Page 83 of The Billionaires' Gamble
Shon’s standing in front of the mirror, pajama pants hiked to her knees as she models a pair of sling-backs. Alex must have sent over all the bags and boxes while I was with King, as they’re currently littering the floor.
“Girl, they’ve got it so bad for you.” She pivots toward me but looks back at the mirror, admiring the shoes.
She’s not wrong. The kitten heels are sleek and sexy without trying too hard. And she’s right about King and Alex, too. The feeling is so mutual.
“Sorry. I was putting your goodies away and had to try these.”
“Take them with you. I won’t be going into the office for a while.” Though I have the unsettling feeling that I’m going to be visiting with a lot of lawyers in the foreseeable future.
She gives me a one-armed hug, puts the shoes back in their box, and then busies herself putting everything else away. I don’t bother telling her that my father has people to do that. Just like I don’t bother to offer to do it myself. Shon’s a bit of a fashionista, so it’s a good thing that we only share a shoe size.
From the moment we met, she has loved unpacking after our shopping trips. I think she’s having some sort ofPrincess Diariesfantasy at the moment. And honestly, who hasn’t lusted over Princess Mia’s closet?
“Okay. Into the shower I go.” When I find a giant bottle of super-nourishing conditioner, I make a mental note to give Alex his own morning wake-up call tomorrow.
My movements are quick because I’m starving. And that coffee will only take me so far. With my hair up in a towel and a fluffy robe tied at the waist, I slather on more moisturizer.
Back in the bedroom, Shon’s making a beeline for the closet with a pair of slacks. “How long are you planning on staying out here for?”
I blow out a sigh. “I don’t have the first clue. It’s my first kidnapping.”
Despite her best effort, she huffs out a laugh. “Girl?—”
“Honestly, I’m still going with thelaugh so I won’t crymethod.”
This earns me another hug. But, as if sensing that tears are closer than I would like, she scoots away and unpacks another bag.
“When did they have time to do this?” She fluffs a skirt and reaches for a hanger.
“Middle of the night, I guess. Knowing Alex, he probably didn’t sleep.”
At some point, he’s going to have to stop worrying about everyone else and let us take care of him.
“King definitely slept,” I add.
“You mean after he came over here and woke us up?”
I huff a laugh. “Yeah. You got him good. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“Maybe I should apply as your bodyguard.”
I laugh again. “Maybe you should.”
As soon as the words leave my lips, I remember Roman. How could I forget? Hot shame floods through me, and I look around for my phone, only to remember I never got it back.
“Where’s your phone?” I ask, doing what I can to dry my hair with the towel.
“What’s going on?”
“Roman. I need an update.”
As if understanding my urgency, she meets me at the bathroom door with an outfit. Capris and a chic tunic. “Here. We’ll go find Alex. My phone’s not going to do us any good. I only have Ford and King’s number.”
She’s right, of course.
I hope the man who shot Roman rots in jail and rats eat his toes. Okay, that’s rude to rats. Their little feet are actually kind of cute, as I’ve discovered thanks to King’s late-night doom-scrolling sessions.
“You’re the best,” I agree, dressing like I’m in a race. It feels like I am. Between the anger and shame, my heart is going wild in my chest.
