“I’m going home, Gloria. If you were smart you would, too.”
CHAPTER FIVE
What is this?
Chrissy stood in Pearson’s walk-in closet, cleaning up from his change from day to evening clothes. It was yet another mundane task she found herself doing for him. She’d hung his suit in the section of clothes to send out to the dry cleaners, and now picked a shirt she didn’t recognize up off the floor. It was odd, given that she knew intimately the contents of his closet, and a closer inspection showed her it wasn’t the shirt he’d walked out in earlier that day. In fact, it was an off-the- rack shirt, which entirely shocked her. The man abhorred off-the-rack clothing. Something must have happened to his good shirt, so she made a note to order several replacements of the missing shirt, just in case he ruined another.
“Miss Serafini!” Pearson snapped.
Chrissy tossed the shirt into the trash and hurried out of Pearson’s walk-in closet, to see him struggling with his cufflinks.
“Can you give me a hand with this?” he said, annoyance in his voice. He held out his arm.
She drew his arm closer to her, and he winced. “Did you hurt yourself, Mr. Pearson?”
“It’s nothing. A damn tourist fell onto me on the street and pushed me into the car. I’m fine.”
Chrissy set one then the other cufflink in place, wondering how Pearson allowed a tourist to get close enough to fall on him. “Do you need to see a doctor? I have a concierge physician I can call.”
Instead of showing appreciation for the suggestion, he glared at her. “Why aren’t you dressed?” he snapped, eyeing her in her bathrobe. “I told you to be ready.”
Chrissy had plenty of opportunity in this past month to practice what she called her “game face.” Inside she seethed with annoyance, but her face didn’t show it. It struck her as ironic that she’d learned this skill from watching her mother doing the same when the Serafini men “acted up,” as her mother had called it.
“I’ve done my hair and makeup,” she said in a pleasant voice. “All I need to do is slip on the dress. I was in the middle of that when you called me to care for your clothes.”
“Excuses,” he muttered. “I take it your assistant is ready, then?”
“Pardon?” This wasn’t part of today’s plan.
“I expect that if your assistant is taking over for you, she’d attend with us to understand her part in these functions.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake.
“I’ll check on her,” Chrissy said.
“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath as she stalked from his bedroom. She knocked on the guest bedroom door.
Jessica’s voice drifted out the door. “Come in.”
Chrissy swept in, full of purpose. She spotted Jessica walking out of her ensuite, wrapped in a towel fresh from her shower.
“Change of plans,” Chrissy started. “You’re coming with us tonight.”
“What? I don’t have anything to wear for that.”
“We’ll get something from my closet. Let’s go.”
“Damn, girl. Can’t a woman recover from jet lag?”
“Sorry. No. And it’s just for a couple weeks. Let’s go.” There wasn’t any time to waste, not when Pearson was already on an angry streak.
The moment a grumbling Jessica reached Chrissy’s closet, her eyes widened. “Damn,” she muttered. “This is bigger than my bedroom.”
“Let’s see what’s in here,” Chrissy said, snapping through the gowns. “It’s a good thing you’re close to my size.” She pulled out the blue off-the-shoulder gown she had bought for herself for the night.
“Here, try this.”
Jessica held the gown to her frame. “This isn’t going to work. It’s too short on me.” She handed the dress back to Chrissy.