Page 57 of Falling For The Billionaire Rockstar

Leaving her was one of the most difficult decisions I had to contemplate, especially given the horrible timing. It also sucked that I had no idea how she felt about all of it.

When I mentioned it the other day at her apartment, I caught a glimpse of her initial reaction. She looked distraught and was unable to say anything else. However, she had been all smiles and said, “It’s okay, babe,” afterward, so I had a hard time deciphering how she really felt.

The meeting seemed to last forever, and I wondered if I could sit through the next hour of it. Layla had repeatedly tapped my arm to bring my attention back to the room, but it was always short-lived. Nothing new was ever said, and everything was done for the sake of formality.

By the time the meeting finally ended, I had cramps in my back. I still had to shake hands with all fifteen investors and thank them for wanting to sponsor my tour. They were doing it for the huge profits and publicity they gained from it anyway, so I did not know why I still had to thank them for fattening their pockets.Formality’s sake, indeed.

“What’s next?” I asked Layla, who had been sticking so close to me like I would disappear if she let me out of her sight for a single second.

“Your fitting for the outfits you’d use throughout the concerts. You’d be having two fittings—one today and another one next week. We want to give the designer enough time to get the outfits ready in time for when you leave,” she explained, and I stopped when something crossed my mind.

“Layla, please remind me again why it had to be now of all times that you and the rest of the team would put together a tour? Such an abrupt plan in a short time?”

She sighed. I was pretty sure I had asked the question at least twice since the tour was decided upon.

“I already explained it to you, sir. Summer is starting in a few weeks’ time, and since your concert starts in Europe, the holiday season would be profitable for you. Most of your sold-out concerts were held around this time.”

She was right. Summer and Christmas seasons were the best times to hold a concert. The turnout was massive, and in a place like Europe, where holiday visitors were always pouring in, my concert would usually be filled with loads of them who just wanted to have a good time.

“I understand that, but we could have at least started in New York. No place like home, right?”

“We definitely considered that too, but with the recent dating scandal you had concerning your involvement with Olivia Sanders, we weren’t too sure the media had forgotten about everything, so taking the risk would have been a hit or miss. Europe, on the other hand, wouldn’t hold it against you because they had little to no idea as to who Gregory Hathaway was. They’d barely be bothered about your decision,” she explained, and I realized just how hard she worked.

She handled everything that had to do with my career, and I’m pretty sure the only thing she couldn’t do was sing in my place.

“All right, thank you, Layla. I’ll make my way to the designer for the fitting.”

She nodded and walked away while I headed out for the designer.

The drive to the designer was quite a long one, but it brought me closer to home, so I felt pleased. I still hadn’t called Olivia, so I quickly dialed her.

“Hey, baby,” I said as soon as she picked up.

“Hey, sweetie, how did your meeting go?”

“It was long and boring. I kept thinking about you the whole time. What have you been up to?” I asked. We didn’t have any discussion related to it, so I wasn’t sure she was still in my apartment.

“Cleaning, actually. By the way, what would you like to have for dinner? I’ll cook,” she said so casually I could tell she was getting used to spending time with me. I suddenly wondered if this wouldn’t make it harder for her when I had to leave.

“Pasta sounds nice. Creamy pasta or Bolognese, I really don’t mind,” I said, my face blushing as the thought of her wearing nothing but my T-shirt while she made pasta for me was suddenly vivid in my mind.

“All right, I can’t wait to see you again, baby,” she said and hung up, leaving a huge grin on my face.

I walked into the fashion house where my outfits were usually made. I hadn’t been here in ages, not since last summer.

“Long time no see, Mr. Steele!” Madam Bridget, the owner of the fashion house and my fashion designer, hailed as I walked in.

“Indeed, Madam Bridget. I can see you’ve made incredible upgrades since my last visit,” I said as I looked around. The place seemed to have gotten bigger in size, with more fitting rooms and mirrors than I remembered seeing the last time. The staff number had tripled, indicating steady growth over the past year.

“Miss Layla called and mentioned you needed outfits for a tour.”

I nodded, and she stretched her large hands toward the staff. The young lady placed a big tape on it, and another lady adjusted the mirror so my tall frame could be completely seen. I stood still as Madam Bridget showed me the designs Layla had picked, none of which I had objections to.

The fitting took a while, as the short designer and her staff struggled to get my full frame. I fought the desire to laugh through it all as she improvised on ways to take the measurements without having me bend low. Two hours later, the fitting was done. Feeling quite exhausted for the day, I headed straight home.

Olivia had already set the dinner table, and my jaw dropped when I saw what she had on. It was one of my office shirts, a large one that stopped right beneath her knee. I could tell she had nothing else on as her nipples were erect, poking through the shirt.

“How was your day, babe?” she asked as I sat at the dinner table. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she stood in front of me, smiling into my face.

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