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Jasmine just laughed, used to my healthy appetite, and said, “I’ll have the French toast with strawberries.”
“You got it,” Dolores said, then went off to put in our order.
“Stealing from her?” I prompted, pissed at the notion that a man would steal from his own woman.
“Yup,” Jasmine said, popping the p. “Everything she’d been saving away to start her party planning business in Houston, he’d slowly been taking right back out of the account.”
“Obviously she found out, did she get the money back?”
Jasmine shook her head with a frown.
“He’d gambled it all away. That was the final straw. The bastard actually had the gall to try and turn it around on her like it was Laurel’s fault he’s a total ass and a shit gambler. She packed up her stuff and left that night. Then, when she got here, her parents tried to talk her in to going back to Houston, back to Travis.”
“They always were assholes,” I said with disgust, starting to feel a new respect for Laurel, and what she’d been through. What she’d overcome.
“That’s why I want you to make this weekend special. Give Laurel a trip unlike any other. Show her how she deserves to be treated.”
14
Laurel
I’d chickened out and texted rather than called Dillon.
Luckily, he’d replied back and let me know what I needed to bring with me, and since I was going as his plus one, the company would be paying for my travel. This was a huge relief, since all of my funds were currently going toward my dream.
I did, however, need the perfect dress to wear to the fundraiser event, and didn’t think the black slinky number I’d worn in my femme fatal moment was the appropriate choice. So, I decided to dip into my account and rent the perfect dress from Rent the Runway. It was gold, sparkly, and would meet me at the hotel the day of the event.
Chloe’s son, Chris, would be watching Princess while I was gone, so I didn’t have to worry about that, and I’d finished packing hours ago.
Now, I was pacing my apartment as I waited for Dillon to pick me up, eager and nervous at the thought of spending the weekend with him. I mean not with him, but we would be spending a lot of time together. More than we probably ever had in one sitting in our lives. The thought thrilled me even as it made my stomach turn.
What if he regrets asking me?
What if he ignores me all weekend?
What if it’s awful?
I promised myself that if Dillon started being a douche I’d let him do his own thing all weekend, but keep my word and go with him to the fundraiser event. Then, once we got back, my debt would be paid and we could go back to ignoring each other at holidays and events.
I really hoped that wouldn’t happen, though.
“He’s here, Princess, Mama’s gotta go,” I said, when I saw the black Lincoln pull up.
I picked her up and kissed her head, before placing her on the couch and grabbing my purse, travel bag, and rolling suitcase.
When I got outside, Dillon was waiting next to the car with the trunk open, and as soon as he saw me, he crossed to take my things and put them in the trunk. I was s
till standing on the sidewalk, surprised, when he came back around and opened the passenger door for me.
“You look great today,” Dillon said.
I slowly looked down at the leggings and long tunic I’d thrown on for the trip, then back up at him.
“Uh, thanks,” I replied, finally finding my feet and moving slowly toward him. “So do you,” I added, and he really did.
Dillon looked great in a suit, but casual Dillon would always be my favorite.
Jeans, a green V-neck that matched his eyes, and his hair slightly mussed was a really good look on him.
