Page 91 of Dark Wolf Soul
“I guess.” I slide my hand away, tucking it beneath the fabric of my pants.
Her eyes narrow as we pull away from the curb. “Trouble in paradise already?”
I cut her a look. “What paradise?”
“Touché,” she says with a wry smile. “Indigo Hills is no destination retreat, I’ll give you that, but you haven’t seen our shopping district yet, either.”
“I’m not much of a shopper,” I admit.
She stares at me with a look of pure horror. “What blasphemy is this?”
I shake my head. “I guess it’s just not my thing.”
She pats my arm like she’s trying to comfort me. “Don’t worry, there’s still time to fix you.”
I can’t help but laugh.
Ten minutes later, we’re pulling up to the curb in front of a plaza that hosts several high-end boutiques whose names I can hardly pronounce. The area between them all is paved with a fountain in the center that is surrounded by benches and landscaped plants.
“Come on,” Mia says. “We’ll start with Les Haut and go from there.”
The moment we’re out of the car, she’s full steam ahead, leading me across the plaza like a woman on a mission.
For the next hour, I’m whisked into and out of at least six different shops, each one more expensive than the last. Mia’s version of shopping is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. In the past, I’d always been very aware of what little money I have to spend and only chose places with cheap prices or huge sales. Since money was always limited, I never shopped in more than a couple of stores at a time. But I quickly learn that with Mia, shopping is a sport, and it’s all about endurance.
Eventually, I must look exhausted enough for her to show me mercy, and we end up in a café eating Greek salads and sipping white wine.
“My feet are killing me,” I groan.
“But they’re going to look fantastic,” she points out.
“True,” I admit.
The black strappy heels she paired with the dress I chose at our last stop make a stunning combination. Even I can admit I look hot.
“Now we just have to figure out your hair,” she says. “I can call in a favor at my salon. Alejandro would love to get his hands on your head and do a chop—”
“Hold it right there. I am not chopping anything.”
“Okay, okay.” She picks up her wine. “A blow-out then.”
“I guess I could try that,” I concede.
She stares at me. “Try it? As in, you’ve never had one?”
I shrug. “Other than my friend Violet dressing me up for work, no.”
Her shock melts into interest. “You really are nothing like the pampered princess they say, are you?”
I snort. “Pampered is not a word you would use if you saw my life.”
“What was it like?” she asks.
I stare at her in surprise. “You really want to know?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“No one else has asked me that yet.”
