Always My Babygirl A Billionaire Romance - Jane Henry Page 0,40
ones I’m wearing now are seriously damp.
What could he do to me that he hasn’t already done? I think of things he’s said to me. Things he wanted to do to me.
I want to do them all.
Sam’s face pops into the doorway of my office. I startle, looking up, hoping the thoughts of guilty pleasures aren’t written all over my face. She gives me a look of concern. “Your cheeks are flush. Are you hot? Want me to crank the air up?”
“That’d be great.” I pull my damp blouse from my chest, airing out. “It’s… getting a little hot in here.”
“Okay, I’ll do it on my way out. I’m leaving now. Need anything before I go?” She pulls her purse strap over her shoulder.
I wave her on. “Nope. Thanks for coming in and I’m sorry I wasn’t here the past few days.”
“Miranda. Seriously? You had a family emergency. Don’t apologize.” She gives me a stern look. Sometimes I swear she’s got her own daddy dom tendencies.
I hold back a laugh. “Well, thanks anyway. I know it’s your day off.”
She rolls her eyes. “Please. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I wasn’t working.”
“Same.” At least, that’s how I felt until I met Gabriel. Now I can think of a hundred other things I’d rather be doing…
“I’ve got to scram or I’ll be late to my pole dance workout class. Oh, and be sure to fill me in on your date next time I see you.”
“Have fun and try not to break something.”
“Ha! Or sprain my vagina. You should see the stuff they have us doing. Bye, hon!” She blows me a kiss, heading out.
I wrap up a few things, then check the time. It’s five. I’ve got enough time to get back to my apartment and take a quick shower before the glam squad arrives. Game on.
Back at home, I pour myself a glass of wine. I take a quick shower. Stand in front of my closet, naked, trying to decide what to wear. Forget it. They’re bringing everything I need. I wrap a fluffy white towel around my body and sit down on the sofa to enjoy the rest of my cabernet.
Three bangs sound out from the door. I go to open it. An entourage of chatting, laughing, vibrantly dressed people push their way past me.
“Sit down, sit down, girl. Drink that wine. You don’t have to lift a finger.” A man who’s well over six feet tall with rippling muscles and chestnut skin reaches out to shake my hand. “Dimitri. Pleasure to meet you, Miranda. What are we working with here, gang?”
“Hi. Thank you for coming.”
He lifts a strand of my hair. “Okay, looks like we’ve got a natural blonde. I’d put her at a level nine, with professional highlights that have lifted her to an eleven. Girl, who does your lowlights? They look fantastic.”
“Oh, I go to Diva Darlings over on—”
He cuts me off, clapping his hands. “Chop, chop, people! Time is money.”
I hear the clicking open of cases, the unzipping of garment bags. Dimitri focuses on my face. With furrowed brows, he investigates every inch. “We’ve got dark circles and I think I spot... is that what I think it is? Oh no, girl. Not on my watch. Barbie, get over here and take care of this. Yesterday.”
A tiny woman with black hair rushes over, a kit in her hand. She looks past me, staring at my chin. “Confirmed. We’ve got a blemish trying to make its way to the surface. I. Am. On it.”
I take a sip from my wine, watching the circus unfold before me. They chat amongst themselves and soon it's as if I’m not even in the room. I’m like a canvas they’re going to paint, and I quite like it. After the whirlwind trip to my mom’s and Gabriel keeping me up past two a.m., I find the moment to be relaxing.
My hair is blown out then curled into shiny waves. My brows plucked, then drawn in fuller. My skin moisturized, concealed, and powdered. My fingernails and toenails are being manicured, and this decadent smelling lotion slathered on... everywhere. My only complaint is that with no free hands and Barbie lining my lips, I can’t drink more wine.
“Can I have a straw for my wine?”
She chuckles, and soon, my wine glass is in my hand and I’m drinking it like it’s chocolate milk in a grade school cafeteria. I sigh.
Barbie draws back her hand, looking me over, lip gloss