The Call Boy I Met in Paris – Episode 14
Joey stared at Justin, certain he had misunderstood. Concealing a price was one thing; concealing the identity of one of the city’s most recognizable billionaires from his own wife was another.
“These two racks were customized for you, Mr. Lake,” Joey whispered. The suits had been commissioned months ago from fabrics selected specifically for Justin.
“Grab a few options, and I can pretend to put them on,” Justin replied. His calm suggested that deceiving Sophie inside a room filled with evidence was a manageable inconvenience.
Joey glanced toward the curtain. “Does she think you’re broke?” he asked. Justin considered the stack of cash in the hotel room and the ten-thousand-dollar salary.
“She thinks I’m hardworking,” he said. “And I would appreciate your discretion.” The request carried the unmistakable authority of Lake Enterprises’ CEO.
Joey selected three suits in different colors. Each had already been fitted to Justin’s measurements, but he made a show of pinning a sleeve and checking a shoulder before sending him out.
Sophie looked up when Justin emerged in the first suit. The dark fabric sharpened the breadth of his shoulders and transformed the man she had mistaken for an exhausted worker into someone who could command a boardroom.
“Hmm,” she murmured, circling him. “It’s not bad.” The understatement was necessary because admitting the truth would mean acknowledging how difficult it was to look away.
Justin caught her gaze in the mirror. “Only not bad?” he teased. The suit felt as familiar as his own skin because it had been made for him.
“Try the next one,” Sophie ordered, retreating to the sofa before he could see her blush. She told herself that any handsome man would look impressive in expert tailoring.
The second suit fit just as perfectly. So did the third. There was no bunching at the waist, no extra length at the cuff, and no sign that either piece had been selected only minutes earlier.
Sophie rose and examined the seams. “Okay, what kind of witchcraft is this?” she demanded. “Every suit fits you like a glove.”
“Trade secrets,” Joey and Justin answered at the same time. Their voices overlapped so precisely that Sophie’s eyes narrowed.
Joey laughed too loudly. “Professional instinct,” he added. Justin adjusted his cuff to hide his amusement.
Sophie stepped closer to straighten Justin’s collar. Her fingers brushed the warm skin at his throat, and the playful mood shifted. Justin became very still beneath her touch.
She noticed the way his eyes dropped toward her mouth. Memory returned in a rush: his hands, the hotel bed, and the night she had tried to classify as a transaction.
Sophie pulled back too quickly and caught her heel against the fitting platform. Justin reached for her waist before she could fall, drawing her against him.
For a breathless second, neither moved. Joey turned away with sudden devotion to a rack of ties, granting them the privacy neither had requested.
“Sorry,” Sophie whispered. Justin’s arm remained around her a moment longer. “That’s okay,” he said, his voice low enough to make the words feel like a promise.
Sophie stepped free and faced Joey before her composure failed completely. “We’ll take all three suits.” Joey nodded, but as he moved toward the register, a new problem emerged: how could he charge Sophie for clothes Justin had already purchased?
