The Invitation by Vi Keeland(61)

Hudson looked me up and down. I’d settled on a simple, sleeveless little black dress with nude heels.

“I don’t know what you had on before,” he said. “But I can’t imagine it could be any better than what you’re wearing. You look beautiful.”

I felt that warm feeling in my belly. “Thank you. You look nice yourself. I really do like you with a five o’clock shadow.”

“I’ll be tossing all my razors right after dinner.”

I laughed and stepped aside. “I’ll just be a minute. I need to put on lipstick and change my jewelry.”

Hudson took a seat on the couch in the living room while I went to the bathroom to finish up. “I got shipping notifications for a bunch more products,” I yelled as I lined my lips. “If everything works out, we could be ready to start shipping boxes even earlier than we’d expected.”

“Well, then I guess we’d better get this photography wrapped up tomorrow,” he called from the other room.

After I finished my lipstick, I clipped on a set of turquoise beads to add some color, along with a matching chunky bracelet. I ran my fingers through my hair one last time and took a deep breath, looking in the mirror. As if being around Hudson wasn’t nerve-wracking enough, having dinner with a photographer who was used to shooting famous models and celebrities added another level of pressure. I didn’t want him to look at me and think, Oh shit…how am I going to make that look good enough to sell women perfume?

But it was what it was, and five more minutes of primping wasn’t going to change things. So I headed out to the living room and grabbed my purse from the coffee table. Tossing a few things inside, I snapped it shut. “Were you able to get all your work done this afternoon?”

Hudson stood. “I was. How about you?”

“I got most of it done. But then I couldn’t resist trying out the Jacuzzi.”

“Did you go get a suit?”

I shook my head and smirked. “I went commando.”

Hudson’s eyes swept over me, and he grumbled, “We should go.”

His frustration gave me the boost of confidence I needed at the moment. Hudson was quick to open the door to my suite, which made me giggle. We walked side by side to the hotel’s restaurant.

“Have you ever met Phoenix before?” I asked.

“No. I figured it wouldn’t be too hard to find him. Photographers usually have a certain look to them, and he’ll be alone.”

When we checked in at the restaurant, the hostess said the other member of our party had already arrived and was having a drink at the bar. We went to join him, but there were a few guys sitting alone.

“Which one do you think he is?” I asked.

Hudson looked around and pointed to a guy at the far end of the bar. He had shaggy hair, a bright-colored shirt, and bracelets halfway up his arm—he looked totally trendy.

“Him.” He pointed.

I could only see the two other men from the back, but one had gray hair and wore a tweed sports jacket, and the other guy had shoulders broad enough to be a football player, so I figured Hudson was probably right. But I let him take the lead, anyway.

He walked over and asked, “Phoenix?”

The guy shook his head. “Think you got the wrong guy.”

“Sorry.”

Hudson and I looked across the bar to the other men, both of which we could now see from the front—and…wow, the guy with the linebacker shoulders was absolutely gorgeous. He noticed us looking and smiled.

I lifted my chin. “I think that’s him.”

“He doesn’t look like a photographer,” Hudson said.

“I know. He looks more like a model.”

The guy got up and walked in our direction.

“I’m guessing you’re from Signature Scent?” he said.

“We are.” I smiled. I hadn’t meant to sound so jovial or anxious, but I guess it came out that way, because Hudson gave me a weird look as I extended my hand. “Stella Bardot. Nice to meet you.”

“Ah. My muse.” He lifted my hand and kissed the top of it. “I can see this is going to be an easy job.”

Hudson seemed to be going for an impassive face as he introduced himself and shook hands with the handsome man, but I saw the frown lurking in his eyes.

The three of us requested a table, and I went first, following the hostess to our seats. I noticed more than one woman turning her head to look at the men behind me. I couldn’t blame them. Hudson and Phoenix were very different looking, but each gorgeous in his own right.

Hudson went to pull out my chair, but Phoenix beat him to it.

“Thank you,” I said.

Once we were settled, Phoenix started the conversation.

“So, how long have you been modeling?” he asked me.

“Oh, I’m not a model. I created Signature Scent.”

“Really? Could have fooled me.”

Hudson picked up the drink menu and grumbled. “The information about who you’d be shooting was in the write-up marketing sent you. Guess you missed it.”

I tried to make light of Hudson’s comment. “How long have you been a photographer?”

“Professionally, about five years. I was a model for ten before that, so that’s how I learned the business. Models age out pretty quickly. While I was still booking a lot of jobs, I took some classes so I’d have something to fall back on.”