Page 60 of Ruin Me With Lies
Oscar shifts into drive.“Sure, boss.”
Stefano spends the entire drive texting, ignoring me completely.
Twenty minutes later, we pull up to the alley entrance of a nondescript two-story building.
Without a word, Stefano gets out of the vehicle, buttons his jacket, and watches me expectantly.
Oh.The meeting’s here?I assumed this was just a quick stop.
When I’m out of the vehicle, Stefano prods me toward the metal door, as though I’m moving too slow for his liking.He punches in a code on the security panel, pulls the door open, then stares at me.
I stare right back.If he wants to be miserable, two can play that game.
But instead of gritting out insults at me like I expect, he surprises me by grasping my hand and pulling me through the door with him.
Heat shoots up my arm from his touch, subtle but impossible to ignore.I try to focus instead on keeping up with his pace as he leads me down a narrow hall.
The space opens into a cool, air-conditioned parlor, the air thick with the scent of peaches and strawberries.Overhead, sleek light fixtures cast a golden glow over mannequins, jewelry displays, and racks of high-end clothing.
A private boutique.
I flex my fingers in his hold.“I thought we were going to a meeting.”
“We were,” he confirms.“Until you showed up dressed like a grieving widow on a teacher’s salary.”
“Are you serious right—”
“Mr.Castello!”A gracefully svelte, middle-aged woman appears, greeting him with a kiss on both cheeks.“Always a delight to see this handsome face.”
“We’re on a time crunch, Wendy,” he says.“Do what you can.”
Before I can ask questions, Wendy pries my hand from Stefano’s and hurries me off.I glance back to protest, but Stefano’s already turned away, phone to his ear.
“Okay, I estimated your size from the photo Mr.Castello sent,” Wendy says as she ushers me into a mirrored fitting area.“I pulled a few options based on your body type.Let’s see which one’s the winner, shall we?”
Thatassof a man.He really did take a picture of me.Unbelievable.
Annoyance prickles under my skin, but I bite my tongue and cooperate.Wendy is just doing her job.It wouldn’t be fair to inflict that temperamental brute of a man on her.
I let her fuss over me, slipping me into outfit after outfit as she mutters anxiously about howpickyStefano is.
In the end, we settle on an ivory double-breasted blazer dress that flares just below my knees, cinched at the waist with a D&G belt that compliments the gold buttons.Simple gold slingback heels, and a delicate gold necklace with an emerald stone to “bring out the green” in my eyes.My black clutch swapped for an ivory-and-gold YSL purse.
Although I come from money, high-end fashion has never interested me.I’ve always favored cotton and denim, comfort and practicality over couture.
But staring at my reflection right now, I look…important.Like someone who belongs in these circles.Exactly how Mom would want me to look.
I look likeher.
“You have beautiful hair, full and healthy,” Wendy murmurs, running her fingers through my air-dried waves.“The braids don’t quite go with the outfit, but there’s no time, so we’ll have to make it work.”
She leads me to a mini salon setup, where two assistants get to work, smoothing my hair and refining my look with light makeup and a neat coiffure that blends seamlessly with the braids.
Eighteen minutes later, I’m escorted back to the front lounge.
Stefano is sprawled on a red boutique sofa, swiping across his phone.At our approach, he glances up, and something flickers across his face before his expression smooths into indifference.
He stands, buttons his jacket, and gives me a slow, assessing once-over.
