Wicked Pleasures [Steamy Short Stories]
The next day, Blair arrived at JESSÉ Atelier, this time wearing something decent which was a white turtle neck long sleeve top, a straight denim trousers that accentuated her curve and long black coat.
Jessica Fairchild’s office was a glass-walled shrine to ego. Photographs of her first runway show plastered the walls, framed magazine covers that praised her “meteoric rise” stacked neatly along the shelves.
Blair stood in the center of her office, watching Jessica smile like she was queen of the world.
“Blair! You came,” Jessica sang, rising from behind her desk. She pulled her into a tight hug.
Blair smiled faintly, feigning warmth. “Of course I did. My best friend started her own label so