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Seventeen
Clementine
By the timeI make it home after a busy day of work, all I can think about is the whirlpool tub in the en-suite in my room. It’s my new best friend. It’s been a few days since the ‘ghost debacle’ occurred that had me spending the night with Gabriel in his bed. If he’d said no, I was ready to beg. I felt safe having him next to me, but the next day, when the maid told me the air vent in my room makes a funny noise, I felt a little foolish I let my imagination go wild. Like when Tennyson would be scared of monsters and I would have to go debunk them in his room late at night.
Either way, I haven’t returned to Gabriel’s bed, and I don’t want to—much.
I go through the routine with Tenny, reading him a story before bed, making sure he has Mr. Giraffe to sleep with, and by the time I make it to my room, I’m exhausted.
I remove my shoes by the door, and unbutton my blouse as I walk across the cool hardwoods toward the en-suite.
“We need to talk,” a low voice says from the corner of the dark room.
I jump a bit. “You scared me, Gabriel.”
“Did you think I was a ghost?” He grins, sitting in the wingback chair in the shadows.
“No. Mia explained it’s the air-conditioning.” I fumble to re-button my blouse as I perch on the edge of the queen mattress. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Are you and Tennyson settling in well?”
“I think so.” I don’t want to tell him the truth that Tenny and I are liking this more than we should. It’s not like I’ve taken him on a shopping spree, and I won’t, but it’s the little things here we’ve never had access to before that are spoiling us—movies, whirlpool tubs, acres of land, on and on.
“Good. We have a party to attend tomorrow night.”
“Oh, ok.”
He stands from the chair and flips on the light. He’s stunning in his navy slacks and white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. As he steps closer, his scent reaches me first. A tantalizing combination of saffron and woodsy notes. It smells like what you imagine a gorgeous man fresh out of a GQ catalog would smell like. “This is for you.” He hands me a black card, and I take it from his fingers.
“What’s this?”
“It’s for anything you need. Just use this credit card from now on.” He strides toward the door. “And buy a dress for tomorrow night.”
“What kind of dress?”
On his way out, he throws a glance over his shoulder. “Make it sexy.”
I can play this game. I’ll find the sexiest dress on the market. Or not. I may soon be his wife, but he will never bully me.
* * *
The next day,since I didn’t even know where to find a dress that a billionaire’s fiancee would wear, Erin pointed me in the direction of Lane’s Exquisite Shop. A hideaway boutique for the wealthy. And now here I am, staring at the glass storefront, with my heart pounding, feeling a little like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. It’s only a dress, but I just know the moment I enter the store they’ll call me out for not belonging. I don’t belong. Not really.
“I’ll be waiting here,” Mayer says, after opening my car door.
“Thank you.”
I step away from the curb and head through the double-paned door into an open, airy loft-style store. Colorful dresses hang on racks in the center of the space.
“May I help you, Miss?” asks a blonde woman who towers over me in her five-inch heels. I’d like to think she’s looking down her nose at me because of our height difference. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt.
“I’m looking for a dress,” I respond.
Another lady walks toward the front, takes one look at me, and her mouth opens into an ‘O.’ “You’re the fiancee.” She turns to her co-worker. “Do you know who this is, Brittany?”
Brittany shakes her head, eyeing me up and down, with confusion.
“This is Gabriel Prince’s fiancee.”
