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Scott seemed to take it all in stride. “Agreed.” He squeezed her hand and she thought she would melt right there. “You’re quite capable, sweetheart. But you’re working for TBK now and you get a wardrobe allowance. Let’s drop the ‘Mr. Knight,’ too. We’re way past that, okay?” The last part was less a request and more of an order.
“You’re just saying that, Scott.” She pulled her hand free of his. “I’ve never heard of a wardrobe allowance before.” But why would she? She’d only worked in clerical jobs in small companies, most with only a single location. TBK had offices all around the country and in Canada. Dallas even had an office.
Maybe he was telling the truth about the allowance.
She looked down at her gray slacks and pink blouse. Other than what she’d worn into the courtroom yesterday, it was the most formal outfit she owned. Pretty sad. She was now working with two young Internet moguls, not in a tiny dentist office. How soon would she be walking into boardrooms with some of the richest people in the world? If today was any clue of what the next three months were going to be like, there was a high probability it would be very soon an
d often.
She glanced back at Scott with his so-very-kind brown eyes. His stare made her tingly inside.
Maybe he only wanted to give her a new wardrobe and was using the pretense of an allowance from TBK to do it.
“What’s the allowance total for staff?” she asked, trying to get to the bottom of it. Pride might’ve been all she had left, but at least it was something.
“At your current level? Twenty grand.”
Her jaw dropped. “Twenty thousand dollars. You’ve got to be kidding.”
He smiled. “Do you need more?”
“Stop teasing me.” She thought about asking him who else had such a budget for clothing at his company but didn’t. “If you want me to up my apparel for TBK I will, but I won’t spend a fraction of that kind of money on clothes for myself.”
His tone turned firmer, more like Eric’s was all the time. “You accepted our deal, Megan, didn’t you?”
She nodded.
“Glad you remembered. You will spend every dollar and you will do that today.” He grabbed his wallet from his pocket in his jacket. Pulling out a credit card, he handed it to her. “Use this.”
“I’ve never seen this credit card before. I thought Amex only came in green or gold.” That was what she had taken from customers at her many public-facing jobs, besides Visa and MasterCard. “This one is black.”
“Yes it is, sweetheart. It’s a pretty exclusive card. The good thing with it is the sales folks will be happy to help you. It doesn’t have a set limit. Don’t you dare look at the tags, okay? Dylan’s going with you.”
“This is too much, Scott. I’m not Julia Roberts and you’re not Richard Gere.” She held the card out for him to take, but he only stared at her.
“Megan, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, but you have to stop pushing back so hard.”
She looked back at the black card. No limits. Was this what winners of the Powerball jackpot felt like? Stunned, as she was right now? “I don’t know what to say. I’m not good at accepting gifts of any kind.”
He left his chair and crouched down in front of her. “Megan, make me happy and let me do this for you.”
“I want to but it’s hard. I’ve been on my own for so long.” She gazed at Scott and saw more than just a handsome, sexy man. He was kind, honest, and caring. He and Eric had turned her entire life around in a flash. Just a couple of days ago, she was in Dallas with absolutely no hope and no options. Familiar territory. Now she was in a private jet, winging her way to New York with the shopping spree of a lifetime hers for the taking.
His eyes narrowed. “Are you still in love with Kip?”
“No,” she blurted. “I thought I was in love with him, but I knew on our wedding night I’d made a mistake. He was a damn liar and a user.”
“What did he do to you?” Scott’s face darkened with apparent anger. Such rage would’ve been terrifying had it been pointed her direction, but it wasn’t. She found it strangely satisfying that his ferociousness was leveled against Kip for his harm to her, even though she’d yet to tell him what it was.
“He lied to me, Scott. I’d lost my mother to cancer and he came into my life. Flashy and flirty, he swept away my grief.” She raised the black Amex card between them for a moment. “He must’ve had one of these, though I don’t remember ever seeing him use it. He always used cash, lots of it.”
“Megan, I’m sorry. Did he buy you clothes? Did my offer remind you of him?”
“No, Scott. He never bought me anything, except dinner a few times. He did take me for many rides in his Maserati, though. He wasn’t like you and Eric. Very different. He wanted all the limelight and I was happy to let him have it just to keep my sadness and loneliness at bay.” The ancient pain welled up inside her like a rising flood. “Why am I telling you this? You don’t want to hear my troubles.”
Once again, he grabbed not one, but both her hands. “I do, sweetheart. I want to hear it all. Please.”
Where Eric’s intensity came in shiver-inducing commands, Scott’s took the shape of gentle, mouthwatering nudges. Both were impossible to resist.
