Page 45 of One Reckless Night

I stepped into the boutique, the air itself feeling expensive, like it had been doused in some luxury perfume. My fingers brushed against a rack of silky dresses. I exhaled sharply, jerking my hand back as if I might sully their fine fabrics. This was madness. Completely unnecessary. But if Jared was going to force me into this, I wasn’t going to half-ass it.

Roger lingered a few steps behind, his hands clasped politely in front of him. “Anything catch your eye?” he asked, his tone light but with a hint of amusement. Like he was enjoying my discomfort.

“Everything,” I muttered, flipping through a row of dresses. “And none of it.” I pulled out a sleek black number, holding it up to myself in the mirror. It was simple but elegant—exactly my style. The price tag made me wince.

The clothing felt like it was made for women half my size. Did the designers know women had hips?

I grabbed a few more dresses off the rack, my fingers hesitating over the price tags, and settled on two. Both were beautiful. Both were outrageously expensive.

I held them up, giving myself a onceover in the mirror. “Alright,” I muttered to myself. “Let’s see if these are worth the price of a small car.” I glanced over my shoulder at Roger, who was leaning casually against a display table, scrolling on his phone. “I’m taking these to the dressing room,” I announced, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

He looked up and nodded. “Take your time. I’ll be here.”

The dressing room was a whole experience in itself—plush carpet, soft lighting, and a full-length mirror framed in gold. I hung the dresses on the hooks and stared at them for a moment, feeling a strange mix of excitement and guilt. This wasn’t me. I didn’t do things like this. I bought my clothes on sale, at places where I could justify the cost with a mental calculation of how many meals or bills it equated to.

But Jared had forced this on me, and if he was going to insist, I wasn’t going to waste it. I slipped out of my casual clothes and into the black dress first, pulling it over my head and letting it fall into place.

To my surprise, it actually fit very well. I almost looked sexy.

The other dress was not as nice. I left it in the fitting room and took the black dress with me.

“This’ll do for the conference,” I said, tossing it over my arm.

Roger nodded approvingly but didn’t comment.

Next, I found a pair of tailored trousers and a blouse that wouldn’t look out of place in a boardroom. Practical. Professional. Not that Jared would appreciate either of those things. He probably expected me to waltz out of here in something strapless and glittery, ready to play arm candy at his ridiculous gala.

By the time we were done, I had a several shopping bags. I felt ready.

“Salon next,” he said before leading me to a high-end beauty parlor a few blocks away.

I didn’t argue. If Jared wanted me to look the part, fine. I’d let them do whatever they wanted with my hair. I sat in the chair, watching in the mirror as the stylist worked her magic. Roger settled into a nearby seat, his head nodding as he dozed off. It was kind of cute, and I couldn’t help but smile.

But as the afternoon crept on, I started to feel a knot of anxiety forming in my stomach. There was one thing I needed to do today that I didn’t want Roger to know about.

Jared didn’t need to know all my secrets.

“Hey,” I said, shaking him gently in the chair. “I need to run an errand. I can get a cab.”

Roger blinked, rubbing his eyes. “What kind of errand?”

“Just… something personal,” I said, my tone vague. “I’ll be there for a while, so you don’t need to wait. I can walk to the convention center and hotel from there. It’s not far.”

Roger hesitated, his brow furrowed. “I don’t know, Dr. Pritchard. Jared said⁠—”

“Jared said to make sure I used his card,” I interrupted, holding up the shopping bags. “Which I did. And he said to take me to the salon. Which you did. This is just… a personal thing. Please.”

Roger studied me for a moment, then sighed. “Fine. But your shopping bags are going to the hotel. I’ll have them brought up to your room.”

I nodded, relief flooding through me. “Thank you, Roger. I really appreciate it. That would be wonderful.”

He drove me to the address I gave him, a few blocks away from my mom’s care facility. I climbed out of the car. My heart pounding, I watched him drive away. Then I turned and hurried down the sidewalk, my stomach in knots.

The care facility was a nice place, modern and clean, with a staff that was always kind and professional. But no matter how nice it was, it was still a place where people went to die. And my mom was one of them.

I was escorted to her room. My hands trembled as I pushed open the door. She was sitting in a chair by the window, her frail body wrapped in a blanket. Her hair was thin and gray, her face lined with age and illness. But when she looked at me, her eyes were bright, filled with a kind of innocence that broke my heart.

“Oh, look at you!” she said, her voice soft and sweet. “You’re such a beautiful little girl. Is your daddy home yet? He said he’d take us to the Christmas market.”