“Remy, you don’t have to buy me things.”
“I want to. You’re doing me a favor.”
“How?” she laughs.
“I’ve been saving money for years. My business is good. I share all the expenses with my brothers, so we have extra. Heath pays them well.” She shakes her head. “Plus, I get a front row seat while you model clothes.”
“Shit,” she breathes.
“Let's get started.” I hold out my hand, and she stares at me before taking it. “You can choose anything here, but I asked her to make some selections.” I pull her across the space to the four racks of clothes in the back corner. “Pick a dress for tonight, and whatever else you like.” I let her go and point to the dressing room. “You can change there.”
“This is…” She nibbles on her finger, staring at the line of dresses.
“Haven,” I call softly, and wait for her to meet my eyes. I pull her hand away from her mouth. “This pleases me to do this foryou. It’s not a hardship to spend money on you. This is my way of taking care of you.”
“I have money,” she says.
“I know. That’s not the point.” I trail my fingers under her jaw. “I like the idea of you wearing what I provided for you. It’s a gift more for me than you.”
“Remy.” She grabs my wrist.
“And I’ll be sending pictures to my brothers to fuck with them,” I smirk, and she laughs. “Will you let me spoil you?”
“Oh, alright,” she sighs.
“I appreciate the sacrifice,” I tease, and kiss her briefly. “I’m ready for the show, mate.” She rolls her eyes and pulls away. I slap her ass as she turns.
“Hey,” she cries, rubbing her cheek.
“Don’t roll your eyes at your mate,” I say.
“Yes, Sir.” She glares.
“That’s better,” I drawl, and her breath catches.
I leave her thinking about my words and walk to the chair facing the dressing rooms. She glances over her shoulder at me several times as she looks through the fabric. I pull out my phone, focusing on the screen, hoping she will relax enough to pick something. Navigating to my email, I get lost in sorting through them and replying to the necessary ones. Owning a business isn’t easy. Dealing with all the employees, the drama of humans, and the paperwork is a pain in the ass. I’m thinking about firing my current manager; he’s not doing his job. I hired him to take some of the burden from my hands. I’ve warned him numerous times, and I’m done. A couple of the waitresses have alluded to his bad behavior, flirting with them inappropriately. I’ve spoken with the woman who oversees human resources, and we are getting everything in place to fire him. There is a waitress who has worked her ass off and is the lead of the waitstaff. Shedeserves to move up. She takes care of her family and goes to school. I like rewarding loyalty and hard work.
I feel the air move as Haven returns, and I glance up.
“I think it’s too short,” she says, twirling. The deep red fabric floats around her ass.
“Shit,” I rumble, adjusting myself. “Do you like it?”
“I don’t know.”
“If you like it, get it.”
“Don’t you think there should be more length?”
“You know your body. I don’t care if it’s short. No one will fuck with you.” We would tear anyone apart who said anything to her. They can look as long as it’s not long. I know who she’s going home with.
“I’m saying no. I’ll be pulling at the hem all night, uncomfortable.”
“Next one.” She turns to leave. “Wait.” I hold up my phone and take a picture mid-twirl.
“You were serious,” she laughs.
“Yes.”
