It was best not to push her luck. There were only so many things she could conquer in one day—Sylvia Hodge and building a fashion empire at the top of today’s list. She needed to force herself to stop barking up the handsome billionaire.
Sarah grabbed her evening bag and marched into the living room. Aiden was standing near the door, talking on his cell. Even seeing him only in profile, he was too much to take in with a single look. So her vision landed on his black dress shoes, perfectly polished. Eyes traveling north, she savored every inch—his long legs in black tux pants, his heavenly torso in a crisp white shirt, topped off with an untied bow tie. However ludicrous the thought, she considered begging him to forget the Sylvia thing. Face time with a fashion icon? Who cared? She needed face time with him. Face-to-face. Lips to lips.
He turned, his vision unsubtly washing over her. “I need to go,” he said to his phone, then tucked it into his pocket.
Sarah waited for his verdict, her pulse racing and her mouth dry.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he said. “The dress is stunning.”
The dress. The dress is stunning. She couldn’t ignore his choice of words.
“You clean up pretty nice yourself.” She stopped short of mentioning that his suit pants might look better draped over a chair, his shirt flung over a lamp.
He cocked an eyebrow and tied his tie without so much as looking in the mirror. Surely her heart was never meant to withstand these flirtatious blows. “Good?” he asked.
“Your tie?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a little crooked.” He’d done a spot-on job, but this was too good an excuse to touch him. She set down her bag and straightened the tie, quickly learning that with her height disadvantage, she was giving him a bird’s-eye view down the front of her dress. His warm smell teased her nose, making the proximity of his mouth impossible to ignore. Why was she torturing herself? She patted his shoulder and stepped back. “You’re perfect.” Too perfect.
“Good. Let’s get out of here.”
John quickly had them to the warehouse where Forward Style was being held. The show moved from city to city each year, and to make it that much more exclusive—and elusive—the exact location was never revealed to guests until hours before it started. Judging by the jam of limousines and expensive cars in front of the venue, along with the mass of people and photographers standing behind barricades, Sarah could only imagine the mayhem if the address were publicized ahead of time.
Sitting in the car, waiting for their turn at the red carpet, Sarah’s earlier calm faded. The closer they crept, it got worse. Cameras flashed. Spotlights beamed into the night sky. Sarah’s pulse acted like it was auditioning to join a Miami music rhythm section. This world they were about to step into was all kinds of intimidating, but she’d wanted this since she was a teenager. You’ve waited long enough. This is your future.
A valet opened the door and Aiden was out first. Sarah scooted across the seat, and just when she had another pang of doubt, he took her hand and gave it a squeeze. Regardless of what it meant, she was so glad to have her fingers safely tucked inside his grasp. He didn’t have to give a speech to bolster her now. His touch was all she needed.
She’d worried that the photographers’ camera flashes would stop when she stepped out of the car, but they kept coming. Of course, it was part of the excitement of the evening, or quite possibly the allure of Aiden, but she soaked up every second. She stood tall and smiled, hanging on to Aiden’s hand just as she had in the air above Biscayne Bay.
Across the threshold, gorgeous women in supershort dresses offered glasses of sparkling wine. Aiden and Sarah filtered into the warehouse, which had been done up with glitzy lighting and cascades of white fabric hanging from the tall ceilings. A din of conversation and thumping dance music filled the room. Models, designers, rock stars and the Hollywood elite were decked out in a dizzying array of fashion choices—everything from priceless gowns to ripped jeans. They all seemed to know each other, embracing, laughing and chattering away.
A handsome young man in a tux offered to show them to their seats. As they walked up the aisle, Sarah couldn’t believe it as they got closer and closer to the front. They stopped at the first row, taking their seats between one notorious magazine editor and renowned twin sister fashion mavens. “How’d you manage these?” she whispered in Aiden’s ear.
He put his arm around her and nestled his nose in her hair. “I made an additional donation. I figured it would add to your mystery. Everyone will want to know who you are.”