“You’re not just my employee either,” he retorts, still looking at the darn screen.
“Fine. We’re dating. Happy?”
“If you say so,” he returns passively.
“Were you hit in the head in the last few minutes? How did you go from a work relationship to matrimony? We’re not?—”
He finally looks up from his phone; his expression is that of someone who is dealing with a petulant child. “You didn’t want to define what we are, so I did it for you.”
He’s lost his mind.
“I must’ve missed the part where I said, ‘I do.’”
“Don’t worry, we’ll get to that,” he says as if he’s already picked out a color scheme for wedding invitations.
I’ll admit, I’m content with Rory, Luke, and yes, even Hunter. I know I’m safe when I’m with them. I’m admired and treated like a person. They make me feel like I can be myself.
Mostly…
Some secrets are best left living in the dark.
But I’ve never been in a relationship that lasted longer than a few weeks. Besides, when John finds out what I’ve done withthese three men, he’ll make hellfire and brimstone look like child’s play.
“Here are a few casual outfits, including a selection of shoes,” Sabrina interrupts my deep thoughts as she pushes aside the thick velvet curtain, leading me into the dressing room.
A mischievous devil whispers a petty idea into my ear as I follow Sabrina. Running my hand over a white silk top, I look over the items she’s brought. “I’m going to need jewelry and purses to go with my new outfits as well.”
Hunter wants to play? Fine. Let’s play.
When Sabrina doesn’t respond, I glance in the mirror, finding her reflection behind me. Her eyes run up and down my frame; her distaste is evident.
I’m tired of people looking at me like I’m less than. I’m tired of being judged for who my father is and the choiceshemade. I’m tired of having to swallow snide comment after snide comment.
Crossing my arms, I spin to face her and lean on one hip. “Is that going to be a problem or do I need to find someone else who will be able to do the job?”
Sabrina blinks rapidly, shaking her head. “No, not at all. I can do it.” She turns on her heel and scurries out, closing the curtain behind her.
What feels like hours later, I think I’ve tried on almost every item in the store—everything from twill pleated pants to an A-line evening gown.
And I didn’t let Hunter see a single thing. Although I’m sure he’s gotten an eyeful of that huge mound that is my new wardrobe—a wardrobe that I’m not sure I’ll ever use.
When am I ever going to need crystal-studded Italian pumps or a silver satin clutch?
As I slip into a spaghetti strap black cocktail dress, Hunter’s voice startles me. “I have to step away to make a quick call. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” I acknowledge. When he doesn’t reply, I assume he’s gone, and I turn to examine myself in the mirror.
I’m not sure I like it, but the goal is to rack up as big of a bill as possible so into the yes pile it will go.
“Leave it to Hunter Reed to bring in a gold digger from the gutter.” The voice sounds too quiet to be right outside the room, but nevertheless, the obnoxious comment hits me in the gut.
I tiptoe to the curtain, keeping my feet out of sight, and pull back the material a hair. Just enough to see who is out there.
“Shh. Someone might hear you.”
“No one will hear. He stepped out of the store, engrossed in a conversation on his phone, and his trash is in the dressing room.”
Sabrina and another woman stand a few feet away, looking through a rack of sweaters. The second woman’s eyes dart around like she’s on the lookout for danger or an eavesdropper.
