The "Stylist" | Book I in a Series of Mistaken Identities

YOUR MOVE

Charles

Valerie's eyes narrow at me; he knows exactly what I'm doing, and I can't help but smirk.

"Valerie," Jimmy points towards me, "a pocket square please."

Valerie turns on the spot, grabs a tray of pocket squares, and brings them over for me to see. Cindy wasn't lying, these are very nice indeed. I'd know, I have some of these at home.

"The green one," I look up at Valerie whose brows knit like I've just chosen the words ugliest pocket square imaginable.

Valerie shakes her head, "You don't want that one, pick another one."

"Give him the green one," Jimmy interjects but I put up my hand to stop him.

She stands her ground, "No."

Well, this is certainly interesting. I'm not used to hearing 'no' very often, and right now my brain seems to take a moment to compute her words. Maybe this is her schtick? Pretend not to be interested in me to get me interested? Wow, I really need to check my ego.

Maybe later, right now I will keep my eyes glued onto this stunning siren before me, "Why don't I want the green one?"

"Just trust me, pick another," she takes the green pocket square and shoves it into her back pocket.

Now I really want that green one, but if I go after it, I'd undoubtedly be in some legal hot water, "Trust you? I don't even know you, and you want me to trust you with something as important as a pocket square?"

I notice the subtle tugging on the corners of Valerie's lips, but she doesn't bless me with her gorgeous smile. That almost hurts my feelings. I'll just have to try harder.

Valerie sighs and rolls her eyes, something I'm not used to. I'm sure people roll their eyes at me all the time, but they never do it straight to my face. She puts down the tray and picks up the navy pocket square and starts to fold it.

"The green one is an Alexander Finneus," she says matter-of-factly glancing up at me as she continues to fold the square, "It might be plain, but that specific shade of green is his signature color for his upcoming line."

She's absolutely right, I don't want the green one. Alexander Finneus got into hot water about five years ago when it was discovered he was using an illegal labor force in Asia to produce a lot of his accessories. I made it very clear this was not a practice I supported. It would be an embarrassment to me and everything I stand for if I were to be photographed in anything he produced.

"This is where you say;" she deepens her voice, imitating me, "Thank you, Valerie, you just saved my perfect ass from a media frenzy."

As Valerie takes a step closer to put the ready square into my breast pocket, she brazenly stands between my legs, and I can't help but take a deep breath of her sugary, sweet scent mingled with coffee, "Thank you, Valerie, for noticing my perfect ass."

Valerie just sniggers, but the blush that peppers her cheeks gives her away, "You're very welcome Mr. Knight."

I take the opportunity to examine her up close. Absolutely radiant, "What do you think of the shoot so far?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want to hear the answer to," she mutters quietly to make sure no one else can hear.

"Tell me. I insist." Valerie glances up at me with a hint of panic.

I'm clearly putting her on the spot, she's an assistant, and assistants aren't meant to have opinions let alone express them in front of their superiors. If she doesn't think it's going well, it's almost like she's begging me not to push the issue. Next time just come fix the damned tie.

"What would you do differently?" I challenge her.

Valerie shakes her head at me ever so gently pursing those perfect lips. Valerie leans back and pretends to study me, "Lose the jacket."

Nothing and no one else exists right now; it's just her and me, and maybe this stool my ass is planted on.

When I stand up to undo my jacket Valerie doesn't move back, and I can't help but notice how close we are to one another. I loom over her as I take it off. She's not short, I'm just unnaturally tall.

I hand her my jacket and she nonchalantly tosses it on the floor and gets to work loosening my tie.

"Sit down please," I do as I'm told.

She tosses my tie onto my jacket and undoes the first button of my shirt. Valerie looks at me with her head tilted to the side and decides to undo another button.

"Amanda, can I have that water spritzer thing?" She looks over at the hair stylist who rushes to get it while Valerie gets to work taking off my cufflinks and rolling up my sleeves.

Valerie takes off my very expensive gold watch, "Careful with that." She shoots me a wink before putting the watch on her wrist and sliding it up her arm so it doesn't fall off.

She takes the bottle from Amanda and looks at me, "Close your eyes."

I narrow my eyes at her for a moment before closing them and she starts spritzing my hair with a fine mist of water. She leans in closer as she works her fingers through my hair. I hear her start humming a song as if she's thoroughly enjoying herself.

This woman is clearly not intimidated by me, and that's not usually the case with people I've just met. I imagine what it would be like to have her running her hands through my hair in bed, what she might sound or taste like.

I stop myself from letting my mind wander. I'd hate to have a repeat of what happened outside.

"Open," the moment I open my eyes she smiles, "Oh look, an approachable human being. Who knew?"

Valerie goes to pick up my discarded items and giving me a great view of her ass which I find myself taking a not so subtle sneak peek of.

The photographer takes a shot, and the flashing lights snap me out of whatever spell Valerie just put me under.

I reposition myself on the stool and look at the camera ready for another shot.