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Earlier, that lunch was a source of anxiety but I’m so desperate to get out of here, it’s become my safety net.
He glances at his watch.
“Oh yeah. And you still need shoes.”
“I don’t—”
“Would you very much mind if Sarah got changed in here?” Marius asks Pauline, handing over his shiny credit card. “We have lunch in half an hour, and no time to get home.”
“Certainly!”
Given the fortune he just dropped in her store, I’m fairly certain she would have bent over the counter if he asked.
Scratch that, it’s Marius we’re talking about. She would have done it just because he’s pretty.
As she rings him up, he rifles through the bags, and hands me some of the carefully folded items he picked for me.
“You’re so fucking controlling,” I mutter.
But as I get changed, I wonder if it’s actually true.
Today, Marius seemed to be having a lot of fun. I think he just…likes shopping. Buying things for me. Aren’t guys supposed to hate it?
If this was a real relationship, there’s no denying that he would be the most perfect boyfriend ever.
Well, kinky sex aside.
Though to be entirely honest, the kinky sex makes him even better.
68
MARIUS
Ican’t keep staring at Sarah ever since she came out ofMinionette’s changing rooms twenty minutes ago.
Jesus fucking Christ, why do I do this to myself?
I know why. That woman is gorgeous, but her confidence has taken a hell of a beating; she feels safer when she hides, preferably under her rags.
She’s definitely not hiding anymore.
She wears soft leather pants, with a loose-fitting white top that hangs off one of her shoulders, and she looks right out of a magazine. Or maybe the first shot of a porn movie before they start pulling their clothes off. Damn, she’s so fucking gorgeous. I’m tempted to drag her to the closest closet and drag those pants off her.
“Over here!” my grandmother calls, waving from a table near the window of the fashionable restaurant.
“That’syour grandma?” Sarah whispers as we approach.
I certainly understand why she’s surprised. A pint-size gorgeous woman with a silver-blue bob, she wears heavy eye makeup, big ear hoops, heeled ankle boots and a form-fitting dress.
She’ll look completely different next week. She always dresses according to her moods.
“Thanks for making me change,” Sarah mumbles.
I grin. Liliya is intimidatingly well put together, even when she goes grunge, pop-rock, or whatever she’d call her current style.
“Mamie,” I say, kissing her cheek.
“Darling!”
