The Drakes of California

“Booking her is a matter for Mira to handle, not me. I want London’s agent contacted the moment Mira arrives.”

Mira Jacobs was the company’s tough-as-nails attorney who handled OTB’s legal matters and also oversaw the company’s brand.

Tyler pulled out his phone. “I’ll text her now, find out when she’s planning to come in.”

While Tyler texted Mira, Ace took a photo of what he’d sketched and sent it to Lucien along with the message, Let’s talk.

Tyler placed his phone on the desk. “Now let’s discuss what’s really important.”

“I can’t think of anything more important right now than fashion week, but...go ahead?”

“Did you hit it?”

Ace’s look? Deadpan.

“Don’t give me that look as if I asked something crazy. She’s a beautiful woman. There’s no way I’d have passed up the chance for some of that!” A beat and then Tyler finished, “If I weren’t as gay as the earth is round.”

“Can’t say I didn’t think about it. What red-blooded man wouldn’t? But right through here I’m all about business. Getting this line ready should be the only thing on our minds.”

The day passed quickly. Shortly after Tyler left Ace’s office, Lucien arrived, excited about and impressed with the design Ace had texted him. Ace spoke with Mira about London and then called a meeting with the designers to implement his latest ideas. More changes were made to the fall menswear line that they would be showing this spring, and the direction of the OTB Her line was clarified and expanded. After a phone powwow with finance, the PR and marketing budgets were increased. The partners decided not to reveal the news about London until it was a done deal, but in regard to the design team, he’d let it be known that a famous face would be among the models wearing the clothing.

Speculation ran rampant. Ace didn’t mind. Nothing like a bit of healthy competition among the models to bring out everyone’s A game. Throughout the day, his cell phone was nearby. Now that everyone was on board with London as the fashion show’s star model, he wanted to get the contract signed and make it official. Five o’clock came and went, and then six. He contacted Mira. There was still no word. He turned off his office lights and left the building just before seven without an answer. As he entered his driveway around seven thirty, his phone rang. The number showed up unknown, a common occurrence on his company phone. He pressed the answer button on the steering wheel, and heard a familiar voice.

“So... Ace Montgomery... I hear you want my body after all.”

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