Styled (Travesty Book 4) Page 14

  Because that was the hallmark of the modern woman, right? Sex. No big deal.

  Even when the guy in question does something seriously sweet. Like lets you keep his bike because he thinks you could use it.

  Be cool, dammit. That means no daydreaming, no silly smiling, and definitely—gah—no drawing doodly hearts on the takeout menu.

  Ugh. I hit the number for the restaurant, then shoved the menu in a drawer.

  21

  Ethan

  “Fuck. Ty will have me killed if he learns I let you do this.”

  “Then we won’t tell him, Ethan. My director doesn’t need to know what I’m doing in my spare time. Now shut up and lift. I thought you worked out.”

  I braced against my end and Axe did on his, and together we moved the piece of furniture across the room, setting it down by the living room window.

  “There. That’s better, right?” he grunted, brushing his hands on his jeans.

  “Whatever you say. I didn’t know you called me over tonight to move furniture.” The thing we’d moved was covered in green paisley fabric and weighed as much as an elephant. “I don’t even know what the hell that is.”

  “It’s art.”

  “It looks like a couch.”

  “It better fucking be art because my accountant told me it cost fifty grand.”

  I laughed, rounding to the front of the thing. “Will it depreciate if I sit on it?”

  “Just do it. That kind of money, you have to enjoy shit.”

  I sat. Shifted around a little.

  Damn thing wasn’t even comfortable but I was tired after the long day. I leaned against the back and stretched my arm along the top.

  “You see that listing go up in Palisades?” Axe asked. “The seven bed?”

  “Yeah, I saw it.”

  Axe shifted. “I want to take a look. Me and Jules together. She wants to list this place and buy something else.”

  “Really?” Not that I was complaining. The last time I’d sold and bought for Axe it’d netted me mid-five-figures. “Itchy feet?”

  “Nah. We’re pregnant.”

  I stood, stunned. “Wow. Axe, man, that’s crazy.”

  “Yeah.” His face warmed.

  I’d known him since his first role, five years ago. He hadn’t even met his wife Jules then. We’d bought his first place together. I’d gone to their wedding last year, when I’d sworn they wouldn’t last even this long.

  Relationships are hard in this town, whether you’re an actor or a realtor. I know it firsthand.

  But in Axe’s case, I was really fucking glad to be wrong.

  “Well, I’ll take some pictures before I go. Put out feelers tonight. Get Candice in for some pro shots tomorrow, though the place might not last long. I’ll call your assistant and set up a time to view the Palisades place.”

  Axe raised a brow. “That it?”

  “Oh. Congrats, man.” I kicked myself for glossing over the most important part.

  Axe crossed to the kitchen and I followed. “Thanks. You want a beer?” He opened the fridge, patting his eight-pack abs. “My agent says I need to watch my gut. So I have this light shit.”

  He took one look at it then reached for something imported and definitely not light.

  Two, handing one to me.

  I laughed. “I have to say. I can’t picture you having kids, Axe.”

  “Everything changes when you find the girl. Life just starts to go right.”

  I couldn’t relate. With Gia it’d felt like we were half a step out of sync, even when I was in too deep to admit it. She’d caught my attention through work. We’d dated for months. I’d taken her out to expensive places, bought her nice things. She’d wanted more, and at first I wasn’t sure. Then when I’d manned up enough to ask her to move in with me, she’d bolted.

  In the months that’d followed, it had helped to chalk the breakup up to her. But now, hearing that she was engaged—a fact I’d corroborated through a minimal investment in social media stalking—maybe it wasn’t that simple.

  Did it suck knowing she was better off without me? A little. But I’m a firm believer in things happening when they’re meant to happen. After a few months of moping, I’d realized Gia wasn’t coming back. And I wasn’t going after her.

  “Hey Axe. With Jules, you knew she was it?”

  “Yup. She didn’t though. She had better guys than me lining up the block for her. I had to impress her.”

  “How did you do that?”

  “Gave her what no other guy can give her. In this city every asshole with a black card can go to Bulgari.” Axe’s phone rang—Jules’ ringtone was Beyonce’s Crazy in Love—and he picked it up. “Hey, baby. Where you at?”

  I shook my head as Axe retreated down the hall for privacy.

  I’d definitely had accounts at a few stores. Not that I’d used them lately. I suddenly pictured a guy buying Jordan jewelry. The look of confusion on her face. She’d say something like “Did you forget to pay your taxes this year?”

  A smile pulled at my mouth.

  What would she like?

  Experiences. A girl who could buy everything would want to experience the world. Take risks. Try new things.

  Like surfing.

  Irritation sprung up out of nowhere and I glanced down at my phone. Eleven o’clock. What would she and Kent be doing right now? Watching TV? Or something else?

  I didn’t have a problem with the guy. But he lived in San Diego, not Seattle. There was zero need for him to stay over.

  He’d better be sleeping on the damned couch.

  The floor.

  In the hall.

  I pressed my hand against my forehead. Make some sense, man.

  Sure I’d been psyched when my dinner fell through. Immediately I’d started crafting scenarios of me arriving on her doorstep with a bottle of wine and the promise of reviewing listings.

  On her couch. In her bed. On top of that granite counter.

  My mind had been halfway to her place before I’d gotten her text that she was busy.

  Now I wasn’t just blue-balled, I was grumpy as fuck. The reaction was almost as stupid as the idea of showing up with wine.

  I didn’t lose my head over women.

  As inconvenient and incredible and unlikely as it was, there was only one conclusion…

  I had a crush on Jordan. I fucking liked her.

  There were two options. I could act like an asshole and pretend there was nothing going on. Or I could—what did Axe say? Give her what no other guy can give her.

  The wheels started to turn in my head.

  I pulled out my phone and sent off a text.

  I’m picking you up at 6 am

  I waited for her to text back. For a minute, nothing. My gut started twisting, that annoying feeling uncomfortably close to jealousy.

  Finally she texted back.

  What? Why?

  Just be ready

  OK…but it better be good

  I grinned.

  “Ethan?”

  “Yeah.” I turned to find Axe pocketing his phone. His expression was amused. “How’s Jules?”

  “She wants to check out this vineyard in Sonoma.”

  “To buy wine?”

  “To buy the vineyard. Please get me into this place in Palisades before I end up spending my days off barefoot stomping grapes.”

  “You got it.” I took another sip of the beer and set it on the counter, feeling my second wind hit me. I was going to need it tonight.

  22

  Ethan

  “Binoculars and a bathing suit, huh?”

  I played innocent. “Guys don’t usually ask you to bring those when they take you out?”

  “Not lately.” Jordan eyed me with skepticism as she slid into the car, still looking half asleep. “You’re in a good mood. What would you be doing right now if you weren’t picking me up for this mystery expedition?”

  I turned her innocent question over in my head as I accelerated ou
t of the parking lot. “I don’t know if I should answer that. Full-on Ethan might violate your delicate sensibilities.”

  “You’re right,” she yawned. “I’m not sure I can take you this early.”

  My eyes skimmed over her body as we stopped for a red light. The denim shorts barely covered legs I’d had wrapped around me.

  Far too briefly and way too long ago.

  You might not be able to take me. But I’d love to watch you try.

  That was what regular Ethan would say. This better version of myself took a pass on the obvious innuendo. The reality was, I was really happy to just be sitting next to her. And I wasn’t going to screw it up.

  The streets were easy to navigate this early, and I had no problem parking at our destination. The sun was just starting to paint the sky pinks and yellows, and the boutiques on Montana Ave were quiet.

  I was like a kid eager to show off his school project. This hadn’t been part of the plan but I’d done some last-minute readjusting after I’d gotten a lead on it last night.

  I unlocked the front door and pushed it open.

  “Wow,” Jordan murmured as she stepped in after me. “This is seriously cool.”

  I reached for the switch and flicked it on, triggering a second-floor chandelier and sconces that lined the first-floor walls. “Yeah? The building’s older, but it’s just been redone. There was a boutique in here before but they just moved. Most of the stores on this street are one story, but this one has both levels.” I pointed to the spiral staircase at the back that went up to a loft, with catwalks down each side.

  Jordan crossed the main area from front to back before turning to face me, her mouth tight. “It’s beautiful, Ethan. But it’s big. And we’re ten blocks from Reve.”

  I vaguely remembered her telling me about the other boutique’s threats to drop Travesty. “So?”

  “So I’ve been trying to figure out a way we could get something small. That way they won’t see us as a threat. This is about as subtle as detonating a nuclear missile in their backyard.”

  I followed her, pulling up close enough that I could see the flecks of copper in her eyes.

  “Come on. You can afford this. Your business plan—”

  Jordan snorted. “It was practically the back of a napkin, Ethan.”

  “I know how seriously you take things, even if you don’t want other people to know it sometimes. And I get that it’s a risk. But so’s everything. Some risks are worth it, you just have to know which ones.” She took the stairs up to the loft. I was losing her. “If you had this place, what would you do here?” I called after her. “Your vignettes.”

  Jordan hesitated, folding her arms over her chest and gazing down the length of the catwalk toward the two-story front window. “Our store in New York is hip. This one’s elegant.” I scaled the stairs and moved to stand behind her at the edge of the catwalk. “We could put mannequins down each side. Three,” she went on. “The theme would be a night out,” she decided. “Carpet down each side. Not red. Fuchsia.”

  I couldn’t help but smile as I watched her. “What else?”

  “Paparazzi. Maybe not mannequins, but animals, with cameras. It should be dramatic but fun too. And over here someone getting ready, in a makeup chair. Instead of makeup there’d be cans of paint.”

  I could tell she was getting into it.

  “But it can’t be crowded. It needs lots of space.” Her hand touched the railing of the catwalk, a finger running along the top. When she went on, her voice had gone from matter-of-fact to wistful. “Whether it’s jean shorts or…a gold dress—” my mouth twitched at the corner “—it should just call to you.”

  Jordan looked back at me, reaching up to push her hair out of her face. Those strangely fascinating eyes worked over mine with an earnestness that made my chest tingle.

  “That probably sounds stupid to someone who sells bricks and mortar.”

  “I think it sounds incredible.”

  Jordan offered up a small smile, then turned and started taking pictures of the store with her phone.

  My fists tightened at my sides. Part of me wanted to grab her, to push her up against the wall and kiss her until she confessed she couldn’t think about square footage either. That she was as worked up as I was.

  I settled for grabbing her hand as she started to pass me, heading for the back of the store.

  “Hey,” I murmured, tugging her closer. Her eyes widened in surprise but I refused to let go until her hand relaxed in mine. “You think Ava and Lex will like this place?”

  “Oh, Ava will like it all right. Lex will ask how the hell we’re going to fill it. Or pay for it,” she said dryly.

  “You’re really not tempted to bankroll this yourself? I’m sure you could afford a few months rent on this place.”

  “No. I have a trust fund. But I swore I’d never touch a cent of it. I want to start a charity someday, give back to women who want to start their own businesses but can’t afford to. No matter where they live, or what they have.”

  I frowned, trying to understand. “But the money’s yours.”

  “Only incidentally. I never earned it. Never sacrificed for it. It shouldn’t belong to me. And even if it had earned it, what would I spend it on?” She laughed. “An i8 to drive around Manhattan?”

  Fuck, this girl was something else. I couldn’t name another person in the world who had the same attitude to money and things as she did.

  “You should think about the store, Jordan. I’m serious,” I said at her skeptical look. “Find a way. Because I can see you here. Travesty, I mean.”

  She groaned. “You’re a bad influence. How’d you even find this place?”

  “Pulled some strings.” And I’d been up half the night looking for it. Commercial properties weren’t my forte but I’d made personal calls to ten colleagues before getting a lead on this one.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  People didn’t do this girl favors without expecting something in return. I wanted to show her she was enough. She was perfect.

  “So. Are you ready for the real adventure?”

  Jordan’s eyes widened. “There’s more?”

  “Oh, yeah.” I closed in on her. In flats she was barely an inch shorter than me, and all our good parts were distractingly aligned. “Time to change into the bathing suit.”

  “I have it on.” She lifted the thick straps of her tank to show me a single skinny orange strap that tied behind her neck.

  “Great.” That strap alone had me visualizing what the rest of it looked like.

  I turned to leave the store through the back and willed the insta-boner away.

  Jordan followed me, and I locked up after us. At the car, I turned to face her. “Oh. You can strip down now.”

  “We’re going to the beach?”

  I slid into the car and so did she. “Not technically. But the next part of our adventure is more for you than for me. If you wear the bathing suit, it might even things out.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  I reached over to open the glove compartment and retrieved a folded piece of paper, handing it to her.

  “What is this?”

  “Take a look.”

  Jordan unfolded it, read it in silence. Her eyebrows knit in confusion until she realized what it was.

  “Oh my God.” Her low laugh rumbled through the car. “Did you draw this?”

  After finishing work on the development, and some emails on Axe’s place, I’d spent the next two hours going all Pinterest until my eyes had ached. I’d made the map from scratch, putting her favourite actors on it, along with some of mine.

  “I even signed the bottom. In case you want to frame it.”

  “This is just…wow. What’s that supposed to be?” She pointed and I followed her over the Hollywood Hills terrain I’d colored with a green hi-liter from my work bag.

  “Tom Cruise. He’s waving from his lawn.”

  “Looks like he�
�s giving me the finger.”

  I squinted. “Could be.”

  “So we’re going on the tour, huh?”

  “Yup.”

  Jordan’s face dissolved into a grin I could’ve stared at for an hour. “Thank you.” She cocked her head like she was making a big decision. “You really want the bathing suit?”

  “I really do. If you haven’t noticed, I like looking at you.”

  With a skeptical look, she tugged her shirt over her head, dropping it into the back seat. The orange triangle underneath was bright against her creamy skin, revealing the curves of her breasts and the slow dip of her stomach as she leaned back in the seat.

  I swallowed the groan.

  “Jordan,” I said slowly. “Thank you.”

  23

  Ethan

  “Why is Tony Jacobs’ house the last stop?” Jordan asked as we sat outside the fenced property ninety minutes later.

  “Watch.”

  She shifted forward in her seat and craned her neck to see over the wrought iron gates.

  “Nothing’s happening. What are we waiting for?”

  “Patience.” I extended the bag. “Corn nuts?”

  She raised a brow, but took some. I reclined the back of my seat and so did she.

  “Look! Something just flew out of there.” She pointed toward a window on the second floor and I followed her finger.

  “That’s his daughter Kori’s room. She has a reputation for temper tantrums, especially after auditions. One time after a bad audition for a TV re-make of Romeo and Juliet, she got drunk and performed the entire Juliet portion of the balcony scene. Featuring some very un-Shakespearean nudity. It was all over the tabloids but one of Dom’s friends caught it on his phone. And, I happen to know she had an audition this morning.”

  “How?”

  “There’s a blog. Korispotting.”

  I reached for more corn nuts, my gaze narrowing on the window. We waited a few minutes. Until a streak of black caught my vision.