jules was as friendly as ever, asking me to say Bonjour! to Lauren and Truffles for him. He helped me carry some items to my car. After explaining to him what happened with Simon, he said he’d tell the landlord not to renew his lease. Personally, I was hoping to run into Simon myself. I would have punched him, then thanked him for being such a dick. Thanks to him being an asshole, I got my forever gal.

  Yep, I went there again.

  Once I made it back home, I called Nana and Gramps
, to check in on them and to also let Gramps know all of the town cars have been sold to another limo company. The two were giddy about the art gallery and their new house. With both not really familiar how FaceTime works, the chat session was pretty hilarious. They also got a kick about me and Lauren, wishing me well and were fascinated that Truffles seemed to know more about FaceTime than they do.

  And my agent Ryan called, looking for my answer. I told him I haven’t made my decision yet. I’m still thinking about it, but my answer will probably be, an emphatic no.

  “Aww, Jaxson sweetie, you got us some soup?” Lauren wraps her arms around my neck and gleams.

  “Yep, after I dropped you off this morning, I asked Jacques to give me some of that soup you love so I can warm some up for dinner,” I say, feeling proud.

  “Oh, you are so damn”—she lays soft kisses on my neck as I run my hands up and down her back—“perfect.”

  We sit at the table, eating the small meal I prepared for us. Soup. Salad. Baguette.

  I even picked out a wonderful bottle of wine for us to sip on.

  “Thanks for picking up my stuff back at my place. I don’t know when I’ll feel like going back. It doesn’t even feel like home to me,” she says, eyes down, whirling the spoon around in her bowl of soup.

  I tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “And does the villa feel like home?” I say, eager to know her response. I know it’s felt more like home to me, with her and Truffles here.

  “Yes,” she says, her eyelashes fanning her face.

  “Then you’re welcome to stay forever, Lauren.”

  We eat in silence, her attention seeming to be occupied perhaps with thoughts about work. I know this time must be stressful for her, as the launch goes live soon.

  “You okay?” I ask, breaking her pensive expression.

  She gives a half-shrug. “Uh, yeah. I’m just thinking about all that has to be done in the coming days. It’s exciting and mentally exhausting.”

  I admit, she does look worn out. And I want to comfort her.

  “How about a bubble bath and then a good night’s sleep, babe? I mean as much as I want to make love, you need your rest.”

  Her eyes dance with mine as she bobs her head, a satisfied grin on her face. “I’d love to take a bubble bath—with you.”

  The bubbles cover our bodies, as I sit behind her, embracing her. The tub is huge, roman-style, otherwise, I’d barely fit. We’ve been basking in the bubbles for about twenty mins, adding more warm water when we feel the temperature drop. I massage her back, removing the tension, helping her relax.

  “Mmmm,” she moans, and I am doing all it takes to keep my erection down. Yet it’s getting hard to ignore her body.

  She leans into me, resting her back against the plane of my chest and I lick and suck her collar bone, then her shoulder. Quiet, sensual moments like these are the type some say only exist in romance novels. Well, then, this is the story of Jaxson and Lauren.

  “How are things going with the magazine—everything on track?”

  She rolls her neck as I continue to plant kisses on all parts of her my lips have access to. “Everything is kinda on track. At least I decided who is going to be on the cover.”

  “Really? And who did you decide on?”

  She slowly rubs my thighs with the tips of her fingers. “Me. I’m going to be on the cover. I got the idea from Daniella, Antonio Michaels’ wife.”

  “You? Oh baby, that’s brilliant. Your beautiful face deserves to be on that cover—well, on any magazine really.”

  “I’m pretty excited.” She lets out a small chuckle.

  “Yeah, you say you’re excited, but I still think something is bugging you,” I say, hoping she’ll open up.

  “I won’t be completely happy until everything is finalized. Including the fate of the ALLMe campaign.”

  I rub her head. “Don’t, worry, babe. It’ll all work out.”

  * * *

  After our bath, Lauren climbs into bed, and sips on the cup of chamomile tea I prepared for her. Then I rub her head as she falls asleep, her head resting on my lap. And when she has completely dozed off, I slip out of the room, take Truffles outside to handle his business, watch the local news, then lock up the villa.

  When I climb into bed next to my sleeping beauty, she wakes up.

  Lauren grabs hold of my face, kisses my lips, and murmurs, “Make love to me.”

  So I do. And God, does it feel good.

  Chapter 33

  Lauren

  Time waits for no one.

  And it seems as though the last couple of days have blown by like a hurricane. It’s the day of my cover photo shoot. It’s also the day I learn if all of what we have been preparing for just gets tossed away.

  I could just call this doomsday.

  Antonio Michaels has not confirmed if he will be going through with the ALLMe campaign or not. And today is the day that shoot is scheduled, as well. I’ve even asked Daniella if she knows and she swears he’s been real hush-hush about it.

  You should have just asked Jaxson to do it, I keep telling myself.

  But I didn’t want to ask for his help. Asking for help is something I don’t do very well—and it will probably cost me my dream magazine.

  I should have just stuck with simple fashion design. That would have been safer.

  Plus it doesn’t help that I have fallen in love with the one man who will ultimately make or break this deal for me.

  Jaxson Malone. A man who I literally bumped into just a little over two months ago. A man who took my breath away then, and takes my breath away now.

  The real and true-life man of my dreams.

  “We’ll need the files for the magazine no later than Tuesday so we can prepare and format for publication,” blares Daphne Richards of La Boutique via a conference call.

  André and Daniella silently grimace while I feel like barfing.

  “Of course. We will get those files to you no later than Tuesday of next week,” I say, trying hard to conceal the tension in my voice.

  “Wonderful. Also, we have decided that the first issue will also include a print edition.” Daphne says.

  “Okay...will the digital version still be available for free?”

  I hear Daphne clear her throat. “Yes, we just feel the first issue will bring in a ton of revenue. Besides all of the Haute Couture stuff, there are quite a few of us here who are also dying to have a physical copy of the magazine along with the spread for ALLMe.” She giggles.

  “Oh believe me, we too are dying to see it,” I say, sarcasm unhidden.

  “Right, well, you have a lovely day and we’ll talk soon, my dear.”

  Anxiety builds as I sit, waiting for some type of call, email, text…lightning—anything to let me know there has been a decision made.

  “Hold still, Madame Blake, s’il vous plaît, you’ll mess up your makeup,” says Ralph, the Haute Couture makeup artist.

  How can I be still, when I am too worried? Now, I wonder if I just opened up to Jaxson, even revealed what was at stake, would he have just said yes to the job?

  Ugh, the agony is sickening.

  “You all ready for your shoot, boss? They are all set and waiting. Daniella will be in there with you.”

  “Uh, sure, André, I’ll be right there. Ralph is just applying the finishing touches to my hair and makeup.”

  “As long as you remain still, Madame,” Ralph clarifies.

  “Okay, okay. I won’t move. Has anyone told you you’re quite bossy?”

  His perfectly shaped brows rise and he says, “Oui, oui, my wife tells me that is what she likes most about me.”

  I roll my eyes, but can’t stifle my giggle.

  He puts one final pin in my hair and orders me to close my eyes as he douses my hairdo with hairspray.

  “Parfait! You look beautiful, Madame Lauren.”

  * * *

  I enter my photo shoot, on pins and needles. Not only because I’m still frea
king out about the ALLMe campaign, but holy crap, this is my first photo shoot, for a publication estimated to be seen by millions.

  “Here is your outfit, Lauren. Let me know if you need help getting into it. It’s gorgeous,” says Daniella.

  And I’d have to agree. The beautiful black dress is accented by a lush, faux collar.

  Chic. Glamorous. Very Haute Couture-ish.

  I step out from behind the privacy screen, and the photographer and Daniella gasp.

  “You look beautiful, Lauren.”

  “Yes, you certainly do,” says Miles, the photographer. “Come now, let’s get this party started.”

  * * *

  Two hours later, I’m starting to realize why I’m not a fashion model. Look to the left. Lower your head. Raise your chin. Make love to the camera. Okay, he didn’t say that, but they do say that in the movies. It’s different sitting back and watching the actual shoot. But to be in the actual shoot is another story. My feet hurt from standing, and my mouth is sore from the smiling. All I want now is a bowl of soup.

  And Jaxson.

  I haven’t even been able to look at my phone to check on the status of ALLMe.

  “Okay, just one more shot and then we will have several for you to choose from, Ms. Blake,” says Miles.

  “Sounds good, Miles. How do you want me for this shot?”

  With his zoom lens in hand, he holds the camera over one eye, squinting into the lens. He adjusts the lighting in the room and says, “Look like a sexy mystery.”

  What?

  “Um, what?”

  “Look sexy and mysterious. Don’t smile, just make love to the camera.”

  Well, I guess that’s not only in the movies.

  I turn and face the camera, my eyes calm, my lips slightly pursed, my hands on my faux collar, then I think of Jaxson.