Chapter 18
Don’t fight it
Harley
Kaz parks his Mercedes in front of a building I never thought I would ever set foot in again.
I swing my gaze in his direction. “This is New York, there are a gazillion discount clothing shops, secondhand shops, and I’m certain there are tons of sample sales happening as we speak.”
“I’m sure you’re right, but this is the most efficient way of doing it. It’s one stop shop.”
“An expensive one stop shop.”
He shifts in his seat. “I’m footing the bill. Speaking of which…” He pulls out his wallet and extracts a black card from it. “This is for you.”
I grab the card from him and I gasp.
“This is… a Black American Express with my name on it?”
Holy shit.
I never thought I’d see Harley Mackenzie Lancaster engraved on the iconic metal card in my life. The annual and joining fee alone are preposterous. Never mind the spending requirement to be a card holder. So not part of this broke girl’s reality.
“You can buy anything you need for the charity gala.” He says that with such casual nonchalance.
I arch a brow. “Anything?”
“Anything.”
This guy has lost his marbles.
I tap the black card without limit against my chin. “What if I want to arrive in style in one of those cars where the doors lift upwards?” I demonstrate with a hand gesture.
“You like wheels with butterfly doors.” He purses his lips and nods.
“It might be a bit last minute to get a custom Bugatti pimped out for tonight. Same for the McLaren, but if your heart is set on one of those cars and you’re willing to accept a pre-owned one, that can be arranged.
I can make some calls.” He pulls out his phone.
My jaw drops. “I was joking.”
“I wasn’t.”
I blink. “It’s good to be Kaz Lindstrom.”
“Harley, during the ride from Brooklyn Heights to Manhattan, you brought up the subject a hundred times, and I pretended not to hear you. We have an arrangement. You’re my girlfriend, so you get to buy anything your heart desires.”
It must be good to be Kaz Lindstrom’s real girlfriend.
Devlyn was a fool.
“Stop looking at me like that and go shop, woman.” He taps the tip of my nose with his finger.
The intimate gesture startles us both.
We stare at each other, wide eyed.
What just happened?
Kaz clears his throat. “I can’t stay parked here for long unless I want someone to rip me a new one.”
“I guess I don’t have a choice.”
“This is a premier fashion destination.”
“That’s not the point––”
His narrowed gaze cuts my sentence short.
“Have a great day, Kaz. I’m off to shop for a pretty dress, and shoes, and a handbag, and lots and lots of other pretty things for tonight’s Active Kids gala.”
“By God, she’s got it.”
I’m grinning as I get out of his vehicle.
I close the door and wave.
I turn around to face Saks Fifth Avenue.
I could never afford to buy much at Saks at regular price, but every year, I saved up to get one designer item I coveted during their sales event.
Those days seem so far away.
My attention is snagged by a stylish woman in a red pantsuit entering the shop, carrying a crocodile skin Hermes bag.
I grimace, flashing back to that awful day at Grazie Mille.
I give the stylish woman a second glance, and pat myself on the back for selecting the best outfit I was able to hold onto––black pants, a white T-shirt that reads C?te d’Azur, France in light blue I scored at a discount store, and black ballerinas I acquired at the same store because they had a nick in the back of one shoe.
I don’t look like I’m made of money, but I look decent enough, security won’t kick me out.
When I enter the store, I turn around in a circle, taking it all in. Even though it’s eleven o’clock and the store just opened, there are quite a few shoppers milling around.
There’s nothing like kicking off Saturday with some retail therapy.
Worried I’ll get thrown out because I’m acting like a freak, I put an end to my gawking and head toward the escalators. I make my way to the women’s department and stroll toward the counter where a smiling brunette stands pretty.
“Hello,” I say. “I have an appointment with Judith.”
“Judith doesn’t work on this floor. She works on the designers’ floor.”
Dollar signs float around her head like in a cartoon.
I must’ve misheard her. “Designers floor?” As in the most expensive clothing you have in the store?
“That’s what I said.”
I’m annoying her.
Why would Kaz invest an absurd amount of money in a dress for one evening? He’s lost his mind.
“Anything else?” The woman arches a brow.
I shake my head. “Thanks for your help.”
As I trail to the escalators, I pull out my phone.
Harley
You never mentioned the fashion consultant you hired for me works in the high-end designers’ department.
SDILF
Goldilocks, unless the fashion consultant can’t deliver, which I doubt because she comes highly recommended, don’t text me to complain about price tags or how much money I’m willing to spend on you.
Argh.
Harley
You’re infuriating.
SDILF
Tell me something I don’t already know.
Harley
The dress is going to cost a fortune.
SDILF
Don’t fight it, Goldilocks. Enjoy the ride. FYI—I had to flip my day around. Instead of picking you up, I’ll send a car for you when you’re done.
Harley
I can take a taxi or a rideshare.
SDILF
I’ll send a car to pick you up when you’re done. Catch you later.
Yes, sir.
Since I spent yesterday with Kaz bouncing from one of his businesses to the other to get a feel for his empire and how I’ll go about creating more buzz, I’m not surprised he wouldn’t want to cross the Brooklyn Bridge back and forth today again.
The traffic during rush hour extends the trip by a solid forty minutes—sometimes more.
Time to get a move on.
I arrive at the high-end designers’ department and approach a tall, blond man.
I ask him for Judith, and he tells me he’ll go get her.
As I wait, I peruse the racks, too afraid to touch any of the pricey couture.
“Miss Lancaster,” a voice says from behind me.
I turn around and do a double take.
The woman standing in front of me could pass as a doppelg?nger for The Devil Wears Prada’s Miranda Priestly’s character.
“Judith?”
“Yes,” she says.
Like the editor-in-chief of the fictional fashion magazine Runway, Judith doesn’t have a hair out of place. And like the character, she must wake up at the crack of dawn to apply her makeup with such precision.
Black is the color of choice for so many stylish women in New York, but in Judith’s case, she wears the color like she came out of the womb wearing teeny black diapers and itsy-bitsy black onesies.
Judith is giving off vibes of fashion consultant extraordinaire.
She steeples her hands together and looks me up and down. “Yesterday, I had a good chat with Mr. Lindstrom, and I understand my mission.”
She says that like I’m a lost cause.
“It’s a good thing I convinced him to book la totale.”
I wrinkle my nose. “What does that mean?”
“The whole enchilada. Hair, manicure, pedicure, a mini facial, and makeup for when we’re done.” She enumerates each treatment using her fingers. “This”—she waves a finger up and down my body—”is an all-day job, Miss Lancaster.”
Ouch.
She checks her watch. “It’s ten past eleven, let’s get to it. We want to make sure you step out in style at tonight’s gala, since you’ll be hanging from one of New York’s most eligible bachelors. The press will be watching.”
She not only looks like Miranda Priestly, she sounds like her.
She crosses her arms, and rests her chin against the back of one hand. The red nails matching the red lips are the only pop of color she allowed herself. “Consider me your fairy godmother.”
I always envisioned a warm and fuzzy fairy godmother, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers. “I’m glad I don’t have to figure this out on my own.”
“Once I’m done with you, your own mother won’t be able to recognize you.”
I was having such a good day, please don’t bring down the mood by bringing my mother into it.
“If you’ll follow me,” Judith says.
I’m right behind the woman balancing on a pair of four-inch patent black heels as she weaves her way to the changing rooms.
She heads to the one located furthest to the right.
There are several rolling racks weighed down with clothes in front of it. One rack has multiple white dresses hanging from it.
Thank God my period only lasted three days.
“Let’s nail the dress for tonight first. Then, we can tackle the other rolling rack containing clothes of different colors.” She points to it.
“I thought the theme of the night was Summer in Santorini, and we had to dress in white, light blue, bright blue, or a combination of both colors.”
“Since you’re starting a new job, Mr. Lindstrom thought you might need a new wardrobe.”
I stare at the woman, dumbfounded.
“Not everything is couture, but everything is stylish and elegant,” Judith says.
Kaz is crazy.
Why would the man spoil me this much?
“You don’t seem pleased.” Judith frowns.
I shake out of my stupor. “I thought I came here to buy a dress. I didn’t expect to leave the store with a full wardrobe. So, I’m a little taken aback.”
“Today is merely a kickstart so you have a few items for the first few days at your new job. It’s going to take more than one visit for us to build you a wardrobe.”
“Right.” I respond with a slow nod.
Judith leans into me. “Take it from a woman who’s been married for twenty-five years to a man who adores her and who she adores as much in return. When he wants to take care of you, let him.” With that personal share, Judith goes from ice queen to warm and fuzzy.
I don’t have the heart to tell her Kaz and I aren’t heading down the aisle anytime soon. “I guess I’m a lucky girl.”
Judith arches a brow. “That’s the spirit.” She grabs a dress from the rack. “Let’s start with this one.”
I take it from her. “Is there a reason why there aren’t any blue dresses?”
“It was impossible to find a blue dress that matches your shoes.”
“I haven’t bought shoes yet. I was waiting to get the dress.”