A/N: Hi! So since chapter five is something some of you have already read, I went ahead and posted chapter six, as well. Hope you enjoy! 

Note: There is a new character in this book as of a couple weeks ago. Her name is Trish, and she's a loud and inappropriate maid who just so happens to be Adriana's real best friend, and you will be totally confused if you don't know who she is. She's been in almost every chapter so far, so you might have to go back and read to catch up. 

If you're a new reader and are caught up, carry on. :D 

***

Idiot For Hire

Chapter 6: You Hired a Man?

“Is he here yet?”

I sighed impatiently, setting my fashion magazine down. “No, Trish. For the thousandth time, he isn’t here yet.”

Trish held up her hands defensively. “Hey, I was just asking! So when do you think he’ll be here? Soon?”

“Around nine,” I said for the umpteenth time. She was starting to drive me nuts. I was starting to regret the emphasis I’d put on Nathan’s good looks. Trish was even more excited than I was now. “I told him to be here at nine, but he’s not good with time.” That was an understatement.

“Sounds like you know him pretty well.” Trish sat down and playfully nudged me with her elbow. “You, uh, you got something to tell me, Adri?”

I looked over at her slowly. “Nope. Why would I?”

“Oh, no reason,” she said, swinging her legs up and down. “You just seem to be pretty fond of this new guy, and your boyfriend just so happens to be a total dick-face. But it’s nothing.”

I couldn’t even vouch for Mitch because I knew Trish was right. Mitch was a tool. Still, the thought of Nathan and me being romantically linked was overwhelming, and I quickly shook my head. I didn’t even want to consider it. “This is purely professional,” I said. “You know I’m stuck with Mitch for God knows how long.”

“There’s an easy fix for this, you know.” 

“And what’s that?”

“Hire a hit man.”

I smacked Trish on the arm, grinning over at her. “Shut up.”

“I’m just s—ooh! I’ll get it!” The doorbell rang in the middle of Trish’s sentence, successfully distracting her from her vicious thoughts. She sprang up and sprinted out the door, obviously assuming it was Nathan.  

I was going to wait for her to bring him up to my room, but the thought of what she might say to him began to worry me. What if she made some sort of inappropriate comment, or made it seem like I had a crush on him? Trish had the habit of dramatizing things. 

“Shit,” I muttered. I jumped up and ran all the way downstairs, nearly tripping down the stairs in my haste. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I looked up and came face-to-face with Nathan.

“If I’d known you were this excited about me coming over, I would’ve come earlier,” he said with an amused look on his face.

“I was not excited about you coming over,” I assured him, ignoring the heat creeping up on my cheeks. “I was just—never mind. Where’s your stuff?”

“It’s in my car. I can go get it right now, if you want,” he said, pointing behind him.

It took a few seconds for his words to process. Trish was standing behind him, and her frantic motioning and salivating was kind of distracting. “Yeah. If you need any help, I’m sure Trish would love to help you out.” I shot her an expectant look.

Trish snapped out of her daze and nodded. “Oh, yeah. I’d love to help you out with, uh, whatever you need. If you know what I’m saying.”

“Oh, my God. Trish!” I hissed. What was wrong with her?

“I was just saying! Come on, hot-cheeks. Let’s grab your stuff.”

Trish began to walk out the door, and Nathan looked back at me before following her. “Not very subtle, is she?” he asked, that amused look still on his face.

I shook my head. “Nope.”

I debated going back up to my room but eventually decided I couldn’t trust Trish to remain appropriate around Nathan and stayed.

Nathan’s luggage was so extensive that Trish almost got caught in the doorway when she tried to walk through with Nathan’s numerous bags.

“What did you do, bring your entire apartment?” I asked him.

“Pretty much,” he said from behind a wall of suitcases. “I plan on staying a while.”

“Hallelujah!” Trish screamed as she began to waddle up the stairs. “Finally we get some excitement around here!”

“Let’s just show you to your room,” I said, but I didn’t move. I’d just caught sight of Nathan’s bulging muscles, strained from holding up his luggage, and I was more focused on that than what I was saying. Sweet baby Jesus…

Luckily, Nathan couldn’t see what I was fawning over. He just noticed I’d suddenly gone quiet. “Dree?”

“Let’s go. Careful on the stairs.” I shook my head at myself, following Trish’s shaky figure.

Nathan almost fell a couple of times, but he successfully made it to the top of the second flight of stairs and stopped.

“What are you doing? There’s one more flight of stairs,” I said, walking around him and nudging him forward.

“Jesus Christ. How big is your house?” He grunted and mumbled incoherently to himself as he walked up the last flight of stairs.

“There are four floors, plus a basement and attic,” I said.

This just made him mumble even more. Finally, we arrived at my floor and Nathan and Trish were able to set down their truckload of luggage.

“This will be your room,” I said, pointing to a closed door on my left side. It was the room right next to mine. Okay, fine. It looked kind of bad, but I’d given him that room purely out of convenience. It would be easier for him to assist me if he was always nearby. This change just happened to occur during Nathan’s tenure.

Trish, however, couldn’t keep her big mouth shut, and she just had to make a big deal out of it. “Giving him the room right next to yours, eh? That’ll make it easier for you to sneak over and have some sexy time, then. I’ve taught you so well.” She let out some fake sobs of pride.

“Trish. No.” I should’ve had another maid help us out. Trish was starting to incite murderous thoughts within me.

Nathan was far less upset than I was, to say the least. “That’s fine with me,” he said, his voice undertaking the same suggestive tone Trish had been using all day.

I shot him a look.

“Oh, come on. I’m a guy, and you’re fucking gorgeous. What do you expect me to say?”

Well, I hadn’t expected him to say that, but I definitely wasn’t complaining. His compliment meant more to me than he probably realized.

“Never mind. Let’s just get you settled in,” I said, showing him to his new room. It wasn’t as big as my room, but it was still impressive, albeit plain. No one had lived in it since before my dad bought the house, and it lacked any kind of personal touch. The walls were bare, the sheets were fresh, never having been slept in, and the furniture was sparse. I was curious as to how Nathan would make the room his.

“Is this the room my sister used?” he asked, looking at the room in slight awe.

“No, this is a new one. Your sister used one of the rooms across the hall.” I was starting to regret giving him this room. It looked pretty bad.

He didn’t say anything, but Trish just had to. “Yeah, Adriana’s not interested in that sort of sexy time.” She snickered at her own comment.

Instead of reprimanding her, I pinched Trish as hard as I could, and she yelped loudly.

“Let me be perfectly clear,” I said, feeling the need to clarify the situation. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea thanks to Trish. “I gave you this room because I’ve learned from my previous mistakes. A room across the hall didn’t work because it wasn’t close enough. Staying in the room right next to mine makes it easier for you to hear me and get to me, and no, it will never be used for sexy time.”

“I never said I expected sexy time,” Nathan said, fighting a smile. “I just said I’d be fine with it, and I definitely wouldn’t say no.”

“Same thing.” I waved his comment off. “Just so you know, these walls are ridiculously thin, so no funny business and no excuses like, ‘Oh, were you calling me? I didn’t hear you.’ I know you can hear me perfectly well. Trish and I tested it yesterday and could hear everything the other said.”

“It’s true. We did.” Trish nodded solemnly.

Nathan was quiet for a moment as he pondered something. “What kind of funny business are you talking about? Because like I said, I’m a guy, and I have needs.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked slowly.

Trish seemed equally confused for a moment until she said, “Ohhh.” When I raised an eyebrow at her, she matter-of-factly said, “Solitary sexy time.”

“Oh.” I wrinkled my nose. “I didn’t need that mental image… Er… you can have, uh, quiet solitary sexy time on your own time.”

“Sweet,” he said, plopping down on his new bed.

He was so completely unashamed of everything he did and said. It was horrifying. There had to have been something inherently wrong with this guy.

I walked over to the mahogany desk in his room and grabbed the agenda I’d placed there the night before. Mousy had left behind her agenda when she was fired, and luckily for Nathan, she’d worked ahead. She was actually a pretty good assistant, despite the Starbucks fiasco. I just didn’t like her. Overachieving work ethic didn’t trump personality in this case. Nathan was another clear example of this.

“Mousy left her agenda behind, and luckily for you, she worked ahead,” I said, handing him the black agenda.

“You call my sister Mousy?” he asked incredulously.

I didn’t answer his question. “Her notes should be enough to get you started. You have to confirm the day’s plan with my booker every morning, starting today. I have a fitting at eleven and a photo-shoot right after, so you have an hour to get settled in.”

Nathan looked around. “Yeah, I’m gonna need more than an hour.”

“You can continue when we come back,” I told him. “I’m gonna go get ready for this fitting, but don’t forget to call my booker!”

“You have no faith in me,” he said, seemingly offended. “Don’t worry. You just go do your lady stuff. I’ll handle this.”

“Alright,” I said warily, taking a few steps back. “I’ll be back later.”

My reluctant faith in him lasted about ten seconds. He lost it when he asked Trish, “So what’s a booker?”

***

At a quarter until eleven, I headed off to my fitting with Nathan, a chauffeur, and—thankfully—no mother in tow. My mother had things to do at the office and left around seven, making sure I was up before she left. She didn’t want me to laze around and “literally do nothing” like I’d done a couple days earlier. I went back to sleep as soon as she left, but I woke up an hour later. I couldn’t really sleep knowing Nathan would be moving in soon.

During the week, I didn’t have to deal with my mother as often as I did on the weekends. She didn’t have time to accompany me everywhere during the week. She was a model turned fashion designer, although she liked to control my career on the side. Her fashion shows were the only ones I had a guaranteed entry to, despite her best efforts to transform me into a power hungry model. Her shows were enough to launch my career, though, and my regular appearance in them was enough to help me get into other fashion shows.

She couldn’t let me just frolic about without her, of course. She had to have some sort of control, so she settled for calling me a few times a day to make sure I was where I was supposed to be because she “worked so hard to make sure you had this fitting/casting/show.”

She called me before I left for the fitting to make sure I was ready, and she called Lawrence—the fashion coordinator for my next runway show—to make sure it was okay if I showed up without her. He was reluctant; he normally required all models under eighteen to bring a parent or guardian with them to each fitting. He decided to make an exception for me in the end, and I was good to go.

My chauffeur dropped Nathan and me off in front of the fashion studio, and we walked in the building. I was surprised when Nathan opened the door for me. I was so used to walking around with Mitch, who usually let the door hit me in the face.

There were several different rooms available for fittings, and there was a main waiting area as soon as you walked in. I went in the first room to the right, and just before I entered, Nathan awkwardly announced, “I’ll just wait here.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” Lawrence said, grabbing a large garment bag from a clothes rack. “I scheduled another fitting for you because I couldn’t get much input from you with your mom around. I want to know what you think and want without being influenced by her, and to be perfectly honest, she’s a nightmare.”

“Yeah, she’s a bit overbearing,” I said. It took a lot of self-control not to go into a tirade over just how overbearing she was. “It’s kinda hard to get my opinion in without her feeling like I’m going against her.”

“That’s exactly what I want to avoid. I have a few things for you to try on today, and I want your honest opinion, not your mom’s.” He opened the garment bag and revealed the green dress I’d tried on when I came here with my mother. He opened another one and revealed an identical dress in red. “What do you think of the green one? If you prefer red, that’s fine, but I want it to come from your mouth.”

“When I tried it on, I didn’t think it favored me, but I didn’t think it looked bad, either. I think the dress is gorgeous in either color, and it’s your choice.” I really didn’t care enough to prefer one or the other.

“Let’s get this red one on you and see which one works,” he said, handing me the red dress. This dress was a part of his formal collection, and it was gorgeous. It would have made a beautiful prom dress in either color if I’d had a prom. As a homeschooled student with limited social interaction outside of my accepted circle of model friends, I’d never had the chance to go to prom. Now that I’d finished high school, I had absolutely no chance at having a prom. Nathan was lucky. He’d had a prom, and he’d even been named Prom King. I would’ve killed to have had the chance to be Prom Queen.

The second I looked in the mirror and saw how the red dress looked on me, I knew it was no contest. Based on his facial expression, I could tell Lawrence was in agreement with me. “While I’d love to go against your mom’s wishes and have you wear the green gown, it’d be a shame to deprive the runway of you in this dress.”

I smiled, both at my reflection and his comment. “Maybe she’ll be so grateful you chose the red dress that she’ll ignore the size of my ass.”

Lawrence laughed and said, “Honey, I chose you for this piece because you have an ass. You actually fill the dress out. It looks perfect.”

I knew that in modern teen culture, my dilemma wasn’t much of a dilemma, but in the fashion world, it was generally a problem. Models were rulers, not whatever I was. Hearing that Lawrence saw my butt as a trait and not a fault was amazing.  

“Did you end up finding a new assistant? I can’t imagine you’d want your mom to hire someone for you.”

“I did, actually,” I said, and I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face. My mother was going to hate him. It was great. “Let’s just say my mother will be less than pleased by my choice.”

“I’m officially intrigued. Who is this mystery assistant? Is she outside?”

“He is waiting for me outside.”

Lawrence’s mouth dropped open. “You hired a man? Oh, no wonder you said your mother wouldn’t like your choice. Is he at least cute?”

“You have no idea.”

With the prospect of seeing this mystery guy for himself, Lawrence worked quickly but efficiently, getting my opinion on all of the pieces I was going to wear in his fashion show. He already had my measurements, so he just needed input on the piece itself.

When we were finished, he followed me outside, grabbing onto my arm when he saw Nathan. “Is he a model?” he whispered in my ear.

“No,” I whispered back.

“He should be. Can you make it happen? Plant the idea in his head?”

I really couldn’t see Nathan going for it, but I didn’t want to crush Lawrence’s dream of seeing Nathan on the runway. “I can try and see if he’d go for it,” I warily replied.

“Why are you guys whispering?” Nathan finally asked. “Do I have something in my teeth?” He flashed his teeth and began poking around with his finger, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion when he couldn’t find anything.

I didn’t bother pointing out that his mouth had been closed the entire time Lawrence and I had been standing there, at least until he purposely opened it. Nathan was a lost cause.

“It’s nothing. Just fashion stuff,” I said, casually waving it off. “Well, I’ll see you soon, Lawrence. Thanks for everything!”

“No problem,” Lawrence said, still eyeing Nathan with approval. “Don’t forget what we talked about!” he called out as Nathan and I began to leave.

“I won’t!” I yelled back.

“Did you eat anything back at the house before we left?” Nathan asked, glancing around for the limo, but it was nowhere to be found.

“No,” I said.

He looked at me and frowned. “Are you hungry? I brought some granola bars in case you got hungry.”

I was about to say no—saying no to food was pretty much hardwired in my brain—until I realized I was starving. “Let me see it,” I said, reaching out for it.

Nathan handed me the granola bar, and I examined the back with a frown. 132 calories. Granola bars were pretty filling, and I hadn’t eaten anything yet. It couldn’t hurt.

“I brought a carrot, too, but then I realized I was treating you like my sister’s rabbit so I chucked it in exchange for some granola bars.” He paused and, seeing the look on my face, he added, “Relax, Dree. I know it’s a snack, but it can count as your lunch if you’re so worried. Well, I guess it’d be brunch since you didn’t have breakfast.”

I thought about eating it, but in the end I decided to save it for later. I handed it back and when he was about to protest, I said, “I’ll eat it after my photo-shoot so I won’t look bloated.”

He frowned. “Promise?”

“Promise. I eat, you know. Just not as much as you,” I joked, trying to veer off the subject.

He still didn’t look happy, but he did smile at my attempt at a joke. “Good. If you don’t, I’ll just shove it in your face and force you to eat it.”

“So gallant of you.”

“I’m known for it.”

The limo pulled up just as we settled that dispute, late because of traffic, and we headed off to the photo shoot with Nathan talking about how I “really just needed a good Big Mac.” Hah. Dream on, Nate.

***

A/N: Oh, how I love Nathan.... can he please be real? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease I'm #foreveralone. Lololol.