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I snort. "Yeah, I don't think so. I mean, there's nothing wrong with it when you need one. I just know the basics. Finance is my thing."
"Your thing?"
I shrug. "I like numbers. I like taking risks. I've been playing with my investment portfolio since I was fifteen, and I've tripled what I had access to the first year."
"I dread asking how much money you had access to at fifteen."
I stifle a laugh. I've seen her accounts. I'm not going to tell her."Not as much as I would have liked. My trust is set up so I could only use a tenth before I turned eighteen, then I got twenty-five percent. Half is unlocking two years from now, and I get the whole thing when I turn thirty.Or when I get hitched, whichever happens first."
She nods, like she finds it reasonable. "Makes sense. That way, spoiled brats can't blow all their money on booze and chicks."
I wink at her. "I’m only spending mine on one chick. And I'm not even blowing one percent of what I have access to on her."
"Oh my god, you'redisgustingly rich. Can't you, like, give to charity or something?"
"I do that." I shoot her a grin. "It's a tax write-off."
She swats my arm gently. "You're a terrible person."
Don't I know it."In fact," I continue, glad for the opening, "we have a charity gala tonight. Something about earthquake relief."
Her eyes budge. "A gala? Camden, I'm walking like a penguin. Besides, I have nothing to wear."
I kill the engine and circle the car to open her door. "Which is why we're here."
She looks around, confused. "Where's here?"
"You'll see." I toss the car keys to a valet and help her out, then wrap my arm around her to support her as we walk to the building.
ChapterForty-One
I don't belong here.
From the chandelier to the deep velvet curtains and the luxurious fabrics on display, everything about this place screams opulence and unrestrained, almost garish wealth.
The woman who greets us is dressed in the same aqua blue featured everywhere in this store, with a littlefascinator attached to the complex updo her black hair is twisted into.
"Camden!" She's all smiles for him, and completely ignoring me, making it painfully clear that she realized the same thing I did: I shouldn't be here.
What's this place, anyway?
"Anne." He nods curtly. "We have an appointment with Valentina."
"I didn't see your name on her agenda," she replies, batting her long lashes at him.
She must be twice his age, but she doesn't seem to care. Camden doesn't seem uncomfortable with the attention either. And why would he be? Camden is never uncomfortable with anything. Not to mention, she's quite beautiful, in a poised, worldly way—like great ladies on TV.
"That's because it's under Morgan's name. Eight thirty."
Her friendliness turns fake as she's forced to acknowledge my existence. "I see. Is it your first time with Valentina, miss?"
I don't even have time to nod, before Camden pushes past Anne, ignoring her attempt at taking charge of the situation. "We know the way."
I snicker as we walk away. "She's going to need Botox after that."
"Was that an insult, Morgan? I thought ladies were supposed to stick together."
I wrinkle my nose. "She started the bitchiness. Admittedly, it was self-contained, restrained bitchiness, but I got the vibe. Did you fuck her?" I wonder.
