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Felicity wrinkled her nose, disliking this Janeen woman already. “You dated her, right?”
His gaze was wary. “A million years ago, yes. She’s now happily married to a captain in the NYPD.”
“And she’ll just send dresses to your home, no questions asked?”
“I’ll have to give her a deposit on my platinum card, but yes.”
Felicity swallowed her feelings of pique. The man had a past. So did she. And they weren’t in a relationship. She nodded. “Then thank you. That would be great.”
He held out the baby. “If you’ll entertain this little one, I’ll make arrangements for the jet.”
“Isn’t that expensive? We can fly my airline if I can get us on standby.”
“With the baby, the private jet will be much more comfortable. And it will save time.”
As he walked out of the nursery, Felicity shook her head in bemusement. It was hard to reconcile this suave, wealthy businessman with the wild, driven boy she had known in Falcon’s Notch.
Was there anything left of the old Wynn Oliver? Or had he polished away all his rough edges in his rise to the top?
The shipment of dresses from Bloomingdale’s arrived midafternoon. Because Ayla was napping, and Wynn was holed up in his office dealing with work stuff, Felicity took the boxes and bags to her room and locked the door. Not that she expected anyone to bother her, but just in case.
She stripped down to her bra and panties and took the first dress out of the garment bag with the store’s logo. Immediately she saw that letting Wynn have carte blanche had been a mistake.
These were no run-of-the-mill outfits. As she opened and examined every piece of clothing that had been sent over—including purses and shoes—she realized the dresses were designer pieces.
When she glanced at a few of the price tags, she felt faint. One of these was equal to eight months of her car payments. What was Wynn thinking?
Felicity couldn’t in good conscience pay for any one of these without destroying her budget.
Even so, she tried them on. Wow. It was amazing what couture fashion did for a woman’s self-esteem.
Her favorite was a sleeveless black sheath. The cut was deceptively simple. The fabric made the dress. The slubbed dupioni silk hugged her body in all the right places and was extremely elegant.
She put everything back in the original packaging, leaving out only the black silk. It was exactly what she wanted. But certainly not what she could afford. How was she going to tell Wynn that his effort to be helpful had bombed?
After changing back into her own clothes, she poured herself a cup of coffee in the kitchen and returned to her room to begin packing. For the second time, she looked through all the clothes she had brought to New York, including the boxes she’d had shipped.
There was only one black dress in the entire lot, and it had long sleeves. It would be miserably hot for Florida. She really did need to go shopping, but how would she manage that without a confrontation?
She was almost done packing when Wynn showed up. Her door was open now. He surveyed the mess she had made. “Having trouble, Fliss?” His smile made her stomach do little cartwheels.
“I hate packing,” she said.
“That must be a drawback for a flight attendant.” His amusement made her flush.
“Packing for work is entirely different.” She sighed. “How will they manage at your office with you being gone again?”
He shrugged. “It’s a holiday week. You know how it is. Everyone’s brain shuts down early. They’ll be fine.” He glanced at the stack of Bloomingdale’s packages. “Did you find one you liked?”
She closed her carry-on and zipped it. “I appreciate you arranging all this, but I’ll need to find something a little less...”
“A little less what?” He frowned.
Felicity stared at him. “Less expensive, Wynn,” she said bluntly. “I can’t afford any of these.”
“I’ll buy it for you.”
His nonchalant words frustrated her. “No,” she said. “That wouldn’t be at all appropriate. If you don’t need me between now and dinner, I’ll make a quick shopping run. I know a couple of places where I can probably find the kind of dress I need without breaking the bank.”
