Chapter 160: Couldn’t afford to wait

A few minutes later, Bree walked to the backstage and found that the wardrobe manager, Sophie, had already see to it that Tom was back into proper clothes.

It was not the outfit he had worn from home, though. It was a tailored suit from the company, fitted closely enough to change the way he carried himself the moment the jacket settled on his shoulders.

Sophie smoothed the front of the jacket, and unnecessarily adjusted the cuffs, then stepped back to inspect him with a professional eye that lingered a second longer than necessary.

"You’re good." she said.

Tom glanced at his reflection in the nearby glass and nodded.

"Thanks."

Not long after, he and Lahey were called outside for pictures on the red carpet.

The shift from backstage to the front of the building was too immediate for Tom but he somehow found himself adjusting just well.

Cameras were already waiting for them. staff moved people into position with urgency. Tom stepped into the light beside Lahey. Questions came from different directions. Flashes broke across his face. Someone called for the two of them to turn slightly, then again for a cleaner shot. Lahey handled it with ease, expected of a man used to sets and cameras unlike Tom.

And Tom, despite new, followed the direction well enough, and by the time they were released from the carpet, he understood that the exhibition had moved him from emergency replacement into someone worth photographing.

Again, he was pleased. That wasn’t a small win.

Afterwards came the dining section.

Tom was guided to a table of high-status guests, seated there courtesy of the company. The men around him were not ordinary attendees. Among them were Saudi sponsors connected to L×L, dressed with quiet expense and speaking in the calm manner of people who weren’t nobodies and they carried themselves just like that.

When Tom was introduced, they received him with open interest.

"So this is the new guy?" one of them said, staring at him.

"Yes, he is." the company representative replied.

The man nearest Tom smiled slightly. "You did not look like a newbie on that runway."

"Well, I guess my trainer did a great job and I in turn tried to do my best." Tom answered with smile.

That seemed to please them more than a lousy reply would have. They kept him in the conversation, asked light questions, and spoke to him exactly with the ease of men who had already decided he was worth remembering.

By the time the dinner side of the evening began rounding up, Tom could feel the difference in how he was being handled. He was no longer being tolerated as a gap-filler. He was being noticed.

The exhibition fully wound down into evening before the building emptied.

Tom was still inside, standing in the lobby with one of the guests from earlier, exchanging a short closing conversation, when Sophie approached from the side.

"James said I should bring you for something quick," she said quietly.

Tom turned, excused himself politely from the man, and followed her.

Sophie led him away from the open lobby traffic and down toward the studio. The deeper they went, the more the noise of the building fell away. When she pushed the studio door open, the space inside was empty and quiet, lit clearly enough to show the open floor and unused equipment. The door settled shut behind them.

Then Sophie turned around and the urgency she had been wearing dropped...

She looked at him for a second, not as wardrobe staff and model, but directly.

"You were so hot on the runway," she said quietly with a twinkling eyes.

Tom stared at her quietly before replying; "Thanks."

Almost immediately, the missing detail dawned on Tom. There was no James. Just Sophie standing in front of him with the kind of look that made the empty studio feel like a bedroom.

He could already guess what she wanted...

"Is this how you want to be repaid for the help you rendered me yesterday?" he asked, straight to the point but gently. He remembered he was the one who told her that she would get whatever she wanted if she helped him.

Sophie stepped closer. "Yes."

Tom looked at her properly now. She was a beautiful woman in a way people probably overlooked when she was busy managing clothes and schedules. Average breasts, full hips, and a big ass that filled her skirt with clear, heavy shape. There was nothing shy in the way she closed the last bit of space between them.

She took his hands, guided them to her backside, and placed them there firmly.

"You can use me to celebrate," she said, and leaned in to place a quick kiss on his lips.

Tom did not hesitate after that. After all she was offering and she was sexy...

He kissed her back and pressed into her ass with both hands, gripping the softness of it hard enough to pull her body against him. Sophie made a low sound into his mouth and pushed closer, already reaching for his belt. Her fingers worked the buckle with clear intent, no teasing delay, no uncertainty about what she had brought him into the empty room for.

Then his phone rang. The sound cut through the heat sharply. It kept ringing.

Tom broke the kiss, breathing harder than before, and pulled the phone from his pocket. Bree’s name showed on the screen. For a second he almost ignored it. Then he answered because he knew Bree wouldn’t call for nothing important.

"James is looking for you," Bree said.

That ended the moment.

Tom caught Sophie’s hands before she could finish with the belt and stepped back just enough to restore distance.

"We’ll fix a better time," he told her.

Sophie looked frustrated, her lips were still parted, breathing uneven. After a second, she nodded. "You’d better mean that."

Tom nodded then adjusted his clothes, brought his breathing under control, and left the studio before the interrupted heat could drag him back in.

He got to James and the man pulled him off to another introduction.

~~~~~~~~~~

By the time he got home, the day had left him tired and satisfied at the same time.

The house was quiet when he entered. He went straight to his room, shut the door, and yanked off the tailored suit piece by piece. Jacket first. Then the shirt. The trousers followed, left in a careless line on the way to the bed. He had stripped down to his boxers and was just going to grab the towel when a knock sounded at the door.

Tom turned his head. "Who is it?"

Sienna’s voice answered from the other side. "It’s me."

He reached for the trousers he had just removed. "Hold on a second."

"Hurry up, please," Sienna said.

There was urgency in her voice. The kind that made it clear she had not come to his door for something casual. As Tom pulled the trousers back on, last night returned to him whether he wanted it or not; her confession, his silence and the way she had walked away after exposing herself.

He fastened the trousers and looked at the door, wondering what she wanted this time, and why she sounded like she could not afford to wait.