Strip Me Bare (17 page)

“So, that was eventful,” I say to break the
ice.

“Definitely one for the books,” Ryan huffs,
his breath swirling around in front of his face.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Fine, are you?”

“Yes. They loved you. I love you.” I stop
walking and face him.

“I love you, too.”

“Then tell me what you’re thinking, because
quiet Ryan is scaring the shit out of me.”

Ryan’s lips twist up into a smile, “I was
thinking about your uncle’s logo and all the ideas I have for
it.”

“That’s it? That’s why you’re quiet?”

“Yeah, why did you think I was quiet? Afraid
I wanted to break up so I can sleep with all my teeming women?”

“You heard that?” I curl my lip.

“Yup.”

“Alex can be an idiot sometimes.”

“It’s okay,” Ryan wraps his arm around me,
“Is that the kind of guy your father wants you to marry?”

“Alex? No. He has to be someone much
stuffier, but equally as rich.”

“Well, you’re not going to get rich or stuffy
here.”

I rest my head on his shoulder as we
walk.

“That’s completely fine with me.”

I pull on my blazer
and slip into my Kate Middleton shoes. At least that’s what I call
them. Tan heels that are feminine, yet conservative. That’s the
look I’m going for this morning. Feminine, yet conservative. I
start my internship at my uncle’s law firm today and I want to
dress the part perfectly. I smooth down my long blonde hair and
check my makeup in the mirror one last time. I kept it light, a
little mascara and some blush, with some dark pink lip gloss.

I walk out into the living room to find Ryan
sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, his computer on his
lap. I lean over the arm of the sofa and see the dozens of logos
he’s created as specs for my uncle.

“I like that one,” I say. It’s a circle with
the names of all four the partners written in black with the first
letter done in a larger, fancier script and colored deep red. “It
looks really professional and not too conservative.”

He looks up at me. His eyes are tired but his
expression is happy. “You look nice,” he smiles.

I run my hands over my outfit. I’m wearing a
white button up shirt tucked into a charcoal pencil skirt. “You
think?”

“I know.”

I take a deep, cleansing breath.

“You seem nervous,” Ryan observes.

“I am.”

“It’s your uncle’s law firm, they’ll treat
you right.”

“That’s just it, I didn’t do anything to
deserve this internship except share the same name with the
founding partner. I’ll need to work extra hard to prove
myself.”

“And you will,” Ryan reaches up and grabs my
hand.

“I’m glad you have so much confidence in
me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You have brains, beauty and
street smarts. You’re a triple threat,” he smiles engagingly.
“You’re going to make a kick ass lawyer.”

“I hope so,” I say unsure. “When are you
supposed to show your ideas to the firm?”

“Wednesday,” he says tensely, blowing out a
breath of hot air. It seems we both have job-related issues to be
anxious about.

I kiss Ryan goodbye, leaving him to his
project, walk outside and hail a cab.

I take the elevator to the twenty-third floor
of the Chrysler building. I step out into an opulent reception area
with dark wood floors and a long sleek desk. There’s a large, tan
granite wall behind the desk with all four partners’ names written
in big block letters: Remington, Anderson, Smith and Steele. It’s
very commanding.

I walk up, smoothing my shirt, and approach a
young girl with strawberry blonde hair, freckles and big green
eyes. She’s very pretty.

“Who are you here to see?” the girl asks with
a smile.

“John Remington,” I announce and her smile
gets bigger.

“You must be Alana.”

“Yes, I am,” I smile back tightly.

“Right this way,” she walks out from behind
the desk and escorts me through the huge double glass doors. As we
walk through the main hallway of the law firm I catch glimpses of
different things through the glass walls, lawyers in meetings, on
the phone or engrossed in their computer screen.

“I’m Reyna,” she says as we walk.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I reply. “How long
have you worked here?”

“Just a few months,” she says cheerfully. “I
just moved here from Texas, I got lucky and landed this job right
away.”

“You don’t sound like you’re from Texas.”

“No, I’m not. I’m from California originally.
Sierra Nevada area, I move around a lot.”

“What brought you to New York?”

“Jay-Z,” she laughs.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s true,” she laughs harder. “No one
believes me when I tell them that. I heard
Empire State of
Mind
and I just had to come experience the city for
myself.”

“Does it live up to the hype?”

She nods her head enthusiastically.

I think Reyna and I are going to get along
just fine.

Reyna leads me into a little room with no
windows, a desk and a chair. She hands me a clipboard with a stack
of papers on it and a pen. “Fill this out and I’ll let Mr.
Remington now you’re here.”

“Okay, thank you.” I sit down at the
desk.

“Alana, I’m here for whatever you need,
okay?”

I smile at her thankfully, and then she shuts
the door.

A little while later, after I’ve finished the
paperwork, Reyna comes back to tell me my uncle is ready to see
me.

I follow her out of the room and down the
long hallway that seems to be the main hub of the firm. We walk
through two more double doors where several huge offices are
situated. This is definitely where the big guns work. She motions
to an entrance on the right and I see my uncle through the glass,
he’s sitting at a huge cherry wood desk with a view of Manhattan
behind him that punches you right in the face. I walk in and when
he looks up, a wide smile lights up his face.

“Alana.” He stands and comes around the desk
to hug me, “I’m so excited you’re here.”

“Me too,” I say nervously. I don’t know why.
This is my uncle, I shouldn’t be nervous, but the grandeur of his
firm feels like it’s crushing me.

“Reyna showed you around?”

“Yes, a little, she’s very nice.”

“She is,” he agrees as he walks back behind
his desk, and I can’t help but follow him. I want to get closer to
the window and take in the magnificent view. I lean against his
desk with my arms crossed and get lost in the landscape.

“Phenomenal, isn’t it?” My uncle swivels in
his chair next to me, mirroring my arms.

“Totally,” I say transfixed.

We’re quiet for a moment before he says, “So,
Ryan. He’s an interesting boy.”

I immediately snap to attention. “Yes he is,”
I answer, and I’m scared he’s going to tell me to stop seeing
him.

I search my uncle’s face for any kind of hint
of what he’s thinking. I’ll give it to the Remington men; they can
conceal their emotions like none other.

“I don’t think he’s slept since you asked him
to present the logo ideas.”

“Driven, that’s good.”

“He wants to impress you,” I smirk. “Hell, I
want to impress you.”

My uncle looks up at me surprised. “Alana,
you do impress me. You’re a strong, intelligent young woman who is
at the top of her class at a prestigious law school.”

“There are plenty of young, intelligent women
who are at the top of their class at prestigious law schools,” I
counter diffidently.

“So what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, except competition.”

He cocks an eyebrow at me.

“Okay then, you know what really impresses
me?”

“What?” I draw my brown eyes down to his.

“You stand by a man whose occupation has
women throwing themselves at him on a nightly basis. I don’t know
how many young girls who would be able to do that. I don’t know how
many grown women who would be able to do that,” he grunts.

“Trust me, it’s not easy,” I scoff.

“I’m sure it’s not. And that’s exactly my
point. You endure. You do it with your father and with your
boyfriend. And that ability will give you the edge you need in the
competition department,” he says, nodding self-assured. “It’s not
going to hurt that you have my law firm on your resume either,” he
winks.

I grin down at him. My uncle, the voice of
encouragement.

“Now, if you’re ready,” he joshes, turning
back to his desk, “there’s work to be done.”

My smile broadens. I’m totally ready.

“Did you buy a new wardrobe?” I look down at
a bed that’s covered with clothes with the tags still on them.

Ryan comes out of the bathroom towel-drying
his hair, “I couldn’t decide what to wear so I bought a
selection.”

“You bought Michael Kors’ spring line.”

He laughs lightly then goes back into the
bathroom. “Pick something out for me,” he yells, the scent of his
body spray drifting into the room. It’s yummy.

I sift through the clothes; Ryan is meeting
with my uncle and the other partners today to look over his mock
ups. If they like anything they see, Ryan will have the task of
creating the law firm’s official logo. It’s not only a huge
undertaking, it’s a big break in his potential career.

I pick out a navy suit and match it with a
light blue pin-striped tie that I think will bring out his eyes,
along with a white dress shirt.

He walks back out of the bathroom, glances
down at my selection and smiles, “I was leaning towards that
suit.”

As we finish getting dressed, I can feel the
anxiety radiating off him. I can’t say I blame him for being
nervous; he’s about to meet four gods on Mount Olympus.

We hop a cab to the Chrysler Building, and
grab some coffee from a vendor truck parked out front on the
street. We take the elevator up and just as we step out into the
reception area we run into my uncle. He’s walking purposefully with
papers in his hand. His white shirtsleeves are rolled up to his
elbows and a gold chain hangs from the pocket of his black vest. He
smiles when he sees us.

“Well, don’t you two look like a power
couple?” he jibes, shaking hands with Ryan. “All ready?” he
asks.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Have a seat and one of the receptionists
will see you inside.” My uncle disappears through the double doors
of the firm. Ryan exhales an uneasy breath and takes a seat on one
of the leather chairs in the waiting room.

“Do you want me to stay with you until you’re
called in?” I ask, trying to be supportive.

Ryan smiles, a huge dazzling smile, “No,
that’s okay. I need to do this thing on my own.”

I nod, and lean down to kiss him. “Good
luck,” I whisper by his mouth, then leave to do my own work. As I
pass by the reception desk, Reyna
pssts
me.

“Hey,” she says as she follows me through the
doors. “Is that your boyfriend?” she asks conspiratorially.

“Um, yes. That’s Ryan.”

“His name’s not Jack?”

All the air leaves my body, but I try to stay
composed. “Why would you ask that?”

“Shelia is swearing up and down he’s the guy
who strips at Culture. She was just there last weekend.”

I chew on my bottom lip. Jesus, does every
woman under the age of twenty-five know who Ryan is? “No, maybe he
just looks like him?” I try to conceal Superman’s secret identity.
“He’s definitely hot enough to be a male stripper though,” I quip,
and then walk off.

“Hell yeah he is,” I hear Reyna mutter under
her breath, and it makes me smile a little.

Forty-five minutes later I steal a peek of
Ryan and the founding partners in a conference room. He has his
laptop open with one of his mock ups projecting on a big screen.
It’s the one I noticed the other day, the circle of names. My uncle
looks pleased, as do the others in the room. Ryan looks
surprisingly calm, and you can see the passion on his face as he
speaks. I secretly wish he gets the job. It would be a great
confidence booster for him.