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“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 inPretty 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.”
Brittany’s pupils turn to dollar signs as she stares at me. “Oh, I didn’t know.”
The other store clerk walks closer. “What’s your name again?”
“Clementine,” I almost say it like it’s a question.
“Yes, well if you need anything, my name is Janet, and this is Brittany.” She points to the blonde standing next to her.
I smile. “Well, Janet, I need a really sexy dress. My soon-to-be husband is taking me to an event tonight.”
“Oh, I bet it’s the charity ball at that art gallery,” Brittany says.
Janet snaps her fingers together. “I have just the dress.” She bounces away with a little dance in her step, calling over her shoulder, “Follow me.”
She leads me to the back of the store, past all the racks of clothing, past two very plush off-white chairs with blue stripes, and even further into the dressing room territory where there’s a row of doors.
“Do I just go on in?” I ask, after she opens one of the doors for me.
“Yes, I’ll bring you the dresses. You’re going to feel like you’re in a fantasy.”
She gets my size and then hurries away. I step inside the pint-sized room with three walls of mirrors and take a seat on the soft-leather club chair. Little does she know, this isn’t a fantasy at all. Yet, that doesn’t stop me from playing out the fantasy late at night.
Ever since I slept in his bed, I keep imagining what it would be like if he kissed me. I keep replaying the evening at our engagement party over and over in my head. The night I changed in front of him. How his eyes ate me. How he couldn’t turn away. How he didn’t even try to hide the fact he was full on staring.
It was sexy.
It was hot.
It made me want to forget the fact I hadn’t been touched in years and I wanted him to rectify that. But, no. Never.
Janet returns with various items draped over her arm. “I brought you three.” She places the first on the bronze hook on the inside of the door. “This one is your basic ‘little black dress.’ An ‘I just want to blend in, but not really’ type dress.”
“It’s gorgeous.”
