Page 52 of VOGUEish

He eyeballed anything and everything that kept her out of his peripheral vision. A large table with comfortable chairs. A screen projector and screen. Colorful office supplies nicely arranged on a set of shelves. A small fridge and a set of dishes and silverware. A stack of menus on the corner of the ping-pong table.

“You’re welcome.” He picked up a menu so his hands had something to do besides what they desired to do. Reach out and haul her into his arms so he could kiss her smart mouth. “Do they all deliver to this part of town?”

“They do.” She walked to him, took the menus out of his hands, and tossed them on the table.

“You’ve thought of everything.”

She turned and leaned against the table. “I’m hoping the team wants to go out after. There’s a biker bar one block over that I’ve been dying to see the inside of but haven’t had the courage to enter…yet.”

“There’s actually a place in this area you are afraid of?”

She punched him in the arm. “Not afraid of. It’s just I haven’t had the nerve because of its clientele. But ever since getting fucked while on display, I’m suddenly ready for the next big adventure in my life.”

He gulped and took a step away from her, moving so that the table was between them. Damn, the rest of the team needed to get the hell here. “Where are you picking up the pastries for tomorrow?”

She crossed her arms, causing the material of her shirt to stretch across her breasts. “I’m picking up tarts and croissants from Bibble and Sip.”

What in the hell kind of name was that for an establishment? “Are they good?”

“Of course they’re good. Why are you so up in my business about tomorrow’s pastries?”

Because it kept him from getting all up in her business about Ryder. He strolled to the conference table and sat. “Have you been thinking of ideas for a cover?”

Isabella’s eyes lit up. “Of course I have ideas. Fashion is my passion.”

As if on cue, the rest of the team appeared in the large picture window.

Chandler sighed in relief.

Isabella waved and opened the door for them. “Welcome to Gowanus. Home of a polluted canal and an up-and-coming artsy population—thus the writing on the window. The man we’re renting from is into alternative sayings as a form of art. And if you inhale deeply, you’ll know he’s also into lighting up a joint now and then.”

“What are you doing here?” Tyce asked Chandler. “I thought you’d moved on to a new business in need of your particular skill set?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Chandler said. “Let me assure you, it’s not to spy.”

Twenty minutes later, they were all gathered around the table. The rules had been set. Everyone had an equal voice. Nothing they did would be mentioned outside of this location. Alcohol was allowed since they were working after hours. They’d meet every night until the project was complete.

Chandler cleared his voice. “Now that we’ve taken care of the details, you may get started. Ms. Birdie asked me to stay out of your way and let you do your thing. In that spirit, I’m going to sit right over there and listen.”

Ziggy cleared his throat and addressed his colleagues. “Keep in mind, we’re designing the December cover.”

“Which is, in my opinion, the best cover of the year,” Isabella added. “I always look forward to it.”

“Then let’s get going. I’ve got ideas,” Teagan added.

Chandler watched as the group settled into a rhythm with one another. Throwing out ideas. Arguing about them. Accepting some. Kicking out others. Isabella held her own. It was obvious she was the outsider, but it was also obvious she was willing to put in the work to be one of them.

He listened as she pushed her thoughts and adjusted them on the fly when something got shut down.

The team really started taking notice of her and what she brought to the table when she sashayed to the giant chart and began illustrating their visions.

“It looks like we’ve got a secret weapon,” Ziggy said. “Can you put more glitter in the air around the model?”

“Great idea.” Isabella picked up a different marker and added the appearance of glitter to her sketch.

Chandler watched in amazement. She had talent. As the team vocalized what they envisioned the cover model wearing, Isabella mocked the outfit up in her sketch.

At nine, they wrapped up for the evening because the winter weather had taken a turn for the worse. Chandler, as instructed by Nonna, rode the subway with the others. He couldn’t help but notice on the ride home how they all kept their distance from him. Isabella had been right. They didn’t like him and would never accept her if she was with him. No way would he mess this up for her. He’d keep his distance. Maybe even be seen around town dating someone else to help counter the rumors they were a couple.

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