Page 27 of In the Frame

“Matty. I’m sorry to call so late, but I wanted to get back to you.”

I gulp. Whatever he’s going to say, here it comes. Bracing myself, I close my eyes. And what he says next is definitely not what I expect.

“I owe you an explanation.”

I suck back a breath. It takes a moment for his words to register.

“You do?”

“I… I seem to have misplaced your suit. Or rather, the dry cleaners have. I called them again today between meetings.” He sounds… embarrassed? This can’t be Florian.

“You—lost my suit?” My voice climbs with surprise. What?

“The dry cleaners can’t seem to find it, but they’re searching. They’ve been searching the last three days. I wanted to call you with the news. I realize now I should have just let you know right away what happened. My mistake.”

My brain’s racing along with my heart, trying to make sense of what he’s telling me. Confession time. “I called Richard today, but he didn’t know anything about it.”

“He wouldn’t.” There’s an awkward pause. “Because I didn’t tell him about it. I took your suit in myself.”

“You did what?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Florian must have been body snatched because there’s no way this makes any sense. For a moment, I gawp. “I’m sure you have way more important things to be doing.”

“This was important too.”

I swallow hard, also not expecting that.

“I would go down to the dry cleaner myself and insist they search again, but I’m in New York, as I’ve been the last two days and through to Sunday night.”

“Oh.” It’s all I can manage. I sigh. I’m headed to the rental shops in the morning. “It’s not your fault… You tried.”

“It’s not good enough.” His voice is tight. “I realize you need the suit this weekend. There’s no time to have a suit made for you, but I insist on replacing it, even if it is ready-to-wear. Find what you can tomorrow, and I’ll have Richard cover the cost. Just ring him when you’ve found something, and he’ll take payment as per my instructions.”

“You… you don’t need to do that.” I say it only halfheartedly, because I’m trying to be polite, but I’m also obviously in need of help here.

“I need to, and I want to.” His voice is unexpectedly soft then. “I’m sorry for letting you down and not letting you know sooner.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you. Don’t worry about it.”

“I do worry about it.”

“Okay, well… thanks.” I swallow hard. It’s impossible to make sense of his generosity. “That’s really kind of you. Even if you’re worried. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I can do. I must leave now, as I have a dinner meeting next. Good luck with finding a suit tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

“Goodbye.” He hangs up.

I flop back on the pillows and toss my phone onto the duvet with a crinkle. I’m way too awake to sleep now. And flustered, because Florian was thinking about me. And he felt bad about losing my suit? Which is reasonable, I suppose, but still.

It’s about then that I realize something. Two somethings. First, my heart’s still going a mile a minute—and second, I’m getting hard.

Who the hell gets hard over a lost suit? But it’s not the suit that’s done it, of course.

In the shadows of the room, with the soft glow of the streetlights beyond the window, I let myself acknowledge that I’m attracted to Florian. Despite it being totally pointless or real or anything like that. Just wistful thoughts that have appeared like the promise of a summer’s breeze on a sultry day.

My eyes slide shut as I drift into daydreaming about him, imagining Florian with his glossy, dark hair and pale skin, luminous green eyes, and stubbled jawline. He has lips that are gloriously red, insistently red, and totally kissable. What I’d give to taste them. Have him taste me back.

And what I’d give to have him surrender. To press him beneath me.