Page 62 of Billionaire Romance

Eric takes my hand and guides me along, giving me a conspiratorial smile. The situation that he walked into isn’t lost on him. It’s my own Pretty Woman moment, minus being a hooker I guess. “I really can’t believe that I’m here.”

“Why not?”

“You know how many women want to shop at this place? I didn’t know that your sister owned it. I told my best friend I was coming here, and she nearly lost her mind.”

He laughs softly. “I’m not going to tell her that. It would go straight to her head. But I told you that I would take care of your clothes for the party, and I’m doing that. If you see anything else you like, that’s fine too.”

I tug on his hand to stop him for a second, and we fall a little behind. “Why? I don’t understand.”

He turns to face me, and he doesn’t let go of my hand. The look on his face doesn’t tell me anything. Then he leans down and kisses me. Oh. I lean into the kiss, letting him pull me closer and letting that precious heat bloom inside. God it feels good.

“I can’t lie,” he says. “I don’t know why. But there’s something here, and I want to find out what it is.”

I bite my lip. “Me too.”

“This might be too much too soon, but I’ll tell you that money means very little to me. I know that’s a privilege. But I like using it to make the lives of people in my life better. Give them things. Make them happy.”

“So you’re saying…”

“That I like buying things for people, and you need a dress. So try on whatever you like, and buy whatever you like.”

I start to laugh. “This is crazy.”

“Maybe.”

There’s another woman waiting for us along with the first, in a smaller room surrounded by mirrors. The first woman smiles at me. This time it’s overly friendly, and I can tell she’s trying to make sure that I know that she’s not judging me. That she doesn’t want to offend Eric. She gestures to the second woman. Still in a crisp black suit, but with darker hair and a naturally friendly face. “This is Anita. She’ll be helping you today with whatever you need.”

I glance at Eric, and see his mouth twitch up into a smile. He noticed her emphasis on ‘whatever’ too. “Thank you,” he says.

There’s an awkward moment when we all just stand there, and wait until the first woman—she didn’t mention her name—leaves. And it’s still a little awkward after she’s gone.

“What can I help you with today,” Anita says finally.

“My family is hosting a party tomorrow,” Eric says. “Sally is a guest. She needs attire for that, and if she sees anything else she likes, she’s welcome to have it.”

I blush instinctively because this isn’t really life. People don’t actually say things like that or get chances to just try on gowns that cost thousands of dollars.

“Perfect,” Anita says. “Sally, why don’t you come with me and we’ll find you some things to try and you can tell me a little more about your style. Mr. Marshall, you can remain here for now. Refreshments will be along shortly.”

He sits down on one of the chairs, and Anita guides me through a door and into the gallery space which is large and open like the entrance. This place is huge! There are dresses on mannequins that I don’t even want to know how much they cost, and more on racks. Holy shit this isn’t happening. There’s a giddy feeling in my chest and if this actually turns out to be a dream, I really don’t want to wake up.

“Do you have an idea of what you’re looking for?” Anita asks me.

“I honestly have no idea,” I say. “Guide me. Please.”

She laughs. “Sure. What colors do you like? We’ll start there.”

“For clothes, blue, purple, red, green. Richer colors.”

“Okay,” she nods, “Do you have a preferred silhouette?”

I shake my head. “My best friend is a stylist. I wear what she tells me most of the time. Today not included.”

We both laugh. “Well, I’ll show you some things, and if anything jumps out at you, tell me.”

“That I can do.”

We walk around the showroom together, and I’m overwhelmed by the choices and fabrics and colors. It feels like there’s an infinite number of options. I wonder how long it would take for someone to try on everything in the store. Days, probably.

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