Page 38 of Passion and Privilege

Before Amber left, she had told me Scott was going to swallow his tongue and beg me to take him back. I couldn’t care less if he begged me. He had already done that, and it meant nothing.

I turned to the left and looked at my back in the dress. The low back was daring. More daring than anything I had ever worn in my life.

I swallowed hard, letting my fingers skim down the fabric, feeling it stretch tight against my skin. It was an odd sensation, one of power and spite.

I turned away from the mirror to pick up the expensive stiletto heels Amber had insisted on. They were black, matching the dress, with a dazzling array of crystals running along the back seam all the way to the heel. I had protested at first, saying that they were too extravagant, too flashy for my taste. But Amber had merely shaken her head, insisting that they were the perfect complement to the dress, and I couldn’t argue with that.

My feet were going to be killing me by the end of the night, but beauty was painful. At least that was what Amber said.

I did like the look. It was hot, even though it was weird to see myself dressed up. I spent the majority of my time in faded jeans and T-shirts that were splattered with paint and wood stain. I rarely did my hair or makeup. I rolled out of bed in the morning, showered, and went. All of this fuss was not my cup of tea, but for today, I was cool with it.

I was exhausted after a long morning of packing and preparing my belongings for the inevitable move. I had made peace with the fact that I would sleep on the couch at my dad’s place, at least temporarily. When Amber came over to do my makeup, she had nearly passed out when she saw me hauling boxes to my truck. She was horrified my fresh manicure was put at risk. I was so not used to worrying about my nails. Or makeup.

Now, as I looked at myself in the mirror, I could hardly believe I was me. A little voice inside my head wondered if I was really doing the right thing. But another voice, louder and filled with defiance, urged me to go ahead with the plan. The decision to attend Scott’s wedding was not an easy one. I didn’t want to see Scott and his future wife. It was going to be hard to see him marrying another woman, but the closure would be worth it. And I supposed there was some part of me that wanted him to be jealous. Timothy was a very attractive man.

I heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. I went to the window to see who it was. “No way,” I whispered when I caught sight of the convertible, classic Porsche.

The black car gleamed under the sun. It was pure elegance and luxury. Timothy got out, looking sharp in his tailored suit, his dark hair slicked back from his forehead. He looked up at my window, catching sight of me and smiling charmingly.

“Wow,” I breathed, hardly believing that this handsome man was here for me.

His gaze swept over the facade of my shabby apartment building. I was just a little embarrassed.

“Here goes nothing,” I murmured and grabbed the purse that matched the dress.

I heard the knock on the door. My nerves were all over the place as I walked to answer it. The look on Timothy’s face when he saw me left me speechless.

“You look—”

“Like a Barbie,” I muttered, blushing under his gaze.

He quickly corrected me, his voice filled with sincerity. “You look beautiful.” His gaze drifted around my packed apartment. “Why are you packing?”

“It’s a long story,” I said. “Shall we get going?”

“Just a second.” He pulled out two small jewelry boxes.

My heart dropped again. “What’s that?” I asked.

“You need to wear these. You have to look the part.”

“The part?”

“A rich man’s girlfriend,” he answered with a smile. “If you were my girlfriend, you would be decked out in diamonds every day. Even while on your knees restoring the tile in my foyer.”

I laughed. “I’m glad you finished that sentence. I thought you were going somewhere else with that.”

He chuckled and opened one of the boxes. Inside was a necklace with glittering diamonds, its heart-shaped pendant glimmering in the soft light of the room. In the other box lay a pair of earrings that matched the necklace, their sparkle as breathtaking as the piece of jewelry before them.

“I can’t accept these, Timothy,” I protested weakly. But he was insistent and gently fastened the necklace around my neck, his touch sending shivers down my spine. He then helped me put on the earrings, his fingers brushing against the soft skin behind my earlobe. I held my breath, suddenly acutely aware of our close proximity.

“Why are you doing all this?”

“I told you,” he said. “You have to look the part. If we’re going to make your ex eat his heart out, we want to make it a full meal.”

I laughed, feeling the weight of the diamonds on my skin. “It feels excessive,” I said.

He stepped back and looked at me. His gaze lingered on me, making me feel very warm. Finally, he cleared his throat. “We should go. It’s a bit of a drive. We don’t want to be late.”