Chapter Fifteen

Bianca

Unlike the other London shows I’d attended so far, Stefan’s catwalk had the front row reserved for VIPs. I wasn’t too surprised since it was long established that the guests in the front row usually defined the popularity and standing of the designer. Clearly, Stefan wanted his front row to scream Stefan’s the man! Or something like that.

Knox was in the third row, and I suddenly felt like I was in a classroom, separated by assigned seating from the boy I wanted so desperately to sit next to and pass notes with. Chuckling to myself, I pulled my phone out since it was still early and the guests were trickling in.

Bianca: Sitting in the front of the classroom feels like a punishment.

Knox: Not if you’re a good little girl.

Bianca: Get real, do I seem like that?

Knox: I think given the right motivation, you could be a very good girl.

Bianca: I don’t know, I’m a very take-charge kind of girl, but I’d be willing to test out your theory.

Knox: I like the sound of that.

Knox: Now, about the front row. . . you got lucky. I’m sitting behind an extremely tall dude. I think this guy missed his calling. He should be playing basketball, not sitting here doing whatever he’s doing at fashion week.

I peered back and stifled a laugh as I saw a really tall guy, but no Knox in sight. Here I thought Knox was tall at a little over six feet, but this guy easily had to have been pushing seven feet. I felt bad for everyone behind him.

Bianca: You’re right, I can’t see you. You’ll have to take a selfie and send it to me.

Knox: *sends selfie*

Oof, if they were to put a picture next to the word “sexy” in the dictionary, you’d bet your pretty, little butt, his picture would be there. I swear, he makes my toes curl.

Bianca: Now that’s a screensaver.

That sounded weird and yet my finger hovered over the save button. The temptation was strong. Uhh. . . what to do, what to do. Screw it, I was saving it. I could call it a souvenir from London.

Knox: Well, then it’s only fair I have one of you, too.

I pulled up the camera and was about to send him one when all of a sudden I heard, “Bianca.” Looking up, I saw Rina taking the pamphlet off the chair next to me.

“Hi, Rina. So I guess we’re sitting next to each other,” I stated the obvious, and sent a quick text back to Knox.

Bianca: Later.

Then I closed the screen on my phone and shoved it in my purse on my lap.

She sighed audibly as she took her seat. “Seems so.”

Well, this was awkward.

And it shouldn’t have been, right?

Well, as long as you didn’t consider knowing you were in a love triangle awkward. If you did, then yes, this was awkward, no other way to put it.

But I wasn’t going to let it be.

“So how do you know Stefan?” Let’s be real, if she was in the front row as a designer herself, she knew Stefan.

She fussed with the tassels on her purse. “He was my mentor, actually.”

I knew my mom had connected her with a designer who then plucked her from New York, I just didn’t know that designer was Stefan. “Oh,” I replied simply. Then I smiled. “Well, he must be very proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished.”

“Yes, well, it wasn’t without hard work.”

I had my own thoughts on that one—like it wasn’t just hard work, but also connections, like my mother’s—but I was keeping my mouth shut. It just wasn’t worth it, and I knew my mother would agree with me.

Just then classical music began playing and smoke appeared to rise from the floor. “The show’s starting,” I noted, never quite so happy for anything in my life because, it turned out, even if I didn’t want it to be awkward that was exactly what this was.

* * *

Rina

As the third model made her way past us and continued strutting, I couldn’t seem to let go of the fact that Bianca hadn’t said anything when I made my remark about hard work. Why was that? Did she not believe me? Did she think my road had been easy? If anyone, I would’ve thought she would have known how hard it was for me since she knew where I came from.

Not that she’d understand. She was practically Long Island royalty and had been since birth.

Before the next model came out, I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “You know, you may not think much of me, but Knox does.”

Her ears perked up and her eyes left the stage, turning to me. That got her attention.

I mean, how stupid did she think I was? Maybe they weren’t a couple, but she clearly had the hots for him. It was written all over her makeup-covered face.

Bianca rolled her eyes, leaned over, and said in a low voice, “I never said any such thing. You’re clearly projecting.” Then she added, “As for Knox, I don’t know what he has to do with anything, but that’s obviously between you and him.”

Covering my face with my pamphlet, I looked at her and whispered back, “That’s right and you’d be wise to remember that. It’s Knox and I.”

A deep-V was etched between her eyebrows, and she angled her head. Her eyes darted between me and the catwalk like she wanted to know more, but also wasn’t sure she should ask.

I figured I might as well help her out since she obviously wasn’t getting it. So I explained, “In case you didn’t get the memo, honey, I’m fighting for him. If you think that I’m just going to sit back and let you take him from me, you’re wrong.”

She rolled her eyes and pointed forward, obviously thinking she was better than me. Righteous witch.

Maybe she was right, and this wasn’t the time or place, but she’d learn soon enough that I was serious.

* * *

Bianca

In my book, fighting for him didn’t equate to having him, so how could I take something that wasn’t hers?

She was making a pretty big leap there.

Besides, it just didn’t add up.

Knox and Rina.

Rina and Knox.

Rina, the self-absorbed diva, and Knox, the all-around good guy, who just asked me for a selfie, who had been flirting with me since the airport.

I shook my head. She was definitely miscalculating things.

Turning my attention back to the show, I decided we’d just have to wait and see.

* * *

Knox

Any normal man would’ve been fully immersed in the after-party experience, probably with a woman or two on their lap. You know, like the guy in the corner of the room, who was currently enjoying the companionship of two ladies as they hung on his every word.

Fashion shows were professional. For people like me, they were about making the right connections and getting both my name and the name of the publication I worked for out there.

But after-parties. . . they were made to socialize, drink, dance and relax. Basically, it was as laidback as it got, just in a fashionable way. See, everyone came dressed to impress, and I wasn’t talking street style, either. That was for the daytime. Tonight, I, myself, was wearing a designer suit. Most women took this opportunity to wear high-end designers, highlighting their sense of style and their best assets, if you knew what I meant.

I had to do a double-take as I spotted Bianca joining the party. She looked sophisticated yet sexy as ever in black, knee-high, lace up heels that had her painted toes peeping out. She wore a cream-colored dress that looked like a big cable-knit sweater but with a mouthwatering cutout on her stomach that crept up to just under her perky breasts and a zipper up the side. She had no problem dressing in a way that showed off her best assets, and I was a warm-blooded man, so of course I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. And naturally, all I could think about was the soft underside of her breasts that were just barely hidden by the fabric.

As she made her rounds, talking to the designer first, then influencers and celebrities that I had just finished talking with myself, all I could think about was when I’d get to talk to her.

But I was a patient man, I could wait.

Who was I kidding? With Bianca I’d been feeling anything but patient lately.

I’d also been feeling anything but generous. Like with these men and the way they looked at her. It just didn’t sit well with me.

I didn’t need the ability to read their filthy minds to know what they were thinking. Heck, I was thinking it.

Not that I had any right to.

But she felt like my Bianca these days. And there was something I’d have to unpack later.

“Hey, handsome, what’s got your attention?”

I turned to face Rina, who was now leaning her side onto the bar as she took me in. Although, the way she was looking at me reminded me of an animal silently watching their prey. It made me feel on-edge and more than a little uncomfortable.

“Knox, you clean up nicely.”

For some reason, coming out of her mouth, it seemed insincere, like there was something more she was trying to get at. Quick analysis: with old Rina, what she said was what she meant; with new Rina, up was down and down was up, I didn’t know what was going on half the time in her head. I swirled the scotch in my glass around, and shot back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rina ran a finger down my arm, but desire didn’t pulse through my body like it should have. Instead, I felt the sudden urge to scratch where she touched because her finger actually made me itchy. She clearly thought it was working, though, because she gave me a sensual look I’d never seen on her before. She flashed a warm smile my way before raking her top teeth over her bottom lip. But instead it looked like she bit herself because her nose wrinkled in discomfort and she began wetting her lips profusely.

Honestly, I hated to be that guy, but she was trying too hard and desperation wasn’t an attractive color on her.

“Come on,” she retorted, “you used to bum around in sweats.”

“Well, I still wouldn’t wear this around my apartment, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Ignoring my remark, she rolled her eyes, took my drink from my hand without hesitation and downed the rest of it before seething. “I don’t know how you drink that stuff.”

“I like it, and you’ve never enjoyed scotch, so what made you think you’d like it now?”

She shrugged, the puffy sleeve on her dress hitting her cheek. If you needed a picture, let’s just say, Rina was wearing an over-the-top black dress that was both a mini dress and swept the floor with a train of some sort coming off her hip.

“Guess you could say I missed the taste of you,” she finally answered.

“Swapping saliva, that’s your answer?”

Looking out at the crowd now, she frowned. “Let me guess, when I got here, it wasn’t what that had your attention, but rather who ?”

I didn’t answer, only stared at her. There was no right answer. Only the truth and the lie that I knew would make her feel better.

I wasn’t a bad guy, you know. I didn’t like to see Rina upset.

I exhaled and raked a hand through my hair before grabbing her chin with my hand and making her face me again. “If you’re really trying to fight for me, you might want to try being yourself. Remember, I never had a problem with the real you.”

Meanwhile, I wasn’t so sure Rina didn’t have a problem with the real me. I was fine with her fighting for me, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was genuinely at odds over it. Here was where my head was at:

Rina had broken up with me without a second thought. I’d never heard from her until our accidental run-in here in London.

But we did have a history, and I knew what I was getting with her. For the most part anyway. She’d obviously changed. Although, people didn’t change that much, did they?

And maybe we needed to break up to get where we were today.

So there you go, you just got a front row seat to what I’d been thinking as far as Rina was concerned, and that was why I couldn’t just tell her to get lost.

Back to the present, though, Rina’s eyes flitted between me and Bianca across the room. But this wasn’t about Bianca. This was about me and Rina.

“I think we could be good together, Knox.” So she’d said before.

I dropped my hold on her and let my gaze fall to her red shoes. Where was the woman who wore ballet flats? “I don’t doubt it, but it’s been a long time.”

As I looked back up, her eyes went wide and she brought a hand to my cheek, letting it trace all the way down to my jaw. I felt nothing, by the way, in terms of attraction.

“I’ll be in Milan next week. You’re going to be there, too, right? We could meet up.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” I asked, not that I expected she would. She always was like a dog with a bone, even as a teenager.

“I wasn’t kidding, Knox. We’ve both finally made it and I want us to get back together. I’m going to show you how good we can be again.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant and if I was prepared for whatever she had in store, but we both knew I had little say in the matter.

I blamed my penchant for strong-minded women.

“Rina,” I started, not sure what I was going to say next. Not that it mattered anyway, because she stopped me.

“I better find Stefan and make my rounds.”

I watched as she walked away, her red heels taking each step in stride, but not without tossing me a look over her shoulder. “What is she doing?”

“What’s who doing?” What is it with people interrupting my thoughts tonight? I shook my head to clear away the fog and my eyes fell on Bianca.

Finally, the one woman I wanted to talk to tonight was standing before me and I tried my hardest not to let my gaze lust downward. It seemed I did a lot of that where Bianca was concerned. What could I say? Bianca had a great rack and she showed it off in everything she wore.

“Rina,” Bianca said, angling her head in her direction.

I shrugged. “Doing what she does best apparently—networking.”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “She’s intense.” Shaking her head, she added, “You know what, I don’t want to talk about her. The night’s still young. We look great, let’s have some fun.”

I cocked a brow. “What’d you have in mind?”

She brought her hand to her hair and started wrapping a lock of it around her finger. Wetting her lips, she pointed to some blond-haired guy over in the corner. “Do you see that guy over there?” She brought her finger to my chest and I wanted it to trail further down. I was addicted to her touch. “He asked me to dance—”

“I’d think twice about that if I were you.” I narrowed my eyes and grabbed her finger, holding it in my hand.

Her eyes danced with amusement. So she was enjoying toying with me.

“You dance with me,” I threatened, “or you dance with no one.”

“Good,” she responded simply, shifting her weight to one side as she jutted out her hip. “Because you’re the only one I’m interested in dancing with anyway.”

I dropped the grip I had on her and placed a hand on the small of her back as I led her out on the dance floor. A new song had just started, so it was perfect timing. Only thing was, it was R&B, and it was sensual. Very sensual.

And all I could think about was that cutout on her stomach, how I wanted to touch the skin that peeked out. With my hand. My tongue.

With her eyes on mine, she directed to me, “You know, I took pole dancing lessons earlier this year.” Shit, why would she say that? Imagining her legs wrapped around a pole, sliding down it, twirling around it, holding onto it for dear life as she stretched herself around it—if I didn’t stop picturing her pole dancing we were going to have a big problem.

I placed my hands on her hips and moved to the music as she brought her hands up my neck and in my hair, her body coming closer to mine. All the while her hips were moving in such a way that drove me crazy.

Bianca was an attention-seeker, whether she cared to admit it or not, and I wouldn’t change that for the world, but I did wonder what that was about.

I didn’t need to look around to know that, just as was the case when she arrived, every man—and woman, frankly—had their eyes on her.

They were mesmerized by her.

Captivated.

Enthralled by her beauty.

Her pure sensuality.

I knew the feeling well.

I wasn’t even shocked that she’d taken pole dancing lessons—when I said this, I meant it: her body could move.

It was like an instrument that she played masterfully.

“You’re trouble, Bianca.”

A glimmer of mischief sparkled in her eyes. “You haven’t even seen the half of it.” Then she spun around so we were front to back and I finally let my hands slip to her stomach, backing her up against me. She felt just as I imagined—soft.

Ironically enough, it made me hard as my brain started going to all the other places on her body where she’d be just as soft. “Something tells me you’re a handful,” I said into the side of her neck, commanding myself to keep my wits about me. I’d say this: with Bianca that was no easy feat.

When the song changed, I spun her back around and pulled her toward me, her breath hitching as her eyes connected with mine. She stared at me as though searching for something. Focused on each other, our breathing was in-sync—she inhaled, I inhaled. I exhaled, she exhaled.

My gaze fell to her lips. She looked at mine.

Just as I was about to lean in and give us both what we wanted, a voice rang in my ears—“It’s getting a little stuffy in here, don’t you guys think?”

The sing-song way Rina spoke must’ve pushed Bianca’s buttons because her head snapped to Rina. Keeping her cool, though, I watched her exhale and put a smile on. “Now that you mention it, yeah, it is a little crowded.”

Rina narrowed her eyes, clearly not wanting to hear from her, and looked to me. “What do you think, Knox?”

I swallowed. Honestly, I thought it was a lot more like stifling in here suddenly. Man, how had I gotten myself into this mess?

Better question, how was I supposed to get myself out of it?

It felt like we were in one of those chick movies where two girls competed for the guy. I could just see our movie poster: Rina on one side and Bianca on the other. Who Will Win His Affection? scrawled across the top.

Two sets of eyes on me, I chuckled nervously and backed up, pulling on the back of my neck. “I think Joann and Alicia from my team are around here somewhere and I should catch up with them.”

Don’t even start, I already knew what you were thinking because I was thinking the same thing—I was a chicken.

But it was better than the alternative, because, truth be told, I had no idea what I was going to do about these two women.