Follow Me Darkly (Follow Me #1) - Helen Hardt Page 0,19

I walk around the city a bit and find myself in front of my favorite bakery—a bakery that also makes erotic cakes. I go in on a whim.

“May I help you?” a young woman asks.

“Yeah.” Please let my voice not crack. “I need a baguette, please.”

Chicken.

She bags one for me. “Anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

I pay for the baguette and walk to the door.

And wonder what Braden is doing at this same moment.

…

Back at the office, Addison is making the final arrangements with Susanne Cosmetics. They finally upped their offer to two hundred grand, so this afternoon, we’re shooting the lip plumper post. Apparently that’s the amount necessary for Addie to pimp a product that’s supposed to get rid of lip lines. Turning twenty-nine has sent her into a tailspin.

I’ve set up a mini studio in the office, where I can adjust the lighting as needed. We’ll shoot today’s post there.

I’m getting the space ready when Addie storms in.

“Change of plans. They want the shot at the Susanne counter at Macy’s.”

“Crap. Really?”

“Yeah. I tried to talk them out of it.”

“Department stores are the worst.”

“I know,” she says. “The lighting’s atrocious, but that’s what I have you for. You can work your magic.”

I warm slightly. That’s what passes for a compliment from Addison Ames. I’ll take what I can get. She appreciates me—I know that. She just doesn’t show it very well most of the time.

“Sure. You want to go now?”

“Yeah. We’ll close up, and then you can take the rest of the day off.”

I keep myself from laughing. It’s nearly three thirty. The shoot will take at least an hour, and then I’ll be monitoring it for the next hour for negative comments. So much for getting “the rest” of the day off.

In her way, though, she thinks she’s doing me a favor. It’s the diva’s way.

Macy’s is only a block away, so we walk, which means Addie will fuss with her hair for fifteen minutes or so before we begin.

The Susanne Cosmetics counter isn’t busy. Only one or two customers are looking at products. That will change after today. Tons of women will want the new Burgundy Orchid shade of Susanne lip plumper. I hope they have enough in stock to accommodate the thousands who will want their lips to look like they just finished a grape Popsicle.

“May I help you?” a salesperson asks us.

“I’m Addison Ames,” Addie says. “We’re here to do a selfie with the new lip plumper.”

“I’m not aware of that.”

“Call corporate. They’ll confirm it. This is my assistant, Skye.”

“Yes, nice to meet you. I’ll have to verify all of this with the store.”

“With all due respect”—Addie glances at the employee’s name tag—“Blanche, we don’t need permission from the store to take a selfie. This is a public place.”

“Still, I—”

“She’s right,” I say. “We do this all the time.”

Blanche sighs. “I don’t want to get in any trouble.”

“You won’t. We brought our own plumper and everything.” Addie gazes in one of the mirrors. “God, my hair is ghastly. Where’s the restroom, Blanche?”

“The south corner.”

“Thanks. I’ll only be a minute, Skye.”

I nod. Yeah. Make that fifteen minutes at least. I walk around the cosmetics counter to find the best area to shoot the photo. Then I pull out my phone to check comments on the pretzel post and maybe get through some email while I wait.

I pull up Instagram. Hmm, I have a notification. I click.

And my heart stampedes.

I have a new request to follow me.

@bradenblackinc

Chapter Twelve

My Instagram is private, which is why Braden has to make a request. I actually deleted quite a few requests earlier today from people I didn’t recognize. They probably wanted to follow me only because I was tagged in Braden’s oyster post the other night.

To accept or not to accept?

That is the question.

He literally kicked me out of his bedroom last night.

Okay, not literally. But I’m not that far off.

He said he got an important message on his phone he had to deal with—apparently billionaires have to deal with important stuff late at night—and went into his office, while I dressed as quickly as I could. I left the room to find Christopher already in the living area petting Sasha.

“Ready to go, Ms. Manning?”

I nodded and knelt down to give Sasha a scratch behind her ears. “Yeah. Thanks.”

What transpired next was a repeat of the previous night. I followed Christopher into the elevator, and he pressed the button. The car was waiting in the garage level. Christopher opened the door for me,