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Five figures.
God, had she put it on Nick’s tab?
Had she bought her wedding ring on Nick’s tab?
The room tilted.
Someone would have some sort of answer for her dammit. Even if she didn’t have a hope or a prayer in figuring out this mess on her own she could at least check into the jewelry store. Her ring might not be completely one of a kind, but they would have records.
She hoped.
The shorts slipped First, she had to find pants that fit.
She avoided Luxe. That kind of spending was completely unnecessary. She just needed plain shorts. And a shirt that didn’t smell like him.
It was something to focus on.
And right now she had to cling to something. She checked her phone again and crossed to one of the trendy stores. She winced over the price tag for a minute before giving her room number one more time.
She passed women in their teens and early twenties, cooing over clothes. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cooed over anything that didn’t come in a size 3T. Not one to linger over her lot in life, she rushed into the dressing room. She barely touched the button on Michael’s shorts and they dropped around her ankles.
How was she completely without clothes. What the hell had she been doing last night?
Had she really had sex with him?
She winced a little as she wiggled into a pair of cotton panties. She much preferred to wash them before wearing, but beggars couldn’t be choosers at this point. She turned in the mirror and stared. She stepped closer until the pink marks came in clear.
What the hell was that?
She brushed her fingertips over the abraded skin.
Oh, God were those?
She slammed her eyes shut and quickly turned away. It had been a damn long time, but she remembered whisker burn a time or two in her life.
Dammit. She just couldn’t think about that. No how, no way. Once she didn’t look like a freaking hobo, she stuffed his clothes in her shopping bag and left the store.
The ring store was easy to spot.
Big and gold and sparkly.
Had it been that big the last time she’d been in?
She twisted her fingers together, the smaller engagement ring Snake had given her clicked against Michael—no, not Michael’s ring. Her mistake ring. One that she should return.
She lifted her chin and walked through the large, gilded doors.
“May I help you?” The woman was young and botox injected. Why on earth would someone do that to themselves? Or maybe it was just one too many chemical peels?
Turn off the bitch mode.
“Is Nathan available?”
The woman’s eyes cooled as her lips pursed. “Yes.” She pointed to the back.
“Thanks.” Chloe made her way back to the case. Déjà vu slapping her soundly as she got to the case. She wasn’t sure if it was from her day with the girls, or with…no. No, she just wouldn’t have.
“Miss Chloe! I didn’t expect you back so soon.”
