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She sniffed and demanded, “Can I speak to the manager, please?”
The assistant, dressed from head to toe in white, with wide-flaring tailored pants and a slim-fitting camisole that showed everything while somehow looking business-casual, frowned. “May I help you?”
“Yeah, by getting me the manager. I don’t like how you’re looking at us—”
I snorted at Lisandra’s complaint, amused by her outburst, then, by chance, I saw one of the assistants I’d worked with two years ago.
His eyes lit up at the sight of me, and I gave him a small wave. He was only a few years older than me and was the store owner’s son. I’d had a little crush on him at the time, back before crushes had become verboten—well, not for me. For them. Eoghan wouldn’t have done anything, but Father would have castrated him if he so much as went near me.
“Inessa?” he called out, like he was confused.
To be honest, I was surprised he remembered my name. “Yeah, hey, Jack.” Okay, so I remembered his too. How lame was I?
The assistant frowned at me, then at Jack. “Is everything okay, Mr. Levigne?”
“Yes, of course. Inessa is…” His words waned. “I think I just saw you in the society pages, right? You’re married to Eoghan O’Donnelly now?”
I could sense his disappointment, even as I saw the assistant eying me up even worse than she had before.
Lisandra sniffed. “Suck on that, bitch.”
Barely refraining from laughing, I told Jack, “Yes, and I’m looking to redecorate our place. Can you help me?”
“Of course—”
“No, Mr. Levigne, let me—”
“No,” I snapped, glaring at her. “Jack, I’d likeyouto help me.”
He eyed the assistant who was trying not to glower at me, then shrugged as he led me back toward his office where we were seated by a desk.
The store was set up as a show room. Different pieces for different rooms tucked into a tiny space. They had catalogues, though, from different designers that came from all over the world, and some of my favorites were based in India.
When Lisandra and I had taken a seat, I smiled at him when he asked, “Would you like a coffee?”
“Please.”
After he’d asked Lisandra, he told the assistant, who brought us our cups a few moments later.
When she’d disappeared, I informed him, “She’s bad for business.”
He tensed, evidently surprised by my remark. “Huh?”
“Don’t play dumb, Jack,” I said dryly. “You had to know how she was looking at us.”
“We’ve had no complaints before,” he countered stiffly.
“Well, you’re getting one now,” Lisandra inserted with a growl. “Two, in fact. That woman is a class A bitch. You’re lucky Inessa saw you, because she’d have been striding out that door two seconds later if she hadn’t.” Under her breath, she muttered, “I’d have made her.”
I knew Jack didn’t like that we were complaining, but the woman had judged us on our appearances and had found us wanting. I actually knew how Vivian had felt when she’d walked down Rodeo Drive and the shop assistants had refused to help her inPretty Woman.
Being found wanting was something I already felt most days without her needing to add to the shit on my shoulders.
Just knowing that Eoghan O’Donnelly’s name was enough to make her judge me even more put me on edge.
I should be going to college, heading off to live in a dorm, enjoying frat parties with Lisandra, and raving the night away.
Instead, I was married to a property magnate who, in truth, was a serial killer for cash.
