Is this how rich people live? “I’d love some water, thanks.”
“Sure thing!”
I feel like I’ve stepped into a completely different world when she returns bearing a tray with a bottle of sparkling water and a glass. She opens the bottle and pours it for me.
“Would you like a slice of lemon?” She points to a dish on the tray.
“No, but thank you.”
“Your fitting room is ready.” The male sales assistant gestures me forward. “I’m Max. If you need help with fittings, Kelsey can assist you, but if you’d like another size or style, you can ask for me.”
“Thanks, Max.” Clutching my glass of sparkling water, I step into my dressing room. It’s huge—almost as big as my bedroom in my last apartment. A low chaise takes up most of one wall, the fabric a stylish black suede. Several hooks line the walls, each one bearing a different bra and panty set.
I start with slipping off my clothes and bra. I try the cherry-patterned underwear on over my own pair. They fit great, but look really weird covering up mine, so I take them off again.
The bra is surprisingly comfortable. I love the red trim, which isn’t actually lace, but some kind of soft fabric. It isn’t itchy at all, like I’d feared. I admire myself in the mirror, turning this way and that, appreciating how the cups push up my boobs.
Coming from the front of the store, a low voice reaches my ears. It isn’t Max talking.
I press my ear to the door to hear better.
The man says, “Everything in that room with her, put it on this card. I will purchase it all.”
I know that voice, that soothing accent.
What is Damiano doing here?
10
MADISON
I keep my ear pressed to the door, hoping for more clues as to why Damiano is in the store. He must know I’m here, and he followed me. But why?
Anyone else, I’d worry that I’m being tracked somehow. But with Damiano, it isn’t a concern. I trust him that thoroughly. Which means there’s a perfectly good explanation for him showing up.
Damiano continues in his stern, intense way, “We’d like some privacy to talk for the next few minutes.”
“Of course, sir. For safety reasons, I’ll need to check with the customer first, before I allow you back.” Max sounds a lot braver than I would be if I were faced with Damiano in this intense kind of mood.
“I’d think less of you if you didn’t confirm with the lady in question.”
I step back from the door when Max knocks on it and says, “Miss, there’s a man here. Damiano Romano. I can tell him you already slipped out the back if you don’t want to see him.”
“No, he’s my boyfriend. It’s okay.”
“If you’re sure?” he asks.
It’s sweet that he’s checking. “Thank you, I’m sure.”
“All right.” His footsteps recede.
I don’t have time to take off the cherry-patterned bra, but I quickly put on my jeans and sweater. I don’t know why—Damiano has seen me completely naked. But something about him showing up here unexpectedly puts me on guard.
He knocks at the fitting room door. “Bella? May I come in?”
“Hi, yes, sure.” Still feeling flustered, I unlock the door.
He towers before me, looking taller for some reason. His dark brown eyes travel up and down my body.
