Next day Golden dressed carefully, putting on her best suit, the one she saved for job interviews. It was navy blue with a knee-length skirt and a jacket that sat just atop her hips. She made sure to put on stockings before sliding her feet into black leather pumps.
The clothes taken care of, Golden turned to look at herself in the mirror. Now what was she to do about make-up? The truth was she owned very little, just lip gloss and rose-pink lipstick. She didn’t even have foundation. She bit her lip, pondering if she should slip into her mother’s room and borrow some of hers.
Then she shook her head. Why was she trying to impress this man, anyway? It wasn’t like he was considering her for a job. Once he’d given her a piece of his mind he’d probably throw her out of there so fast it would make her head spin. No, she would go as she’d always gone – devoid of embellishment except for her lips. It made no sense to try to be who she was not.
That afternoon, Golden drove to the office of Davidoff Fashions in Canary Wharf. She was early but she didn’t mind. She needed the few extra minutes to gather her wits about her. She had no idea what this Davidoff person was like but the fact that he’d decided not to let her blunder slide but had summoned her to his office meant that he must be a real beast.
She could just picture him. An old goat sporting bushy eyebrows just like her stepfather, with beady eyes and a snarl he used to bully all his employees. Well, she wasn’t going to let him bully her. Just let him try it.
Golden waited until exactly two fifty-five and then she got out of her car and headed for the impressive building that housed Davidoff Fashions. Bank Street was home to the head offices of several big businesses so even though she knew next to nothing about the fashion industry or Davidoff Fashions she could tell they were major. There was no way you could be small fry and maintain offices at this location.
Feeling a little overwhelmed she pushed the door open and entered, the beat of her heart increasing pace with her every step. Walking up to the reception desk she clutched her handbag in front of her and cleared her throat. To her surprise the woman seated there greeted her with a friendly smile. “Yes? May I help you?”
“I’m Golden Browne,” she said quietly. “I’m here to see Mr. Davidoff.”
The woman nodded. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes. For three o’clock.”
The woman gave her another smile. “Right on time.” She pressed a button on her desk. “Ms. Browne’s here for her appointment with Mr. Davidoff.”
A voice crackled in the speaker. “Send her right up, please.”
She directed Golden to the elevators and then she was on her own. “Well, here goes nothing,” she whispered and stepped inside then closed the doors behind her.
When she got to the top floor of the building she stepped into an office suite that must have been designed by Juan Montoya himself. The style was open and comfortable but so sophisticated. The colors and textures reminded her nature. She didn’t get the chance to fully admire it, though. A woman, tall and very fashionably dressed, was approaching.
“Welcome, Miss Browne,” she said and reached out to shake Golden’s hand. “I’m Sharon Crow. Mr. Davidoff is waiting for you. Please follow me.”
“Thank you.” It was a soft croak but that was all Golden could manage just then. She just wanted to get in there and get it over with. She followed Ms. Crow toward heavy-looking double doors where the woman tapped lightly then pulled them open. “Miss Browne to see you,” she announced then stepped in and stood to one side, beckoning for Golden to enter.
Tentatively she walked in expecting to see the monster behind his desk, a terrifying scowl on his whiskered face. Instead, Golden found herself face to face with a startlingly handsome man with dark brown hair and striking blue eyes. And, to her astonishment, he was smiling at her.
“Miss Browne,” he said, coming forward to greet her. “Thank you for coming.”
“Th...thank you.” Thrown totally off course, Golden could only stare. Where was the brute who’d called her here so he could reprimand her for her stupid fumble? Was this man even Reed Davidoff? He didn’t look much older than she was.
Maybe this man was another assistant to the owner? Golden gave a furtive glance around but no, now that Ms. Crow was gone they were alone.
“M...Mr. Davidoff?” she asked just as he reached out a hand to her.
“At your service,” he said with a gallant bow. “Please. Have a seat.”
Golden raised her eyebrows. She couldn’t help it. She’d never been good at hiding her feelings. Reed Davidoff was no beast. Just the opposite. He was acting like a prince.
Giving him a tiny smile and a nod of thanks she walked over to the chair he was offering and sank down.
He followed her but instead of going to sit in his own chair on the opposite side of the desk he remained standing, hands shoved into the pockets of his smart black trousers, and he was staring at her.
Golden glanced up then away. Why was he looking at her like that, like she was some long-awaited toy he was itching to play with? It made no sense. Wasn’t he supposed to be hating her right now?
Then suddenly he blinked, seeming to catch himself. “I’m sorry,” he said with a rueful smile. “Where are my manners? You must be wondering why I called you here.”
Golden wasn’t going to deny it. The suspense was killing her. She nodded. “I am.”
“I have something I’d like to show you.” This time his smile was enigmatic. He turned away and headed for his desk.
And with every step Golden’s eyes were on him. What in the world could he have to show her? Outside of the fact that she’d worked at his runway show he didn’t know her from Adam.
But apart from being curious Golden was staring at Reed Davidoff for other reasons. Rather selfish reasons if she should admit it. His tailored suit fit his body to perfection and when he turned she had the ideal opportunity to observe him freely. Even a novice to fashion like her could tell that what he was wearing was worth more than she would ever hope to earn from months of work.