Page 61 of French Martini

Indy walks over and squeezes my shoulder. “They aren’t snipers or wild animals. We can handle it, and so can you. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. You navigated shark infested waters and made it out alive. Don’t sell yourself short.”

I nod, blinking to keep from crying. I only do that in private. “Thanks, Indy.”

“Try to have fun, huh?” he says. “Enjoy the attention and the recognition you deserve.”

“And enjoy that hunky bear on your arm,” Salem adds with a wink, making me laugh.

“I’ll do my best.”

They leave and I finish packing, take a luxurious bath, then select my outfit, knowing the chances are high we’ll be spotted on our way into the hotel. It’s time to adopt my Parisian persona for the week. The aloof, high glamour, unshakable diva everyone there knows me as. I won’t let Alain or anyone else break me this week. I’ve worked too hard to put myself back together.

At two-thirty onthe dot my phone buzzes. I grab it, bending over to finish putting on my shoes. It’s a text fromRidley letting me know Oakley is here. I asked them not to let him come up, choosing instead to make my entrance more impactful. Oakley hasn’t seen this side of me yet, and even though it’s temporary, I really hope he likes it.

I chose a sheer black blouse that plunges to my belly button and silky, wide-legged black trousers. I’ve draped my neck in numerous delicate gold chains and added my favorite bracelets. My hair is styled, makeup done, and I have red-bottom pumps on. I look every bit the high-end designer I am. My final touch is a glorious soft pink faux fur wrap.

I gather my suitcase and overnight bag and make my way to the stairs, where the sound of Oakley’s deep, jovial voice tickles my insides. With a quick glance at the spectacular diamond decorating my ring finger, I begin my descent, holding back a smile when Oakley stops speaking mid-sentence.

His jaw drops, as does mine when I see what he’s wearing. I didn’t tell him to dress up, but he chose simple black slacks and a charcoal gray sweater that hugs his muscular frame beautifully.

“Kitten,” he whispers, and even though all my friends are gathered around, I don’t mind the endearment. “Fucking hell. You are stunning.”

Ridley wolf whistles at me. “Hell yeah, Low. Slay those bastards.”

“I need to seriously up my game,” Salem muses, before Indy wraps his arms around him and whispers something that makes his cheeks blush.

Stewart beams as Kit nods appreciatively. “You look amazing, Lowen.”

“Thank you.”

Jerryn and Bane pause their video game and Bane actually claps, making me laugh softly.

Wren, having moved in without any unneeded drama a few nights ago, comes out of the kitchen, pausing when he sees me. “Wow.”

“Showtime.” I shrug. “Here goes nothing.”

“They’re on your turf now,” Ridley says. “Own that shit. You look like a fucking goddess and you have a hot-ass man on your arm. You got this, babe.”

I nod, blowing out a breath as Oakley reaches up to grab my suitcase. “I’ve got this.”

Oakley is gazing at me like he can’t believe his eyes. Mission accomplished.

“You look wonderful,” I tell him.

He nods, making a happy humming noise. “You are unreal.”

I look over my shoulder at my friends. “I’ll check in with you guys.”

“Have fun,” Salem calls as we step outside.

I scan the driveway for Oakley’s truck, but instead there’s a sleek silver Jaguar. “What’s this?”

“Your chariot. I wasn’t about to drive my work truck around for the week.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. This is fun for me. It’s a change from the norm.” He brushes his thumb over the scruff on my face. “You didn’t shave.”

Even as I blush, I shake my head and admit, “I wanted to do something different from my days in Paris. Every red carpet or building unveiling I went to, the fashion mags would talk about my baby face. I spent a lot of time maintaining that smooth face. I thought it would be fun to play with gender even more and keep the facial hair with my makeup.” I crinkle my brow. “Does it look bad?”

---