Page 65 of VOGUEish

The next several weeks flew by in a whirl of activity. Chandler was busy breaking down a new company and doing his damnedest to stay too busy to interfere with Isabella and Ryder’s relationship.

He’d been a damn fool to allow Nonna to bully him into recommending one of his friends as a husband candidate for Isabella. If Isabella was dating any other guy, Chandler would have no problem pursuing her.

Then again, the question remained, what would he do with her once he caught her? Agree to be her dirty little secret? Demand to be more than that? Ask her to choose him over the need to fit in at work?

As much as he hated it, she was right. He’d revamped enough businesses to know how polluted office politics can become. His presence in Isabella’s life would be reason enough for her to remain an outsider at Naked Runway. And that was the last thing he wanted for her. He’d witnessed first-hand how painful that had been for her in high school. He couldn’t live with himself if he caused her that kind of pain again.

Hell, Annie was an example of office politics gone bad. Her closeness to the former leader of Naked Runway had sent her down a rocky fallout path. One she was still navigating.

As much as he’d like to pick up his phone and call Isabella, he wouldn’t. According to social media posts, she was happy.

She deserved to be happy. Hell, Ryder deserved to be happy.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Chandler was not having fun, and it was Isabella’s fault. They were sitting in a bar on the beach while Annie took a nap.

“I don’t believe you,” he said grumpily. He’d been in a fantastic mood until Ryder had dropped her off at the plane rather than her driver. That had happened over seven hours ago, and he was still feeling surly.

She shrugged. “I’m not lying. I’ve got it on. I can show it to you. I swear, you’ll need a magnifying glass to see the bottoms.”

He glanced at her demure coverup. “Does Ryder know you brought it?”

Isabella giggled. “He bought it for me to bring. All he asked in return were some pictures. Which you are going to have to take.”

Fuck. “Why the hell would the asshole do that?” Chandler’s thoughts had been wildly inappropriate the last couple of days knowing he’d have Isabella away from Ryder. And they’d grown even more inappropriate sitting here listening to her go on about her bikini. Taking her photo would be a bad idea. That would be equivalent to setting a bottle of vodka in front of a boozer.

Not that he would act on those thoughts. He was a man of his word. He’d told Ryder Isabella was free of attachments. He would not turn around and become an attachment. His only honorable course of action was to wait Isabella and Ryder’s relationship out. And that’s exactly what he’d do even if it killed him. Which it might.

Besides, this trip wasn’t about getting lucky. There was a lot at stake. He needed to keep his brain in the game and sign a damn editor-in-chief.

“If he’s buying you clothes, things must be heating up.” The last thing he wanted to talk about was Ryder, but he needed something to put the brakes on his desires, and knowledge the two of them were sleeping together just might do the trick.

She sighed happily. “He really is Sports Illustrated perfect, and sure to be parent approved.” She picked up her glass and drained her margarita. Her second since arriving.

Chandler forced a smile. “That’s what you keep telling me.”

She pulled her eyebrows together and cocked her head like a puppy. “I’m sorry. The last thing you want to hear is about your friend’s love life.”

She wasn’t wrong. “How about a walk along the beach? We can work up an appetite for dinner.”

“Oh…I have an appetite for something.” She slid unceremoniously off her barstool.

Get your head out of your ass. She just told you she has an appetite for your friend. He held out his hands, ready to steady her, but she found her balance without the need to touch her.

“You have lovely eyes,” she said to him, tilting her head up as she stared at him, showing off her long slender neck.

He forced a smiled. “And you have a slight case of the tipsies.” Tipsies? What in the hell kind of word was that? This woman had turned his brain to mush.

They stepped out of the bar right onto the beach. “Tell me what you and Nonna talked about the day we interviewed India, after I left the room.” He’d asked Nonna, but she’d bluntly told him it was none of his business.

They took several steps before Isabella responded. “She wants me to be happy. She wants you to be happy. She wants Ryder to be happy. And mostly she wants no one to get hurt.”

Had Nonna warned Isabella off him? Told her Ryder was a much better candidate than her godson? “What else did you talk about?”

“She thinks it’s grand I’m ready to get married and adopt babies.”

His gut clenched. This was the first he’d heard of her wanting to adopt. That fact alone made her and Ryder perfect for one another. He’d been going on about someday adopting children ever since Chandler could remember. “With Ryder?”

---