Beautiful Secret
Page 17

 Christina Lauren

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My eyes going wide as saucers, I whipped my head back his way. “You . . . what?”
With a confused draw of his brow, he said very slowly, “I’m going to head on down; would you like to come?”
“Oh,” I said, struggling to take a breath in, and let it out again. “You’re going to dinner downstairs?”
“You said this is your first time?” he started, and both our eyes widened before he added in a breathless rush, “In New York. Your first time in New York.”
“Um, yeah,” I answered, and closed my robe more tightly near my neck.
“Maybe you . . .” Niall started to say, but paused, reaching up as if to straighten a tie that wasn’t there. He dropped his hands again. “I’m meeting my brother. He and his wife live in the city, and I’m having dinner with him and a few business associates downstairs. Maybe you could join us.”
His brother lived here? I tucked this bit of information away, along with how badly I wanted to go—certain I was going to hate myself for this later—and shook my head. There was no way I was going to intrude.
“I think I’ll probably just—”
“You’d be doing me a favor if you joined me, actually,” he cut in. “My brother Max is a bit of a handful.” Niall paused again as if he’d reconsidered, before giving a small shake of his head and continuing, “You’d be a welcome distraction.”
Because I’m Captain of Team Clueless and intent on painting each interaction between us with either nudity or a shade of awkward, I stood there, speechless, blinking for far longer than was socially appropriate.
“Of course, if you’d rather not—”
“No, no! Sorry, I . . . can you give me ten minutes to change and—” I motioned vaguely to the disaster atop my head.
“Ten minutes is all you need?” he asked skeptically.
God, he’s teasing me again.
“Ten minutes,” I confirmed with a smirk. “Twelve if you don’t want my skirt in my underwear.”
Niall barked out a laugh that seemed to surprise us both before regaining his composure. “All right then. I’ll wait in the lobby. See you in ten.”
No person in the history of forever has ever changed as quickly as I did.
The moment the elevator doors closed behind him, I was off. My robe gone, I yanked a blue jersey dress from my suitcase and sprinted to the bathroom. I ran a washcloth over my face and raced to find my toiletries. I moisturized, concealed, and powdered at the speed of light. A dab of product in my hair and I turned on the blow dryer, smoothing out the bedhead one section at a time. My flatiron heated up in seconds and after just a few passes I unplugged it, setting it aside. Teeth brushed, blush applied, mascara swiped, lip gloss smoothed, I threw on my dress with five minutes left to spare. Unfortunately I’d forgotten to put on underwear, so I used the remaining time to pull a pair from my suitcase, find a portable charger for my phone, and slip into a pair of sensible heels.
I reached for my bag, double-checked that the various parts of my dress were all where they belonged, and with a deep breath and a tiny prayer, walked to the elevator.
FOUR
Niall
I stood, staring at where she’d emerged from the lift, and fell utterly speechless. She’d changed in under ten minutes, but looked . . . stunning. In an instant, I was both thrilled to be near her and resentful that this complicated wrinkle—the presence of Ruby—invaded what could otherwise be a dry, rote, and easy business summit.
Swallowing, I motioned behind me to the entrance of Knave. “Shall we get a bite?”
“Yes, please,” she said, and her enormous smile, her long silhouette slightly vibrating with excitement, pulled every remaining thought from my mind. “I could eat an entire cow right now. I hope they have a steak the size of your chest in there.”
I felt my eyebrow lift in amusement.
She laughed as she dug through her clutch for something, mumbling to herself, “I swear I’m normally more intelligent than this.”
I wanted to protest that Ruby was ebullient and refreshing. But I held my tongue; this time, her observation hadn’t really seemed to bother her.
“My brother will be there,” I reminded her. “And his friends. I hope this is okay. They’re good people, just . . .”
“Guys?” she finished for me.
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” I said with a smile.
“Oh, I can handle guys,” she said, falling into step with me. I noted, perhaps not for the first time, that she had the ability to say things that might sound peckish had they come from my lips but sounded playful and lighthearted coming from hers.