Plus One

Chapter Five

Sophie felt like a princess.

Laura had put her into a Ralph Lauren gown made of navy blue lace. It was an elegant piece with deceptively modest lace covering her arms and a back that plunged dangerously low.

When Ian came to pick her up, he stared at her, speechless.

"Ready to go, boss?" she said, biting back a smile. She could get used to him looking at her like that.

He shook his head as though to clear it. "Yes, ready."

He held out his hand and she took it as he helped her into the back of the limo.

"Champagne?" he asked and she nodded. She needed something to kill the nerves.

"To things being complicated," he said, holding up his glass.

She raised her glass and took a sip. The champagne melted on her mouth, delicious bubbles flowing over her tongue.

"So why are you single?" he asked.

"Is this appropriate work conversation?" she asked.

He nodded. "Absolutely. It's imperative that I know your flaws so that I'm not surprised by them," he said in a teasing voice.

"Flaws," she grumbled. "I'm single because my former boyfriend decided to be embedded indefinitely with troops in Afghanistan. It's tough to do the long distance thing, especially when one end is a war zone."

"He's a photographer?"

She nodded. "We met in grad school. Both of us were studying photography at NYU."

"You miss him?"

She shook her head. "I did at first. But then I realized he and I had never really been right for each other."

"Why?"

Because she didn't love him. Because she didn't know what being in love felt like.

"He was too...agreeable."

"You mean you wanted to fight more?" he asked, incredulous.

She laughed. "I know it sounds crazy, but it was...boring. I guess he was so married to the work that when he came home he was just a shell of himself. I don't know. Anyway, I didn't cry much over it."

"His loss."

"Damn right." She smiled. "What about you? I'm sure one or two women have gotten under your skin."

"Not in a good way," he said dryly. "When I was younger there was someone. She wanted to be more serious than I did, though. She's married now with two kids."

"That must feel kind of strange."

He shrugged. "A little."

When they arrived, Ian exited the limo, then held out his hand to assist Sophie. It would take her time, she thought, to perfect the art of exiting a limo in a long, tight gown and three-inch heels.

Her hand still in his, her eyes traveled to the mansion. It was an imposing structure, with Greek columns and a large circular drive. They walked up the flagstone path and through the front door. Everything seemed to be marble or gilt. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling and priceless works of art grazed the walls. Ian drew her into the spacious living room, which had an opulent ceiling, painted in a style similar to the Sistine Chapel. To Sophie, the home was garish and ostentatious. Instead of being awed, she was underwhelmed. This eased some of her nerves—who would have thought someone this rich could be so tacky?