room while Nina was changing. Thankfully, no undergarment lines showed and when she turned to glimpse the dress from the back, she smiled at the admirable, definitive curve of her ass.
The dress was gorgeous and more expensive than anything she’d ever worn before. She knew because there was no price attached. The only tag on these clothes was RGF Style or RGold Original, which equated to expensive because those were the signature lines at the fashion house. RGolden Label was their couture line and all other lines simply had the RGF logo attached somewhere on the inside of the garment.
The material of the dress was impossibly soft and hung decadently over her usually too-curvy butt and hips. Her body looked great in this dress, even with the slight pouch of a belly that on bloated days could push her into the next pant size.
Garen, the hair stylist came over and pulled Nina’s hair up, leaving out a few tendrils.
Lila stood behind her to one side and Riley was on the other.
“I think this is it,” Nina said as she continued to look at the shimmering material.
“With these shoes and the pounded-metal cuff. Cheree!” Lila yelled to one of her assistants and set a pair of silver, five-inch-heel slingbacks next to Nina’s feet.
One by one, Nina slipped her feet into the shoes and waited while Anya, another assistant, buckled the straps.
Cheree placed the pounded-metal bracelet on her right wrist.
“Classy and retro. Not only will folk in the industry not have a clue who you are, they’re gonna fall over themselves trying to label your style. We’re gonna use this moment to set the stage for a whirlwind of different looks that will put you at the top of the fashion game.” Lila was obviously excited as she nodded her head, hair swaying over one shoulder.
For a moment Nina didn’t know who she was. This wasn’t why she’d come to New York. But it was beginning to be a hell of a lot of fun!
CHAPTER FIVE
“WHAT ARE YOU laughing at?”
Major frowned as Maurice chuckled.
“You and this crazy situation you’ve gotten yourself into,” his brother responded.
“First, I didn’t get myself into this situation, it just happened.”
Maurice frowned now, his full brows tilting downward, which added a more ominous look to the thick beard he sported.
“You’re the one who suggested this tech woman become your fake fiancée.”
“Yeah, but I’m not the one who came up with the whole fake fiancée idea in the first place. Oh no, that was Desta’s brilliance, which you happily cosigned.” Major walked around the king-size four-poster in his room, trying his best to ignore the suit, shirt and tie that had been laid out neatly on one side of the mattress.
Maurice had left the office and followed him to his penthouse. For what reason, Major didn’t know. But considering what his brother was doing at this moment—lounging with one leg draped over the arm of a leather recliner across the room, staring at him and making irritating comments—he would assume his presence was meant to antagonize him to no end. If that were the case, he was doing a damn good job.
“We needed a plan, something that would grab the customer’s attention and keep it riveted on the Golden Bride line.”
Major shook his head as he yanked his shirt out of his pants before pulling it over his head and off. “And I look like the one to do that?”
“Your reputation—” Maurice started, but Major quickly cut him off.
“I’m not the one with a reputation, man. You know that’s all you. You’re the one who flaunts every affair you have. Hell, you pose for pictures for all those photographers and tabloid workers. You give them so much ammunition.”
“I wasn’t named the Fashion House Playboy. A snub, I might add, I’m still considering being salty about.” Maurice gave a fake pout.
Major tossed his shirt into the hamper a few feet away and sat heavily on the bed—his back to the clothes. “Those dates were a coincidence. And, actually, one was a favor to Mom and Dad. I couldn’t say anything about it because it would have embarrassed poor Hannah Lincoln, whose parents didn’t want her to go out in public alone because her jet-setting, race-car-driving boyfriend had just dumped her.”
Major’s head fell back and he groaned. He loved his mother above all else in this world, but if she ever called his cell phone and started the conversation with, “Hi, my favorite son,” again, he was hanging up on her.