Sherelle Green

Her Unexpected Valentine


Скачать книгу

didn’t apply enough pressure to break off his thumb,” Nicole said. “He was just being a wimp. I mean, who calls himself Romeo anyway?”

      “Oh, my goodness,” Aaliyah said. “Hollywood isn’t ready for you.”

      Nicole smiled as she ordered another drink. “I hope I’m ready for Hollywood.”

      “You are,” Aaliyah said as she placed a hand on Nicole’s shoulder. “This is an amazing opportunity for you, and although I’ll miss you at Bare Sophistication back in Miami, I’m glad I can visit to help with the pop-up shop in LA.”

      “Thanks, Aaliyah.” Nicole took a sip of her delicious cocktail as she thought about everything that was in store for her over the next couple months. She loved being the lead makeup artist and hairstylist for Miami’s Bare Sophistication Boutique and Boudoir Studio in addition to all her freelance work, but now it was finally time to spread her wings.

      After making a connection with a television producer who was attending a beauty trade show where she was a vendor, Nicole was given the opportunity to temporarily uproot her life to Hollywood to be the lead makeup artist and hairstylist for a series of Valentine’s Day themed commercial ads being filmed. The commercials would all tie together as advertisements for a Valentine’s Day documentary about love and relationships. Since the previous makeup artist and hairstylist suddenly quit, Nicole had a lot to prove.

      The hardest part about coming to LA was leaving behind her friends and business partners, Summer Dupree-Chase and Danni Allison, owners of Bare Sophistication Miami. Fortunately, the women were very understanding of the opportunity and even better, the ladies decided that Bare Sophistication would have a pop-up shop in LA with an opportunity to do a local commercial for the boutique. Kyra Reed, current assistant manager for the Bare Sophistication Chicago location, would be in LA as well to manage the shop. Nicole would assist with the pop-up when she wasn’t filming, while Aaliyah—the Bare Sophistication Miami boudoir photographer—would travel back and forth between Miami and LA to help with the boudoir portion of the business.

      Nicole and Aaliyah had arrived in LA hours prior to scope out the location of the pop-up shop and get Nicole settled in her temporary apartment. Her first day on the job didn’t officially start for another couple days, and although she’d never say the words out loud, she was nervous about her first major position on a television set.

      Aaliyah hopped off her stool. “I’m going to head to the bathroom. Can you order me another mango margarita when the bartender returns?”

      Nicole nodded in agreement before returning to her drink. Just shake off the nerves, LeBlanc. You’ve got this. She had no doubt that she’d spend the entire weekend chanting those words to herself.

      She ordered Aaliyah’s drink and began planning her next few days in her mind. Her thoughts were momentarily interrupted when a man approached and sat in Aaliyah’s recently vacated stool.

      “Magnificent,” she heard him say when he was seated.

      Not again, she thought. Aaliyah hadn’t even been gone two minutes before another guy decided to hit on her.

      “I’m not interested,” she said, turning to face him. The man in the sleek navy blue suit looked up from his phone.

      “What are you talking about?”

      Nicole raised an eyebrow. “I heard you call me magnificent, and although I appreciate the compliment, I’m not interested.”

      Instead of acknowledging what she just said, he simply stared at her. Hmm, he is kind of cute. She wasn’t really attracted to the business-suit-and-tie-wearing, clean-cut all-American, but she had to admit that his good looks caught her attention.

      “You must be confused,” he said. “I was referring to this.” He turned his phone to show her an image.

      Nicole squinted. “You were referring to a wine bottle?”

      “Yes, I was.”

      Talk about embarrassing. “I’m sorry, I think I misunderstood you.”

      “There’s no thinking needed on this,” he said in a monotone voice. “You assumed I was flirting with you and I wasn’t. So, you shouldn’t have said that you think you misunderstood me. You know you misunderstood me.”

      It took all her effort not to let her mouth drop open.

      “And it’s not just any bottle,” he said. “It’s a rare 1935 merlot that one can only hope to get their hands on.”

      “Sounds like one of a kind.”

      The man gave her a blank stare. “It is.” He briefly looked her up and down, and Nicole struggled not to fidget under his stare. “Although I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand,” he finally said.

      Tonight she’d chosen to wear a pair of high-waisted jeans and a light peach blouse. Her curly dark brown hair was pulled on the top of her head in a high bun, and her jewelry matched her blouse. She knew she looked good, but she also knew that she didn’t seem to fit the type of woman Buttoned-up Suit was interested in.

      Is this jerk for real? “Excuse me? Where do you get off making assumptions about me?”

      “You’re one to talk,” he said. “Considering you assumed I was flirting with you when I sat down, although I gave you no indication that I was interested.”

      Nicole was about to give him a piece of her mind when the man stood abruptly after receiving his drink and walked away.

      If she’d been back home in Miami, she probably would have told him off even if that meant yelling across the bar. Given that she was new to LA, she felt it best to compose herself.

      Maybe I should wait near the bathroom for Aaliyah before I get myself into more trouble. Grabbing her cocktail and the margarita she’d ordered for her friend, she stood and turned to leave only to bump into a solid six-foot-three-inch wall.

      “Oh, crap,” she said as her feet, encased in peach three-inch pumps, slipped from under her and her drinks went in the air. As she tumbled to the hard-tiled floor of the bar and stumbled to catch her balance, Nicole briefly noticed that the solid six-foot-three-inch wall had a good-looking face and arms to match a deep, throaty voice that was currently warning her to watch her step.

      “Shit,” he said as part of the liquid in one of the glasses spilled on his white dress shirt. Unfortunately for her, the rest spilled all over her peach blouse.

      “Watch out,” he said when the second glass dropped from her hand and clacked on the floor. As the music blasted in the background, Nicole thought about those scenes in movies where a damsel in distress stumbled and tried to catch her balance only to be encased by a pair of powerful arms that caught her and pulled her to safety.

      When the tall mouthwatering stranger reached out his arms, only to completely miss her outstretched hands, causing her to land even harder on her backside, she realized just how false those movie scenes were.

      “Are you okay?” he asked, trying to help her up.

      No, sexy guy, I’m not okay. “I’m fine,” she said, waving away his hands. She knew she should probably accept his help, but a part of her was too over the events of the night to accept any help. I must have done something wrong within the past week because karma is not on my side.

      “Oh, God, are you okay?”

      She turned to the sound Aaliyah’s voice.

      “I’m fine, just help me up.” She reached for Aaliyah, ignoring the smirk on the man standing next to her. She hadn’t even gotten a good look at him, but based off what she’d seen on her journey to landing on her butt, he was delicious. Judging by the wide-eyed look Aaliyah was giving him, Nicole assumed she’d noticed how attractive he was too.

      “I thought you didn’t need help,” the deep, throaty voice said.

      “I meant I didn’t