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“Okay, I’ll call you once I’ve spoken to the lovely costume designer and get a date for an idea session.”

“You with money is so much more elaborate, and you were pretty high maintenance before.”

“Fuck you very much. I’m fabulous.”

She hung up, the ring of her laughter still in my ear as my phone rang again and startled me. It was Noah’s face smiling at me when I looked at the screen this time.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, the hum of his engine making the background drone on in the silence that followed.

“Hey, handsome. How are the meetings going?”

“It’s been one after another all damn day. Where are you?”

“Rodeo Drive, window shopping.”

“Perfect. You still have that card I gave you?”

I grumbled my affirmative. I’d made it more than clear how much I hated carrying that thing around in my wallet. Even after Noah had explained that it was for when he asked me to pick something up for him, it still felt awkward that I had it. His quiet laugh down the line told me he’d heard my response.

“Get yourself a dress, baby. We’re going to a party in San Diego tomorrow night.”

“San Diego?”

“Yeah, it’s a house party. Friend of a friend of someone, but one of the producers will be there and asked me to stop by and make an appearance.”

“I can buy myself a dress, Noah.”

“No, babe. I want you to get yourself that one you saw in the window while we were together. That deep green number. You know the one.”

“You mean the one that costs enough to feed a third-world country for a week?”

“Yes, but I know the designer, and she’s a philanthropist. Your purchase will go toward some good for the world, I promise.”

“Noah.”

“Amber, you’re the only one that could pull that dress off, anyway. You’re doing the world a favor. Do it for me.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. It’s that, or I do it over the phone and risk getting the wrong size.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Buy my gorgeous girlfriend a dress that can’t possibly equal her beauty? You bet your ass I can.”

“Don’t charm me into submission.”

“You love it.”

“I love you.”

The line went quiet for a moment, and I froze, thinking I’d said the wrong thing.

“I love you, too, Strawberry. Buy the fucking dress. You deserve it.”

“Thank you.”

“I can say with my hand on my heart that it’s my distinct pleasure, babe. I’ll see you tonight. If I get dragged to another alcohol-infused meeting, I’ll call you before the alcohol, and I’ll try not to wake you up by accidentally sticking my dick in your ass or something equally as ludicrous.”

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