Aim to Please (wlw)

ch. 11 • fashion never sleeps

As the air grows colder and the threat of the holidays looms over us, another stomach-twisting event required our attention:

New York Fashion Week.

In lieu of the September week, we were deep in the midst of European travel. Thus the winter function, showcasing the next fall and winter season fashion, was our next major event.

An email in the late hours of the night called the floor to the board room first thing. Hoping to ease the sting of our creatives attending an 8 AM meeting on a Monday, I made a massive breakfast order. Bagels, pastries, fruit, iced coffee, hot coffee, and hot water for tea-

"Oh, mon Dieu," Laurie's voice startled me. "They will love this. It makes me nauseous."

I crinkled my nose and rolled my eyes. "Yes, yes. I know. You don't have breakfast this early. That's why I got you coffee."

"My hero," she murmured, coming up behind me and resting her chin on my shoulder.

Her arms captured me in a lazy embrace. I sank into them, heart singing. Laurie felt safe.

For the past few weeks since our explosive union, she continued to be affectionate behind closed doors. She showered me with words of praise and affirmation. When no one was around, she would often be attached to me by the hip.

Confusing. But so, so addicting.

"Laurie," I warned lowly, pressing against her. "Everyone is going to be here soon."

"You act as though I am going to take you right here," she muttered in response. I felt a smile grow on her face. "That is- I will if you decide to let go of your little arrangement..."

I bit my lip to suppress a sound of frustration. Laurie's hands moved to my bare stomach underneath my shirt- soft and manipulating against my pliable skin and psyche. A shuddered breath jerked out of my lungs.

Her lips brushed against the nape of my neck, gentle breezes of touch that burned me. Her honeyed nectar perfume emitted from her pulse points and drove me crazy. I turned around abruptly and tangled my fingers into her long, luscious black hair, enjoying the spark that flashed in her eyes-

Ding.

In a split second decision, I brought Laurie's face down to mine and kissed her roughly. An opportunity arose as she gasped, and I slipped my tongue between her parted lips and caressed hers. Her moan, quiet but throaty, made me smirk.

Our coworkers' voices filled the hallway. I sidestepped away and smoothed out my shirt, heat flushing up my neck to my cheeks. Laurie looked stunned, frozen in place.

I busied myself with the breakfast spread, fidgeting with the placement of things to appear busy. The normally rambunctious crew filed into the board room, quiet and zombie-like. Mumbled morning greetings spewed between yawns and groans.

"Look lively," I called out over my shoulder. "There's food and caffeine."

"You are sent by God herself." Jayce threw his arms around me and pretended to faint, ever melodramatic.

Everyone meandered around, pecking random goodies from the breakfast table. I stood next to Laurie, her ever vigilant and dutiful assistant, skimming through my notes about today's topics and events. A lot of the week would develop based on decisions made at this very meeting- fashion never sleeps, but it is also hardly ever organized and precise.

Slightly more animated, the designers called across the table at each other. The occasional paper straw wrapping flew through the air. Laurie took her place at the front of the long, sleek faux-wood board table. Conversations trickled down to silence.