“I didn’t know what to do, so I thought I would tell you first.”
“You made the right decision, Nicole.” I could barely keep my voice steady because I was so angry. “Show him to my office. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“And should I tell Sapphire?”
I didn’t want her to know anything until I knew what he wanted first. “No.”
* * *
I left Muse in my studio and walked to my office on the other side of the building. Andrew was waiting for me, and I purposely made him wait an extra twenty minutes just to be an asshole.
Muse was mine. Not only was she my model, but she was my woman. She was the one sleeping in my bed every night, and I was the man who slept beside her. She was my property—end of story.
If Andrew thought he could have her, he was mistaken.
I stepped inside the office and saw the back of Andrew’s head. His broad shoulders extended past the sides of the chair, and he continued to stare straight ahead at the windows that overlooked the city. The glass was so clean he could see his reflection—and mine.
I slowly walked past him to my desk, not stopping to greet him with a handshake.
Why should I?
I sat behind my desk and brought my hands together on the wood. I hardly used this office since my studio was my creative space. This room was for calculations and bookkeeping. Nicole did her work in here sometimes, leaving her documents out so I could see them when I had time.
I stared at him coldly, looking at a man ten years older than I was. He was in his early forties, and even though I wasn’t even thirty yet, I had more success than he did. My name was much more respected. My lingerie was considered a luxury. Mistresses of powerful men wore my stuff. Only nobodies wore his shit. “How can I help you, Andrew?”
He retained his composure as well as I did. “I’m sure Nicole told you I’m looking for Sapphire.”
“She mentioned it.”
“And since I’m meeting with you, I guess I won’t be speaking to her.”
Fuck no. “You’re bright.”
The corner of his mouth rose in a smile. “She’s one of the most difficult people to track down. I can only assume she has a fascinating story.”
A story he would never know. “What do you want, Andrew?”
“We both know Sapphire stole the hearts of men and women everywhere at that show a few months ago. But I haven’t seen her since—and neither has anyone else. Does that mean she’s decided to retire?”
No. She just has a new job—fucking me. “She still works for me.”
“Then why aren’t you using your greatest weapon?”
“Trust me, I use her.” I leaned forward over the desk, staring him down harder.
“Maybe she’d like to be used in other ways. I’m going to make her an offer to come work for me.”
Like that would ever happen. “She’s not available.”
“Even if she’s under contract, I can break the chains of her legal imprisonment.”
Any problem could be fixed with enough money. Considering I was his biggest competitor, he needed to have leverage over me. By taking the most gorgeous model that ever stepped foot on the runway, he would definitely have serious power. I couldn’t let that happen—and not just because of my business.
But because Muse was mine. “She’s not going anywhere, Andrew.”
“That’s for her to decide.”
No, it’s not. “She’s not available. I won’t repeat myself a second time.”
His eyes narrowed. “You think you can stop me from speaking to her? I know she lives here. It’s only a matter of time before I corner her. And the fact that you’re sabotaging a potential deal for this woman is sickening.”
I owned her. It wasn’t sickening at all. “She’s mine, Andrew. Let it go.”
“And what do you think your little star will say when I tell her that you refused to let me talk with her?”
I wasn’t letting this man anywhere near her. She was stuck to me like glue every minute of the day. He couldn’t get to her without going through me first. And no man could get through me. “I wouldn’t waste your time, Andrew. I’m sure you have more important things to do.”
9
Sapphire
Conway had been in a ticked mood ever since he’d stepped away from the studio. He returned with a clenched jaw and a furrowed brow, and he was short with me anytime I tried to talk to him. He was so angry that I stopped trying.
On the ride home, he was exactly the same. He gripped the steering wheel with one hand and kept his eyes on the road. He didn’t make conversation with me, and it was obvious he was thinking about whatever had pissed him off.
“You know what I do when I’m mad?”