I nodded, and she let herself out. I peeled the dress off and laid it on the leather upholstered bench next to my purple dress Muriel had laundered and ironed for me even though I hadn’tasked.
I wiggled into a tight black chiffon number with long see-through sleeves and tiny hook closures that fastened up the front. Before even stepping out, I knew Jarod would like it. A glimpse at the price tag made me grimace. I was tempted to pretend it didn’t fit, but knowing Muriel’s hawkish perspicacity, she would see right through mylie.
My lie, which would surely cost me afeather.
Tristan joined us at the register and paid in cash, handing over so many pink and purple bills guilt bubbled inside me anew. The two bodyguards Jarod had appointed to me for the day scooped up the shiny black shopping bags even though it seemed counterintuitive considering they’d been sent to protect me, not to carry around bags. But I’d learned after the first boutique that it was useless to insist on carrying my ownpurchases.
The store guard unlocked the doors, which he’d sealed shut during our shopping—every establishment had done the same. Even though it was to offer me privacy, it never ceased to make me feel uncomfortable when salesclerks escorted straggling customers out of the boutique so I could roam aroundundisturbed.
As Jarod’s bodyguards loaded the trunk of the black sedan in which they’d followed us, Muriel and Tristan walked me to the nextstore.
“I think I bought enough,” Isaid.
While I’d tried on clothes, Muriel had picked shoes and costume jewelry to match eachoutfit.
Tristan snorted. “Jarod told me you’d say that. He also told me to spendallthe cash he gave me, and you’ve barely put a dent intoit.”
My eyelashes hit my browbone. I hadn’t tallied up every price tag, but I was pretty certain we’d spent close to thirty grand, which wasinsane.
Completelyinsane.
“Fine, but this is the last store, okay?” Imumbled.
Tristan opened the glass doors, then grabbed a saleslady and ordered her to clear the boutique. I feigned great interest in the pyramid-studded bag collection as disgruntled customers were funneled onto thestreet.
Muriel plucked a small red shoulder bag from the shelf. “We’ll take one in each size. Which colors would you like,machérie?”
“Youchoose.”
She picked out the colors and requested shoes to match. “Now, ontoclothes.”
As we started down one aisle, another saleslady made her way to us, tucking a black shirt into a black pencil skirt as though she’d just gotten into work. “This is such an honor,” she gushed, pushing a strand of brown hair behind her ear. A diamond solitaire, bigger than my thumbnail, glimmered on her ring finger. When I didn’t say anything, she added, “To servel’amieof JarodAdler.”
Muriel pushed a hanger with a sky-blue twinset into the girl’sarms.
A small“Oomph”flew through her parted lips as she clutched the outfit. “I’ll get a dressing room going.” She swiveled on boots that must’ve come from the store considering how fancy they were, embellished with the same pyramid-like rivets as thebags.
As Muriel pulled out almost every hanger on the first rack, I gazed out the store windows. One of the bodyguards had stayed outside and was corralling passersby. I was almost surprised no paparazzi had arrived or angry archangels for thatmatter.
I’d take paparazzi over Asher any day,though.
If Asher caught me shopping at the mob’s expense, he’d probably physically remove me from Paris. As I looked away from the store front, I saw Tristan standing close to the dressing room the salesgirl was getting ready for me. Still sucking on his toothpick, he now toyed with the button on his jacket. The man either had a serious nicotine addiction or was bored out of his mind. Maybe a combination ofboth.
As the girl walked past him, she glanced his way. Tristan, though, pretended like she didn’t even exist. Was it because of the engagement ring gracing her finger? He hadn’t struck me as a man of many—orany—scruples. Perhaps, her willowy frame and thick brown hair just didn’t do it forhim.
“Leigh?” Muriel touched my arm. “What do you think of this skirt?” She extended a long, flowy number the same peacock-blue as the brunette’seyes.
“It’s verypretty.”
“Why don’t you start trying things on? I’ll keep looking for you.” Muriel passed the hanger over to the saleslady, who stared me up and down as though sizing meup.
And not in the way of a seamstress, but in the way of someone evaluating hercompetition.
Was she envious that I wasl’amieof Jarod Adler? The fact that she even knew I was his girlfriend was surprising. The only time Jarod and I had been together outside the walls of his home was at Layla’s. Had we been photographedthere?
I obediently trailed her into the changing room that shut with a heavy length of cloud-gray velvet. Once she’d exited, I undid the leather belt, the roots of my hair warming at the memory of the other use Jarod had found for it yesterday. I laid it down on the bench sculpted from the same smoky wood as the walls of the cabin, then yanked off my dress, and let it pool next to the belt. I tried on the eggshell camisole overstitched with strips of matching lace, pairing it with the blue skirt, then strode out to get Muriel’sopinion.
As soon as she saw me, she bustled over, arms laden with yards of gauzy fabric. “Magnifique.”
