Page 46 of Playing Mr. Perfect

I feel something magical, too, but I’m pretty sure hanging out anywhere with Pepper would feel that way.

“I can’t believe I just said that.” She laughs softly. “I don’t use words like magical.”

“Magic looks good on you, Reckless.”

She gives me the sweetest smile, reeling me in for another kiss. I throw away our trash and reach for her hand. “Let’s go, beautiful. Time to get our picture drawn.”

There are lines for most of the artists, but we find an older gentleman who’s sketching caricatures, and we don’t have to wait for too long before sitting for our sketch. The artist speaks in broken English, telling us the history of the square, and we learn there’s a ten-year waiting list to secure a spot there.

When he’s done with the sketch, we rave about it and thank him for doing such a good job. We walk away, trying not to laugh. It’s not just a sketch. It’s a mix of shapes and angles and long flowing hair over bare shoulders. We’ve got sharp noses, large, lustful eyes, and plump lips.

“Is it just me, or did he make me look like Michael Jackson?”

“He did.” Pepper laughs. “I’ve got to give him credit. You’re the hottest MJ I’ve ever seen, but why did he draw us naked?”

“To go with those blowjob lips he gave you, of course.”

We both crack up.

“I wish my lips were as full as he drew them.”

“Your lips are perfect.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

“I don’t just like them. I’m obsessed with them.” I brush my lips over hers. “I think I might be a little obsessed with you, too, Reckless.” I punctuate my point with another kiss, and before either of us can overthink it, I say, “Onward!”

On our way out of the square, we stop a tall, chicly dressed woman and explain that we’re here for the day, and ask her where we should go next.

Her gaze moves assessingly over Pepper. “This lovely woman should be dressed in Dior. You must take her to Avenue Montaigne and buy her something beautiful.” She gives me the same scrutinizing once-over and says, “You have handsome bone structure. It must be Armani for you.”

“You have good taste,” I say. “Thank you. Have a nice afternoon.”

As she walks away, Pepper laughs. “Dior?”

“That’s right, Reckless. Time to get a taxi.” I take her hand and head for the street, excited to treat her like a princess and watch her squirm, and bloom, right before my eyes. Like she did in the bedroom.

“We are not spending that type of money.”

“You’re right. We aren’t. I am.”

“Clay.” She gives me a stern look.

“You made the rules, and we’re not breaking them. Besides, we need clothes for tonight.”

Chapter Twelve

Pepper

The hours pass in a whirlwind. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun. I’m treated like a queen at Dior, and though I fight Clay every step of the way, I finally settle on a black cocktail dress with heels to match, both of which are shamefully expensive. I apologize for initiating the must-do game a dozen times, but he just smiles and kisses me, bringing wild flutters to my chest and stomach, like he’s been doing all day. He arranges for my outfit to be sent to the hotel, and we hit Armani next, where Clay seems more than comfortable. I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s a chameleon, acting like a carefree kid one minute and looking like a bigger heartthrob than James Bond in an Armani suit the next. He makes arrangements for his purchases to be sent to the hotel, too.

It’s after two o’clock when we finish, and we realize we haven’t eaten lunch. Clay asks the salesman for our next destination, and we head to Hôtel Plaza Athénée, an iconic luxury hotel and restaurant, where we enjoy an elegant champagne lunch.

“What do you think, Reckless? Are you glad you stayed, or are you worried about work?”

It’s so easy being with him when we’re not hiding from my family, I realize I haven’t thought about work once since we left the hotel. Well, it’s been easy other than when he was making me spend his money. That wasn’t easy for me. Although being treated like a queen was almost as fun as being with Clay. He makes me feel special every second we’re together. He’s so different from the man I thought he was.

That hefty realization momentarily steals my voice. But he’s looking at me expectantly, and I want him to know the truth, so I find my voice. “I’m really glad I stayed.”