“I think I’m good with this one,” I say, feeling a bit nervous and anxious. It’s obvious everything Marketta brought is expensive. I remember Suyen telling me how much Grant’s watch costs. Although he said his mom would pay, I feel a little awkward about asking her to spend hundreds of dollars for clothes and shoes when she’s already given me a purse and is letting me stay at her gorgeous home.
My distress must be apparent, because Marketta pats my back. “Don’t worry, dear. We’re going to make you look amazing.”
“Um, that’s not really—”
“But we can probably do better than the Dior. Let’s try that Givenchy, shall we?” she says, gesturing at her assistant.
I give up. This time, I’m escorted back into the dressing room with not just the turquoise outfit but shoes and lingerie. I guess this dress is also toodelicatefor my current underwear.
“Don’t worry. She’s going to make you look like a star,” one of the assistants says with a smile.
“Thanks.” I smile back reflexively.
Once they’re out, I change into everything Marketta picked out. The fabric is also lovely, and the shoes fit like a dream. Maybe this is why people wear expensive shoes. I feel like I could dance in them for hours.
Finger-combing my hair, I turn to the mirror, then cover my mouth, pressing my lips together hard, while I scream my head off inside. Oh myGod! I can’tbelievethis!
The dress shimmers like the warm Caribbean on a sunny day. It flows over my body like a wave. The skirt that reaches the middle of my thighs flares out, rendering an air of sophistication and sexiness. It lifts my breasts, giving me cleavage I didn’t know I had. No wonder Marketta called this the one with a nice bustline. The nude stilettos look fabulous, making my legs look longer without taking any attention away from the gorgeous dress. The green-blue color brings out my eyes, and my hair looks even fierier by contrast.
Holyshit. I’m so excited, my legs are shaking.
Taking a deep, calming breath, I step outside, ready for Marketta’s approval.
But her reaction fades away because Grant’s standing by her. He’s in a dove-gray shirt with a luxurious sheen over black slacks. He stares at me, his eyes wide. His mouth parts as he runs a hand along his jaw.
I can feel my cheeks heat. “What do you think?” I make a small turn.
“Oh my fuck,” he mutters.
“That bad?” I tease, absolutely loving his response.
“No. I… Jesus.” He drags his hand over his mouth. “You look perfect. Better than perfect.”
“She needs a necklace,” Marketta says.
Is there no end to this woman’s nitpicking?
“Yes, she does.” Grant puts his hand out and crooks a finger.
“Here.” Marketta points at a dark velvet tray that one of her assistants then brings over.
He picks up a stunning platinum and diamond key pendant and comes closer. Light shatters as it hits the gemstones. My heart pounds, and he goes around, standing behind me.
“Your hair,” he murmurs.
“Oh. Sorry.” I loop my hair around my hand and lift it up.
His warm breath fans over my neck. It gives me goosebumps as his fingers brush over my bare skin as he positions the cool necklace, and the key settles between my breasts. His hands linger a bit longer than necessary. My heart is racing like I just ran a marathon, and something hot and achy pools between my legs.
He comes around and looks down at me. “You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I seem to be drowning in his eyes. If it weren’t for all these people, I’d kiss him for making me feel so special.
“I brought you sweaters, too,” Marketta says, breaking the moment. “Not the frumpy kind, but nice ones. It’s supposed to be unseasonably cold tomorrow, and I didn’t know what you two packed for the trip.”
Grant’s eyes are still on mine. “Thanks, Marketta.”
“I’ll invoice you.” She laughs. “Now let’s get the rest of the things she needs, shall we?”
