Page 12 of French Martini

The pain in his voice stirs some primal need in me to punch out anyone who’s ever hurt him. “What exactly do you need from me?”

“There will be a few cocktail parties and interviews I’m required to attend during the week, then, of course, the night of the awards. I need you by my side, supporting me and acting like I hung the moon in your eyes. Again, I realize it’s a lot to ask but?—”

Is he kidding right now? “I’ll do it, Low.”

He gasps softly. “Really?”

“Yeah. You’re a friend and I’m happy to help. Besides, I like design shit.”

Relief washes over his features. “Thank you.”

“Pleasure.”

We stand awkwardly for a moment until Lowen brushes his hand against mine. “How did the proposal go this morning?”

“I think it went well. Yves seemed to like my ideas and the budget. He has a partner who I thought was his bodyguard but it turns out he’s just overprotective. Apparently he told Yves I had good energy, so I think I might get the job.”

“That’s wonderful. Congrats.”

“Thanks.” I glance over my shoulder. “I guess I should get back.”

“Want to come over tonight? I can prep you on what to expect.”

I have to fight the smile that wants to come out. Don’t want to startle my skittish kitten. “Sure. What time?”

“Six? The guys can handle dinner service. We’re slow today.”

“I’ll be there.”

Before I can leave, Lowen reaches out and grabs my hand. “Thank you again for doing this.”

“You bet.”

I walk back to my table with a shit-eating grin on my face. I get to spend a week romancing the diva of my dreams? Hell yeah.

FIVE

LOWEN

Well,that’s done.

He took my bizarre request in stride, and even better, didn’t have an ounce of pity in his eyes. Thank fuck. I couldn’t handle that.

I walk back to the bar where my friends are pretending to be busy, but I’m fully aware that they’re waiting for the result. Oakley is at the table with his coworkers, laughing and talking.

“He said yes,” I say softly.

“Yeah, we know,” Ridley says. “You should’ve seen the grin on his face when he came out of that office. Did you blow him as an incentive?”

Salem snickers but coughs to cover it up.

“You are so crass sometimes.”

Ridley nods. “Yep.”

“I didn’tblowhim. I asked nicely and he said yes. I’m meeting him at the house at six to go over the itinerary if you all don’t mind my absence.”

“No problem, Low,” Indy says, squeezing my shoulder. “It’s dead tonight. I think half of us could bail easily. Kit is gonna dip to take Stewart to dinner in the city.”

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