Playboy Nathan West Spends Day on the Water with His Hot New Girl. Sources Say Things Got Spicy! How Long Until the Villain Ruins Everything?
“You know what?” I murmur as I delete the message. “I’m in too good a mood to care about Fallon fucking Mae.”
I bump to a stop in front of Mina’s apartment a few minutes early. She’s sitting on the top step of the porch and stands when she sees me. Her hair is down, the ends lifting off her chest in the evening breeze. Her eyes find mine like a thunderclap. I’m out of the car and pulling her to me before I know what’s happening. My hands slide up her back and into that midnight hair as I press her luscious body to mine and kiss her deeply. Her lips part and she tastes of strawberry and smells of citrus and feels like fucking heaven.
“I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day,” I whisper, then kiss her again. I’m giddy with the thought of spoiling her. She’s lived her whole life never quite having enough and tonight, I’m changing that. She’ll have everything she could possibly want.
Our first stop is Blush. My aunt said the clothing is expensive but worth it and that’s enough for me.
Mina gawks at the storefront as we near the entrance. “I can’t go in there.”
“Of course you can.”
She steps back, like she’s thinking of running. “I’ll set off the ‘you’re too poor to be here’ alarm.”
“Oh, wow. I didn’t even think about that. Thank goodness you remembered that’s a thing because, oh wait, it isn’t.” A car rumbles by on the street behind us, filled with teenagers laughing, music loud, energy high. The world is theirs for the taking. I remember feeling that way. With Mina here, I still feel that way.
“Go ahead,” she says, pressing a hand to my chest. “Laugh it up. You’ve clearly never been judged by how you look and what you wear.”
I almost laugh in her face but choke it back. My entire life, people have judged my clothes, my parents, my privilege and wondered how they could use me to their advantage. For Mina, when a stranger judges her on the street, she’s just a nameless face, quickly forgotten. Me? I have people like Fallon Mae pointing out all my flaws—both real and imagined—with my name, my face, my business, my family attached. The damage is real and lasting. The stakes are higher.
One look at Mina’s face says she’s not in the mood for truth like that.
“You don’t have to worry about money,” I say, brushing a lock of ebony hair out of her face.
“I wish that were true.” Brows furrowed. Lip caught between teeth. Deep sigh.
“I’m sorry. I meant to say you don’t have to worry about money tonight.”
Before Mina can argue, I press my palm to the flat of her back and open the door. She smiles up at me as she passes and that’s it. I’m done for. I’d do anything to have her look at me like that every hour of every day.
The walls are adorned with soft blush tones, accented by touches of gold and silver, casting an inviting glow throughout the space. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, sending shimmering reflections dancing across Mina’s awed face. Plush velvet curtains frame the large display windows, and a musician plays classical guitar in a corner. His eyes are closed, enraptured with his own music and I take a moment to join him. A salesclerk approaches. Dressed in black. Hair slicked back. Her makeup is expensive yet polished. Her look designed to be a blank canvas. One that allows the customer to imagine her to be whoever she wants.
“You must be Mr. West and Miss Blake. Your aunt told me to expect you and has filled me in on your needs. I’ve pulled several dresses that might interest you, though you’re free to look around at our other options. Help yourself to the coffee bar over there, or would you prefer a glass of champagne?”
Mina gapes at me, unused to luxury shopping experiences. I tell the clerk we’d like to start with champagne, then ask to see the dresses she set aside.
“Of course, Mr. West. Right this way.” She leads us to a private room, with subtle lighting and plush armchairs. A rack of dresses sits in the middle near a dais placed in front of elegant full-length mirrors.
“There’s a changing room there,” says our sales clerk, pointing to a closed door in the back. “My name is Nora and I’ll return shortly with your champagne.”
As soon as the door clicks shut, Mina turns to me, jaw dropped, eyes wide. “This is too much, Nathan. Private rooms? Personal shoppers? I can think of a hundred better ways to spend this money.”
“I don’t want you to think about the money at all.”
“How can I not?”
She’s panicking and I don’t understand it. I have money I want to spend on her. Why is that a problem? I lower myself into one of the armchairs and drape my ankle over my knee. “Because you’re going to try on the dresses Nora picked for you and leave the money worries to me.”
“Nathan…”
I love the way she says my name. I want to make her scream it.
Nora arrives with two glasses of champagne, hands them to each of us, then leaves without a word. People who sell luxury know how to read the room.
Mina raises the glass to her lips, her eyes locked on mine. “Okay then,” she says after she swallows. “If his royal highness insists.”
“He insists.”
She pulls a dress off the rack and presses it to her body, swinging her hips back and forth to make the skirt sway.
“Like that one?”
She checks the price tag and her face blanches. “Not that much,” she says, hanging the dress back on the rack without a second glance.
Mina flips through the dresses, eyeing them appreciatively until she comes to one the color of champagne. She holds it to her body, eyeing her reflection almost reverently, then reaches for the tag.
“No more looking at prices,” I say, arching a brow.
She meets my eyes through the mirror, takes a deep breath, then drops the tag. “That’s a deeply ingrained habit, but I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I can ask,” I reply with a smile. “How about that one? Like it?”
“It’s so pretty,” Mina gushes, “but I don’t think I can pull it off.”
“There’s only one way to find out.” I point to the door in the back of the room and Mina disappears inside.
