Page 26 of Black Ties and White Lies

Opening the door, I find her holding up exactly what I’d envisioned pairing the dress with if I was dressing it down. I grab them, thanking her and shutting the door again. Taking a seat, I slip each one on. I pull them all the way up my leg until there’s only a small amount of skin showing between the top of the boot and the bottom of my dress. There are laces on the back of the boots that fall to mid-calf.

The boots are a perfect fit. I have no idea how Beck knew the things he did, but by the first outfit and the way it fits, he didn’t do bad at all when he filled out the information for the appointment.

Instead of looking in the mirror in the small room, I open the door and step into the larger area where both Beck and Quincy wait. Quincy stands next to the mirror, beaming as I take a step onto the platform and do a small twirl.

“That looks stunning,” she notes, making eye contact through the mirror. “What do you think? Do you love it or did I miss the mark?”

I stick a leg out, taking in the complete outfit in the mirror. “You didn’t miss the mark at all. I love the look of it. Totally my style. And everything fits perfectly.”

Quincy looks in Beck’s direction. “Well, I had some help.” I follow her gaze to Beck. I hate the twinge of disappointment when I find him paying close attention to his phone.

I watch him for a few seconds longer, willing him to look at me. For some inexplicable reason, I want him to look me up and down. I want him to look at the small amount of thigh showing and have him wonder what it’d feel like underneath his touch. I want to observe his every reaction as he takes in the way the dress clings to my back, showing off my curves in a way that leaves little to the imagination.

All the willpower in the world doesn’t get him to look at me. Eventually, I turn around and return Quincy’s smile despite the feeling of disappointment I feel in my stomach.

“I’m in love,” I confirm, spinning all the way around on the platform and letting out a small giggle.

“Perfect,” Quincy notes, returning to the rack full of clothes. “Let’s see what else I can get you to fall in love with.”

Margo’s beautyis as equally captivating as it is frustrating.

As Quincy fusses over one of the many outfits she’s tried on, I continue to pretend to focus on my phone. Sitting in this dressing room as Margo plays dress up is the last thing I should be doing right now. I’ve got a never ending to-do list thanks to my impromptu urge to drop everything and fly to California to finally convince Margo to hear me out and agree to my offer. After coming home last night and using today to get her situated instead of working, there’s a list a mile long of shit I need to get done.

I could’ve easily sent Margo to do this alone. At first, that’d been exactly the plan. I was going to have Ezra drop me off at the office before he dropped her off on Fifth Avenue to buy whatever she wanted. Last minute I frustratingly changed the plan, deciding to come with her as opposed to getting work done.

“I don’t think I’ve disliked a single thing you picked out,” Margo tells Quincy. From the corner of my eye, I see her turn to look at herself at all angles in the mirror.

“I’m happy to hear that. I need to do another sweep to bring in some more options for you. Any requests while I go look?”

Margo stops spinning. I can feel her watching me from the mirror, but I fight the urge to look up and meet her eyes. I’m still dwelling on the moment from earlier and the stark realization that I wanted to ravish the mouth of my little brother’s ex-girlfriend.

If Quincy hadn’t shown up, I would’ve done it. I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself. Margo’s mouth looked so kissable. I wanted to turn her lips a different color with the assault of my mouth against hers. I wanted to witness the tan skin around her mouth turn pink from the crash of our lips. I’d wanted it so bad that I was going to take it without any thought of the repercussions or thoughts on the so-called terms she’d laid out.

The jury’s still out if Quincy showing up was a blessing or a curse. But one thing’s for sure, the thought of Margo stripping her clothing behind the door to my left has distracted me way more than I’d care to admit. It’s taken everything in me to not demand Quincy leave so I could follow Margo into the room, shut the door and finish what we’d started in the elevator.

The memory of my heart pounding against my chest when I’d come to the realization I wanted to kiss the woman who was my assistant and my soon-to-be fake fiancée has me devoting my time to answering emails on my phone. It’s the only thing keeping myself in check.

Apparently, I’ve missed bits and pieces of a conversation between Margo and Quincy. When I get out of my head, I find Quincy standing at the door to the VIP suite. The look on my face must look confused enough that she feels the need to explain. “I’m going to go pick out a few more casual”—she winks at Margo—“outfits. As well as a few more pieces that can be dressed up and down.”

I give a quick nod, my pulse thumping at the idea of being left alone in here with the woman who’s taking up way too much of my headspace.

By the time I look away from Quincy, Margo has stepped back into the private dressing room.

I sigh, running a hand down my face as I do everything in my power to keep myself planted on this couch. My intentions weren’t entirely pure when I decided to offer Margo the fake fiancée agreement. But I hadn’t had the intention of allowing myself to kiss her quite yet. The thought alone makes everything more complicated than what it’s supposed to be. It doesn’t change the fact that I ache to do it, consequences be damned.

The fact is that after watching Margo watch me in eager anticipation, her heavy breaths confirming she wants to kiss me as bad as I want to kiss her, I can’t think of anything else.

My phone vibrates, a fortunate distraction, as my eyes watch the door she stands behind. My pulse runs rampant at the thought of her undressing behind the door. I can’t help but mentally picture what she hides underneath her clothes. I want to study every inch of her bare skin, paying close enough attention to every inch the same way she does before she sketches someone.

An aggravated growl involuntarily falls from my lips as my cock hardens in my pants.

Get it the hell together.

The truth is, no other woman has captivated me the way she does. I don’t know if it’s the knowledge that she and I are going to pretend to be in love that has me losing grip on the situation or if it’s something else entirely.

I’m having a battle of willpower with myself when Margo speaks up from behind the closed door. “Uh, Beck?” she asks, her voice hesitant.

I look up from my phone to the door. “Yes?”

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