Page 301 of Tormented Billionaire Romance Series

“I’m sorry,” I interrupt, “but do you have anything a little, I don’t know, less expensive?”

I’m not going to pretend like I’m above enjoying some of the finer things dating Zach has to offer, but the necklace costs almost four months’ rent, and this is the first of who-knows-how-many stops today.

“Of course, Miss,” Clarence says. He glances behind me a moment, nods and then sets the box containing the necklace in the center of the middle area.

“You can put it back,” I say. “I love it, but I do think it’s a bit more than I can justify.”

“Of course, Miss,” Clarence says. “We like to set all our pieces there before returning them to the display. It’s to check for quality.”

To check for quality? What does that even mean?

Oh well, I can’t be expected to learn how this world works when I’ve only been in here five minutes.

“Maybe something like this would be more to your liking,” he says.

It’s another gorgeous necklace, but I can see the price. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “That’s still a bit too expensive for me.”

He shows me piece after piece, and not only necklaces and pendants. I spend over an hour walking back and forth, from counter to counter, looking at rings and earrings, bracelets and even a couple brooches; though I don’t know when I’d ever wear a brooch.

I adore everything he shows me, but he doesn’t seem to understand when I tell him the price needs to go down, not up.

Finally, I manage to get through to Clarence well enough that he shows me a tasteful, sterling silver, Elsa Peretti necklace with diamonds for six hundred and fifty. It’s still more than I had in mind, but at least I finally got Clarence under a thousand.

He insists I wear the necklace out of the store, saying, “I’ll be sure to put this all on Mr. Scipio’s account for you. You are all taken care of.”

“Thanks,” I tell him. “I hope I wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Oh, not at all,” Clarence says. “It has been a pleasure.” He glances behind me again and this time, I turn around just in time to see Marc brushing the side of his nose with his index finger. He sees me and tries to pass it off like he was just scratching his nose, but I get the feeling that’s not all he was doing.

I have to say I feel pretty amazing walking out of the store with this beautiful necklace. What’s better is now I can call Naomi and tell her I have a Tiffany pendant, too. She, of course, won hers in a sweepstakes.

We get back to the car, and we’re off again. Over the next few hours, we stop at Bergdorf Goodman, Armani Fifth Avenue, and about half a dozen other places I never thought I’d see from the inside.

I never leave with much, but I’ve racked up almost three thousand in clothes and jewelry so far. Every time I get back in the car, I send Zach a message, telling him what I got and how much it costs. I know he planned this whole thing, but I don’t want to cruise past any limit he may have.

By the time we’re on our way to the final stop of the day, a little boutique where Marc’s sister-in-law works, I’m not sure I can spend any more. We go into the shop, and I buy a couple of shirts and a pair of pants for about two-hundred, but as Marc’s sister-in-law, Betty, is ringing me up, Anthony touches me on the shoulder.

“It looks like a crowd is gathering out front,” he says. “There’s no rear exit, so we’re going to have to walk through them. Don’t worry, though,” he says. “We’ve got you covered.”

I look out the front window of the shop to find the sidewalk packed. It would be bad enough if they were just random strangers, but I can’t help noticing a lot of cameras out there.

“I don’t suppose there’s any way I can get out of here without my picture taken, is there?” I ask.

“You can borrow my jacket if you’d like to cover your face,” Marc says, “but I don’t think that’d be such a good idea.”

“Why’s that?” I ask.

“Looks too much like a perp walk,” Anthony says.

I start shaking. This isn’t what I wanted. I knew there was a chance my relationship with Zach would get out, but I didn’t expect it to be like this.

“Why’s this only happening now?” I ask.

“Someone must have tipped off the press,” Marc says. “I don’t mean to be rude, Miss, but we should probably get you out of here. People are going to start asking you questions, but either don’t answer at all or just say, ‘no comment,’” he instructs me.

“How do we do this?” I ask.

“Just follow my lead and stay close,” Anthony says.

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