I’m not even as ensconced in this industry as you are. And you’re passionate about your work. That’s what really counts.”
“You’re not passionate about the fashion industry, are you?” Riley wondered if once Fashion Week was over, Chaz would return to Miami and to his media corporation.
He shrugged. “I’ve sort of been on the outskirts of the industry all my life. Living in that gray area I like.” He grinned and Riley thought how liberating it must be to create a safe space to live and not give a damn what anyone thought about it.
“But I have to admit using my skills to create a brand that best represents my uncle and his vision for the company has been fun. I mean, I never actually thought I had a place at King Designs because it wasn’t like my father had built that company. I figured I’d have to make my own place in this world and I have. I love what I’ve built at Conversation Media and I’d never totally walk away from that. Speaking of which, the new app is launching on Thursday, the day before our show.”
“Oh, wow, you really do have a big week. Well, I just might download the ChatMe app to see what it’s all about.”
“It’s not a dating app.” He said those words quickly. “Not that you would ever need an app to help find a date.”
“No,” she replied, a bit more sober now than she’d been just a few seconds ago. “I don’t usually think much about dating.”
They fell silent and Chaz ran his thumb over the back of her hand.
“We’ve been having a good time, haven’t we?”
She nodded. “Yes. We have. I didn’t really know what to expect, but yeah, this has been fun.”
“Fun enough to keep going? I mean, to continue seeing each other?”
Hadn’t this been what Riley thought about all weekend?
“I’d like that.” The words slipped easily from her lips just as the car pulled up in front of her building. She looked out the window and then back to Chaz.
He leaned over and touched his lips lightly to hers.
“I know you have to go. The talented Riley Gold has to be great this week. And I, the outsider, have a lot to do, as well. So we’ll talk about this after we’ve both survived Fashion Week.”
His voice was a deep whisper against her lips and Riley eased in for another kiss. “Yes, we’ll definitely talk about this when this week is over.”
Their next kiss was longer, slower and sweeter than Riley had ever experienced. She loved it and did not want it to end.
“I’ll call you later,” he said when they pulled apart.
Riley smiled. “Or I’ll call you.”
Chaz grinned and in the next second the driver was opening the door for her.
* * *
Twelve hours later a tired but invigorated Riley pulled into the garage and parked her car before taking the elevator up to the penthouse. Her stomach growled as she walked through the door and Riley immediately thought about ordering a pizza. It was a little after eight in the evening and she hadn’t eaten since a tuna sandwich at two in the afternoon. She knew there was something in her freezer that she could just pop into the microwave, but she wanted pizza with everything on it and fries.
She wanted that connection to Chaz.
Speaking of which, once she was in her bedroom and had kicked off her heels, Riley reached into her purse for her phone. No call or text from Chaz, not since earlier in the day when he’d checked to see if she’d eaten lunch, which she’d dutifully ordered as soon as she hung up with him. Her afternoon had been swamped and she figured his had been, too, so she sent a quick text.
Thinking about you.
It was honest and sincere and the first time she’d ever said such a thing to a man. Riley smiled with how good it made her feel. She was about to grab some pajamas and head into the bathroom for a shower when her doorbell rang. A giddy flutter whirled through her stomach as she hoped it was Chaz surprising her with dinner and company for the evening. Her penthouse suddenly seemed too big for just her and definitely too quiet. But when Riley walked back into the living room and excitedly pulled the door open, her happiness faded fast.
“Hey, Dad. RJ. Come on in.”
“We need to talk.” Her father’s tone was brisk as he removed his coat