Page 70 of VOGUEish

“You guys don’t have to call it a night just because of me,” Annie protested.

“Nonsense. My roommate was ragging on me just the other night about my not getting enough sleep,” Isabella said. Making friends with Annie was on her to-do list on this trip. She’d conquer the politics of Naked Runway one colleague at a time.

Isabella’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and checked. It was from Chloe.

Need to talk. Sooner than later.—Chloe.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Back in her room, Isabella called Chloe. No answer. What was going on? Knowing Chloe, she probably wanted to know something like can I borrow your driver while you’re out of town? Isabella didn’t leave a message. Instead, she sent her a text.

Call me when you get this.—Isabella

Then she settled in to update her blog.

February 13th

Blog of an anonymous chick—living in a borough in the City—shaping her life one bad decision at a time.

I’ve recently discovered I’m awful at keeping secrets that aren’t convenient. For example, I had this fabulous secret with this fabulous guy who was doing me a solid, and then I went and spilled it. That makes me a dreadful person…right?

I’m pretty sure it does. And honestly, there’s a reason why I post as anonymous in the city. A really good reason which means I need to not be bad at keeping secrets.

I wonder if my New Year’s resolution to make more fun choices has turned me into someone who is most certainly not a fun person.

On the bright side, I love my new job.

Until next time,

Love, light, and laughter,

Anonymous in NYC

Isabella posted the blog.

Now all that was left was to fret about seeing Frankie Peterson again after all these years. And wonder what Chandler was doing? Was he regretting putting off anything between them until tomorrow evening? What in the hell was that about anyway? Was he really that anal about keeping business trips purely business? Or was it something else?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Chandler glanced at the locked connecting door between his room and Isabella’s. He’d gone for a swim in the ocean after dinner and was just getting back. Was Isabella’s side unlocked? What was she wearing right now? Had she slipped into something seductive?

Fuck.

Why again was he holding her at arm’s length? Because he wanted to talk to Ryder and know for certain the guy knew what the hell he was doing.

And he wanted to give Isabella time to sober up and change her mind. To give her time to come to her senses. To give her time to compare him to Ryder and make a solid choice. To give her time to know for certain what she wanted from him. A fling he could do. The rest was uncharted waters.

He’d tried calling Ryder, but the guy hadn’t answered.

Refusing to check if her side was unlocked, he took a shower. He heard something as he was stepping out. Was Isabella trying his door? He grabbed a towel and hurried into the living area of his suite and listened.

Silence. Whatever he’d heard, it wasn’t happening now. He slipped on a pair of boxers and pulled back the covers of his king size bed. Unable to resist, he walked to the connecting door and unlocked his side.

If Isabella came to him, they could talk about their path forward. Or their lack of path forward.

To kill time, he grabbed his briefcase and decided to work. Since he was between companies to fix, Nonna had him helping with the hiring process for NR. Along with hiring a new editor-in-chief, he would help Isabella with the hiring of a new online columnist, a publicist, and an events planner.

About an hour later, he heard a noise again. He listened closely and realized it was coming from Annie’s room. He walked toward their shared wall and listened.

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