Page 66 of Nailing the Billionaire

I told them the truth. “Work’s been pretty hectic on the days I don’t have to take Billy to school.”

Martha twisted her cup. “Did you get a good raise?”

I nodded. “Sure did.”

Martha smirked. “And did you hold out for more?”

“Yes, and it worked.”

Martha nudged Mona. “I told you he was a good man.”

Mona protested, “I never said he wasn’t.”

Martha lifted her cup. “Did my prediction come true yet?”

A blush rose in my face. I wasn’t about to tell them everything. “Actually, yes. We did have lunch together, if Saint Helena’s counts.”

Mona cocked her head. “Mr. Moneybags couldn’t splurge and buy you a meal himself?”

I smiled as I recalled my surprise as well. “That’s not it. He was serving. Well, that and he supplied the chickens. I helped.” I took a bite of my breakfast sandwich.

Martha looked back to me. “That’s a good start. What’s next? Dinner?”

I should have been prepared for the twenty questions. I hadn’t seen them since the kiss. “He’s taking me to a museum fundraiser.” I followed it up with another bite.

Martha smiled.

Mona’s mouth dropped open “That’s pretty highbrow, like going to the MET in New York. What have you picked to wear?”

I was still chewing. Like an idiot, I hadn’t considered the question until she asked it. “I dunno,” I mumbled.

Martha added to the bad news. “That’s a do-your-hair, mani-pedi kind of event, not something you just dash some lipstick on for.”

I was way behind the power curve in getting ready for this. But I wouldn’t give Melissa the pleasure of seeing me looking like the poor girl I was, as if I’d just moved out of a double-wide.

“I’ll have to work on that.”

Martha reached over to touch my arm. “You’ll do just fine. Let us know if you need any advice. Mona here used to go to that.”

She perked up. “My Harold took me. The highlight of my year.”

This was sounding more and more ominous. I took one last bite of my breakfast and stood. “I gotta get to work.”

We exchanged goodbyes, and outside, I turned toward work with more questions about this weekend than answers.

Upstairs, I made it to my office and a search of the internet came back with terrifying news: dozens of images of ladies that looked like they were dressed for the red carpet.

I’d thought this would be a simple dinner at a hotel ballroom, eating rubber chicken with men in suits and women in nice dresses, not men in tuxes and ladies in gowns.

Now I was totally screwed. There was no way anything in my wardrobe qualified as nice enough for this event. My best dress looked like it came from Goodwill compared to the pictures here.

I’d have to tell Ramona we were putting off the apartment search for a month or so. Buying something for this would use up the money I’d been saving for our first, last, and security deposit on the new place.

It was either that or tell Dennis I couldn’t go, after all.

I’d been a complete idiot to agree to the invitation without thinking through the ramifications. But it had been too tempting to refuse, and now I was trapped. I didn’t even know where to shop for something like this.

Chapter 18

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