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It is a plain black satin ribbon, but it has some kind of black gem on it. It works with my black dress, black shoes, and it makes me feel chic.

That is when I notice Lorenzo’s dark eyes on me. “What?” I ask. Lorenzo does not look excited. He looks worried. “What?” I ask confused.

Lorenzo shakes his head, and he mumbles something low.

Tallulah walks around me, then she returns with an elegant makeup kit. I am told to sit before she does something to my eyes.

It takes a while, but finally, she steps back happy. “Wallah!”

I stand close to the tall mirror, and suddenly, my look has popped. As if I’m now some sassy model-type from the seventies.

The smokey eyes and choker did it, but also the new hairstyle. My long plain hair is now layered, and shaped.

I flick my eyes to grumpy and he looks concerned. Screw him. I think I look great.

After thanking Tallulah and leaving, Lorenzo and I take a cab to Manhattan. We then walk past bars and clubs.

People are out clubbing, and several guys check me out. I laugh, feel free, excited, and hot. The only thing is, Lorenzo looks pissed.

Pissed, guys are checking me out.

As we walk through a hot part of Manhattan, we pass even more people out on the town. The clubs spew people out and the night is electric. I look over to Lorenzo, and I feel alive. “Well?”

“Well, what?” Lorenzo says.

“I get the feeling you don’t like me like this.”

We walk on in silence, and eventually Lorenzo speaks low. “I like you all ways.”

I don’t know what to say, but as we walk to his apartment building, something inside me glows, as if there is this…

Hope.

The next day,Lorenzo is up early, and he speaks from behind my closed door. I am told to get up and get ready fast. I check thetime and its only nine. Nine after a late night, and of all days, it’s Sunday.

After dragging myself up, I see my new hair in the bathroom, I get excited and quickly shower. Lorenzo tells me he is taking me shopping, and to some ultra cool stores he knows of.

“Can’t afford it,” I say.

“Can,” he says.

“How?”

“It’s your welcome gift to New York City. Think of me as an ambassador of New York.”

Fresh from the shower, I sip coffee. “Will I have to do anything weird, like…” I raise a brow.

Lorenzo growls and walks away. “No but if you’re slow, I will spank your hot arse!”

I grin, love the idea and I run to my room.

On the wayin the Bentley, Lorenzo explains some of the best fashion boutiques are around Maddison Avenue. I excitedly eat a croissant in his convertible, but I drop pastry flakes between my legs.

Lorenzo doesn’t look happy, and he almost crashes, as he watches me reach between my thighs. I find big pieces and eat them, then I start to do it playfully, as if I am tasting myself.

“Stop it,” he commands.

“Or?” I ask playfully. “Spanking?”