Page 68 of In Deep
We’re on our way to the shops when my phone buzzes. Sophia rolls her eyes, but I answer it anyway when I see it’s Zane.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hey, what you up to? Ollie said you escaped his clutches.”
“I’m spending the day with Sophia.”
“And you’re not stealing her away from me!” Sophia yells towards my phone. “She’s all mine today.”
“And what are you ladies going to get up to?”
“We’re going shopping.”
“To buy Rosie a dress,” Sophia adds.
“You want me to buy it for you?” Zane asks immediately.
“I have my own money. I can buy my own dress.”
“No, she doesn’t. No, she can’t,” Sophia calls out.
Zane chuckles on the other end of the phone. “Let me buy you a dress, sugar. You know I like buying you things.”
“You really shouldn’t keep buying me things.”
“Yes, you should!” Sophia pipes up.
“See,” Zane says, “Sophia agrees. That’s sorted, I’m paying. But you have to send me photos of the dresses you try on.”
“I get to pick my own dress,” I tell him.
He chuckles again. “I know. I just want to see.” His voice drops a tone lower. “You’ve never sent me a selfie.”
My stomach swoops. “I guess I’ll have to change that.”
Sophia grins beside me when I hang up. “Oh goodie, our budget just increased. I can take you to this gorgeous little boutique I know of.”
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Don’t be silly.” She hooks her arm through mine and drags me along.
The boutique is indeed gorgeous, tucked away down a backstreet with all the other expensive shops I’ve never visited. A bell chimes as we enter the shop, and it’s like walking into another world – one with sparkling jewellery and expertly cut creations. I can’t help letting out a little gasp and Sophia nudges me in the ribs.
“This looks far too expensive,” I hiss at her.
“Your boyfriend can afford it! When we get back to my room, we’re going to google your guys’ families, and then you can see just how much money these alphas have.”
I gulp. I know in Sophia’s book that’s meant to make me feel excited or reassured. But it’s freaking intimidating. I look down at my skirt and top. Both are items I picked up in the clothing section of the supermarket. If Sophia wasn’t standing beside me, looking glamorous as always, I’m pretty sure I’d be thrown out of a shop like this.
Sophia grabs my hand and tugs me over to a display of cocktail dresses. They’re made of real satin and the bodices are encrusted with small gems.
We’ve only just started to rifle through the dresses when an older man with short, bleached-blonde hair and large, tomato-red glasses strolls up to greet us.
“Hello, ladies,” he says, clearly addressing Sophia. He can probably smell that she is the one with money. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, please,” Sophia says, holding up a dress and examining it. “We’re going to a sophisticated cocktail party tonight and my friend needs a dress to wear.”
“Aren’t you getting a dress too?” I say, with a note of desperation in my throat.
