Noel.
Me: Would it be rude if I left him?
Simone: Yes, why would you? What happened? Did he do something?
B ESIDES THE FACT that last night he made clear that he was only here for a week of fun, and then he was going back to his life . . . Nope, nothing happened at all.
Me: No, but I don’t want to go shopping with him. You know my situation. I was going to grab something inexpensive, prayerfully on sale, and then maybe even return it. I can’t do that with him there.
Simone: Why the hell not?
Because I’m in between blessings, and he’s rich, and it will only further convince him that we don’t fit. Not that it matters. He already knows we don’t.
Me: Because it will be weird shopping with a stranger.
Simone: Shopping with a stranger or shopping with a wealthy stranger?
I chewed my lip, hating how easily she could read me.
Me: Both.
Those three dots danced. Stopped. Danced again. Stopped once more, and then the message came through.
Simone: If he can’t love you for you and all your bargain-dress-buying-glory, then fuck him, And I don’t mean the way you’ve been doing all week. I mean Queen Bey style: middle-finger-up, boy-bye kinda fuck you. Rich people who are rudely rich aren’t real people. They’re assholes, and I hope that’s not who he is, but if that is, in fact, the truth, then again, fuck him.
I smiled widely, proud of how much she truly loved me and would tear down a total stranger just to make sure I was okay.
Me: I love you for loving me, and you’re right. Fuck him if he can’t love me in all my bargain-dress-buying-glory. Gotta go. I’ll send pictures.
Simone: You better, and I love you more. Slay, bitch, slay.
Me: I will!
Ten minutes later, rounding out our fifteen to twenty-five, Kanton came hurrying out of the bathroom, leaving a trail of citrus and bergamot lingering in the air as he passed me, dumping his things on top of his suitcase and then putting on his shoes. How could I dislike someone as sexy as this man? He made it really hard.
Hard.
Stop it.
“Ready?” He glanced at me on his way to the door, where he grabbed the fleece scarf I had forced him to wear when we went tree shopping. My heart melted at the sight because I knew he did that for me. It matched my bright green skully because the two came as a set.
“You’re wearing that?”
“You’re wearing that.” He pointed to my hat. “And I thought that tacky Christmas attire was a requirement for holiday shopping.”
“Tree shopping and it’s not tacky. It’s nostalgic.” When I lifted my chin, he ignored my defiant rebuttal and nodded.
“Since I’m forcing my way to tag along, I figured I might as well keep my guide happy.”
“You’re a very smart man, Mr. Joseph.”
“I’ve been told a time or two.”
Kanton drove us to Shops at Buckhead using my navigation system since he insisted on driving. I was grateful because traffic was terrible, overloaded with what I could only assume was last-minute shoppers and possibly travelers driving through the city en route to their families.
The thought made me sad with the reminder that I couldn’t be with mine, and although I’d talked to Mom and Dad several times, it just wasn’t the same. The good thing was my week hadn’t been so terrible thanks to the very attractive man whipping my car through traffic like he lived here. He drove with skill and very confidently as if daring anyone to get in our way. I was grateful they didn’t because I wasn’t sure how that would end.
We parked and walked inside the crowded mall, dodging bodies. At some point, Kanton and I ended up hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder. It was easier to stay together until we reached our location.
The directory.
I aimed to send him on his merry little way while I went on mine.
“You can search there and see what stores you want to try. We can meet back up in about an hour, OK? Is that enough time?”
He arched a brow and stepped closer. “Or we could go together. It might help to know what you’re wearing so I can decide what to get.”
No, not happening.
“We don’t have to match.”
“I disagree. You’re my date, and I’m yours.” His smile was sexy, and, oh, so hard to resist, but still . . .
“It’s not exactly a real date. More like you’re my plus-one. Matching is not required.”
“Again, I disagree. Where to first?”
“Kanton . . .” I huffed.
“Noel . . .” he returned with an adamant challenge.
“Fine. Neiman’s.”
“Perfect. I’m sure I can find something there.”
“Of course you can,” I murmured, feeling annoyed.
We were moving again, and after a long pause of silence, Kanton stepped in front of me, causing my body to slam right into his chest. His hands on my arms righted me so that I didn’t fall, but the frown on his face matched mine.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No, why?”
“Because you’ve been a little distant, maybe even annoyed, since we got home last night, and based on how you’ve been acting today, it seems like you’d rather be anywhere but near me. If I said or did something—”
“You haven’t,” I huffed and relaxed some. It wasn’t his fault that I was stressed about spending money I didn’t have. Nor was it his fault I wanted one night to dress up and feel pretty, standing next to a man who I was falling for and who would be gone soon . . . leaving me with yet another disappointment. “I just . . . This has been a lot, but none of this is your fault.”
“This as in us ?”
“Yes, but spending time with you hasn’t been a bad thing. This is just me being me . . . well, never mind. It’s not a big deal.”
He frowned harder, searching my face. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.” I forced a smile and slipped my hand into his. “Let’s go find something for tonight.”
As soon as we entered the store, I browsed dresses with the ability to check the prices because Kanton accepted a call and stepped away for privacy, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping tabs on my whereabouts.
When I moved too far, he moved with me, keeping a respectful distance and ensuring he was within reach. For what, I didn’t know, but based on the way he followed my every move with those intense eyes, I could pretty much guess. He liked looking at me just as much as I enjoyed looking at him, and that, within itself, was an issue.
When I made my third trip to the dressing room with several new dresses, I was convinced that I couldn’t find the right one. At least, not one that wouldn’t consume the entire free balance I had on Emmie.
Nothing worked for a plethora of reasons. Too short, too long, too tight, too full, exposed too much cleavage, didn’t show enough. Nothing worked. Not one of the dresses I tried screamed, “This is the one!”
This time, when I came marching out of the dressing room, feeling defeated, I was startled at the low rasp and deep brown eyes that were waiting.
“Still no luck?”
“No. I give up.”
He smirked, turned away from me, and when he was back in view, he held up a dress. “May I offer a suggestion?”
Kanton lowered his eyes to the dress. It was absolutely perfect.
Beautiful, so perfect . . . and so expensive . . .
I didn’t have to see the price tag to know I couldn’t afford it. I hated how much I really wanted to try it on but wouldn’t because I’d be heartbroken when it fit as perfectly as I knew it would . . . so I picked a fight.
“I’m sorry if my economical selections don’t suit your taste, but unfortunately, that’s all I can afford right now. I’ll pick one of these.”
“You think I picked this dress because of how much it cost?”
The look on his face crushed me. Kanton was offended. And he should have been. Not once had he thrown his money or status in my face, and here I was doing it for him. But I was already invested, so I stood my ground, crossing my arms over my chest, cradling the armful of dresses I tried on against my body.
“Didn’t you?”
I wasn’t backing down, but neither was he. Offended or not, he stood his ground as well. “No, I didn’t. I saw the saleswoman passing by with this dress. Another customer had it on hold and called to release it after finding another they liked better. She was about to return it to the sales floor, but I asked if I could see it. The minute I got a better look, I knew it would be perfect. And not because of the price. Because of the pattern, layers, and unique details. It’s also incredibly sexy, and I could literally visualize how amazing you’re going to look with it on. I picked this dress because it fit you , Not because it fits some nonexistent budget that you’re assuming I like to adhere to while shopping. I honestly don’t have a damn clue how much the dress cost.”
Again, I felt like shit . . . but I stood my ground. “A lot. I can tell, and I can’t afford to pay whatever it costs. Not right now.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to pay for it. I’ll buy the dress.”
“No.”
Kanton’s expression shifted again, and I could sense he was doing his best to keep his cool, but when he inched closer, instead of arguing or saying fuck it, his hands moved lower, taking possession of the dresses I was holding. He held out the one he selected until I accepted it, and then he relaxed his expression.
“I’m not your ex. I don’t need to buy expensive things to make up for not seeing you how you deserve to be seen. I don’t give a damn what you wear tonight. You can wear one of those ugly-ass sweaters or those adorably sexy satin pajama sets if that’s what you prefer. I would still stand proudly beside you, You like this dress. I can see it in your eyes, so try it on, and if you still love it, then allow me the privilege of buying it for you.”
“Okay.”
How could I say no after that very compelling argument?
“Okay?” He was surprised by my one-word response.
“Yes, I said okay. I’ll try the dress on. If it fits, and that’s a big if , I’ll let you buy it for me.”
“It will fit.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. I might have asked the saleswoman to gauge your size for me, and she assured me that that dress would be a perfect fit.”
I smiled, rolling my eyes. “Of course you did.”
I tried on the dress, which was a perfect fit, as promised. And as he promised, I loved it, and so did Kanton based on how his eyes devoured me. I asked him to take a few pictures, and he insisted on taking them on his phone and sending them to me. I had a suspicion that was so he had his own to keep. He purchased the dress, and then we headed to the men’s section. And while he browsed, I sent the pictures to Simone so she wouldn’t murder me.
After the first picture was delivered, I received an immediate response.
Simone: You better do that shit, bestie.
Me: You like?
Simone: Bitch, I love. Looks expensive, though.
Me: It is. He paid for it, and no, he’s not rude rich.
Simone: Then fuck him again and again and again . . . the right way. In the dress, because he deserves it.
Me: I’m already in over my head.
Simone: Then it’s too late to worry about it. Get the dick, friend.
That was followed by a string of very inappropriate emojis, which made me lock my phone and search for Kanton. When I located him and approached where he was standing, I instantly regretted it.
“Noel, hi.” I was greeted by Kenya, one of Neiman’s personal shoppers, who I had, on occasion, used to help me shop, but not for myself. Her eyes bounced between me and Kanton, and as soon as recognition set in, she smiled bigger.
“Oh, wow, this is Evan, isn’t it? We finally meet after all this time of helping Noel pick the perfect gifts, more helping than selecting, so don’t worry.” She paused to wink at Kanton. “I was beginning to believe you didn’t exist.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but you’re still not meeting Evan.”
Her eyes bounced between us again, and she frowned apologetically. “Oh, I’m sorry. I assumed—”
“It’s fine. He and I aren’t together anymore. This is Kanton. A friend.”
“Friend, right. Again, sorry,” she said to me and then turned to him. “Give me just a minute to check on that suit for you. Black on black, right? Will you need it altered?”
“Yes, all black, and if you have those measurements, then I won’t need alterations.”
“Perfect. Be right back.”
“Evan, the ex?” he said as soon as she was gone.
“Yes, Evan, the ex,” I repeated.
“You must have shopped here a lot if she remembers you and who you were shopping for.”
“Let’s just say enough. He had specific tastes. It was easier to stick to what I knew he liked.”
“I see.”
“But you knew that already, didn’t you?” I peeked at him as he fingered through a display of ties.
“What makes you say that?”
“The ‘I’m not like your ex who needs to buy you expensive things’ comment. I’m guessing Lewis told you about him?”
“Briefly, but not much, though. Mostly that you two didn’t fit.”
I smirked, nodding. “They didn’t like each other.”
“I imagine not. Lewis and Cleo seem very protective of you.”
“They are.”
“What happened between you two, if you don’t mind me asking?” He turned to face me, and I wanted to say I did mind, but what did it matter? He wasn’t asking for a reference of what not to do. More to fill in the blanks of what Lewis left out.
“He traveled a lot for work. He’s a corporate attorney with clients all over the country. I decided that being in a relationship was no fun if I was always alone. He didn’t put up much of a fight, so we ended things. I’m sure you can understand that. The ‘not having time’ part because you’re busy.”
“Sounds like that was best for him, not — ”
“You’re in luck. I have the measurements you need. Would you like to try it on?”
“No, but I do need a shirt.”
“Black?” He glanced at me when she asked, as if he was requesting my approval. I nodded, and his eyes shifted back to her.
“Yes, and that will be all.”
“Okay, perfect.” She left with his suit and added a shirt, and shortly after, we were on our way.
As we left Neiman’s, Kanton walked incredibly close, carrying the garment bags holding my dress and his suit. I was beginning to appreciate what his closeness felt like, and that made me inch away with each step we took.
“How about we grab some lunch before heading home?” he suggested, and I scrunched my nose, peeking up at him when that word he had been using so freely found its way through his lips again.
“Home for you is New York.”
“It is, but for now, your apartment is your home for me.”
I huffed a sigh and gently shook my head.
“So, lunch?”
“Sure, but I’m treating. It’s the least I can do.” My eyes lowered to the garment bags draped over his arm, and his steps paused as we entered the lower level of the Food Pavilion just outside of California Pizza Kitchen.
“This isn’t a competition, I’m not keeping score, and neither should you.”
“I’m not—”
I didn’t care about his money. I cared about how people with his type of money made me feel because I didn’t have it. I also realized that was my issue, not his . Evan treated me like an accessory. Similar to the expensive cars he drove. Some days, he chose to show me attention, and I’d get to make a few rounds; others, he elected to have a driver because he couldn’t be bothered by the hassle.
I wasn’t on his level, so he didn’t have to respect me. In his eyes, I should be happy that he considered me worth what little time and attention he offered. It took me a while to figure that out, but I did.
It also took time not to feel the sting from how little he respected me. Being around Kanton was a reminder of sorts, no matter how different he and Evan were. Evan started off great, and then one day, he wasn’t.
“You are. Let it go. Pick your poison. I can eat just about anything.” The way his eyes traveled down my body temporarily derailed my thoughts, and a flush of warmth traveled through me.
We settled on pizza since we were right there, waiting outside the opening to be seated, and we ended up in a booth near the back. We ordered, and I decided to stop overthinking and just enjoy the moment, but curiosity got the best of me when I decided to do a little digging of my own.
“You know all about my ex, but I don’t know anything about yours.”
“Do you want to?” Kanton grinned at me, and I shrugged nonchalantly.
“I wouldn’t say I want to, but it seems appropriate since you know about mine.”
His smile expanded. “You really like keeping score, don’t you?”
“Maybe.”
He chuckled and leaned back, resting one arm on the table, the other in his lap. The position opened his body more, and my eyes traveled from his face down to his chest until I caught myself, and they snapped back up.
“What would you like to know?”
“What did you do to run her off?” I flashed a cocky grin.
“What makes you think she didn’t run me off?”
“It’s possible, but my money is on you being the problem.”
He laughed lightly and drummed his fingers on the table. “You’d be wrong. Neither of us were necessarily the problem. We just didn’t fit and never should have been together in the first place.”
“That means she wasn’t Mommy-Résumé-Approved?”
He belted out a laugh. “Most definitely not. Jordan is an influencer, for lack of a better word. My mother would hate that about her. Our issue, however, is I’m more structured, whereas she loathes the idea of schedules and responsibility. It never would have worked.”
“Didn’t you know that when you met her?”
Evan knew who I was. I never pretended to be someone I wasn’t. Yet, he pretended to want me until he decided he and I didn’t fit. Even though I was the one who ended things, he would have.
“In some ways, yes, but there’s always the ‘opposite attract’ theory. I enjoyed it for what it was . . .”
“She was a temporary fix for the days when you wanted to explore a less-structured lifestyle.”
He frowned at me, staring intently for a long moment. “No. I never play with anyone’s emotions, That’s not who I am. She wasn’t some toy or distraction. We both tried something new, enjoyed the relationship while we were in it, but we realized that we were two very different people. Our long-term goals didn’t align, which posed a problem when considering anything real.”
“Oh . . .”
His eyes never left my face when he asked, “Is that how he made you feel?”
“What? No . . .” I squared my shoulders. “And this isn’t about me. I was asking about you.”
“You were.” He nodded, lifting his drink.
“Maybe we should keep things neutral. No more relationship talk. Agreed?”
His eyes narrowed slightly, but a smile was there. “Agreed.”
I switched the subject. “What’s the big plan to convince Brighton that you’re his guy?”
“No big plan. The goal is to tell him why I’m the best.”
I frowned slightly. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“Why?”
“You weren’t even on the list to begin with, which means he doesn’t care about all the reasons you’re the best. I’m sure he knows what he needs and presumably hand selected the firm he wanted to use. If you want to close the deal, you’ll have to do better than rattling off facts about you and your company.”
“Yeah?”
“Definitely.”
His eyes flicked with amusement. “Then what do you suggest I do?”
“I don’t know, just, you know . . . Do what you do. You can be pretty charming when you want to. Charm him.”
Kanton smiled arrogantly, and I realized my slip when the corners of his mouth tilted higher. “You think I’m charming?”
“Annoyingly so, yes.”
He chuckled and lifted his beer again. “I won’t disagree, but charming Brighton might not be as easy as charming someone like you.”
“Why not?”
His eyes dragged down my body again. “Let’s just say there’s not a chance in hell that he will pique my interest enough for me to invest fully . . . the way that you have.”
My cheeks heated, and I rolled my eyes, knowing what he hinted. “Well, either way, you’d better try because your plan sucks, and I doubt that listing facts will be enough.”
“Noted.” He grinned. “I’ll think of something. Can’t have you disappointed in me now, can I?”
“Nope. That would be a travesty.”
Kanton chuckled again, and we left the topic there, which was good for both of us if we would survive the rest of his time here.