CHAPTER FOURTEEN
(Charlotte)
“Bad news.”
I looked up from my breakfast. It’s possible that I’d miss Matt’s personal chef more than I’d miss Matt when I went home. My omelet was so good, I almost forgot he was there.
“I have to go to the office today. If it weren’t important—”
I waved my hand. “You have a job. I knew that when I came here. And honestly? I’m glad you’re going back to it. I want you to get back to your normal life and stop running away from shit.”
He nodded and hid what I thought was a smile behind his hand. “Fair enough.”
“Also, you don’t have to entertain me.” I gestured to the awful, terrifying view. “We’re in New York. I’ll go sightseeing.”
He frowned. “There’s no good way to put this, and you’re going to be offended, but… I need you to go shopping.”
I squinted at him. “You don’t have someone who does that for you?”
“Not that kind of shopping.” He cleared his throat and looked uncomfortably away before returning his gaze to me, totally defeated. “Clothes.”
“Oh.” Why was that supposed to be offensive? “I get it. I only brought vacation stuff. I don’t have a lot of ‘meet the mother’ gear with me.”
“Exactly. I’m so glad you understand.” He let out a relieved breath. “I authorized you on one of my cards. Go out, get whatever you want.”
“I know I’m supposed to protest and say I don’t want to spend your money, but you have way too much money.” Why did I still have a weird feeling about it, though? I supposed it was because I came from a world where words like “cost” and “price” had material consequences.
“Great,” he said cheerfully. “Make a game of it?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What kind of game?”
“The dragon likes to spoil his princess. But the dragon can’t go with his princess. So, he has to trust that she’ll do exactly as he says.” He leaned back in his chair with a grin. “You’ll spend fifty thousand dollars today. Minimum.”
My jaw dropped. “Matt, I do not need—
“Or you’ll be punished,” he finished with a warning arch of his brow.
“Punished how?” I asked, though it wasn’t the first question that immediately sprang to mind. All of my thoughts went disorganized the moment he dropped the dollar amount.
“No orgasms tonight.” He reached for his coffee. “At least, no good ones. How about this: for every thousand dollars you fail to spend, you’ll be punished with one ruined orgasm.”
The noise that came out of my throat was somewhere between a choke and an indignant laugh. “Okay, where am I supposed to go spend fifty thousand dollars?”
“Start with Bergdorf. Mention my name to a sales associate and give them my card. Tell them you need a wardrobe for a weekend in the country.”
And that’s what this was about. I needed to look rich enough to impress his family.
My stomach dropped. “You must do this for all your girlfriends.”
“Not all,” he said cheerfully, taking a sip from his mug.
“The ones who don’t have the appropriate high-end clothing to meet your mother.” It came out sounding bitter and ungrateful and accusatory, and, frankly, that’s how I suddenly felt. Not good enough for him.
He swallowed and frowned. “This is exactly the direction in which I did not wish this conversation to travel.”
“Sorry. Pack your bags because we’re going there.” I folded my arms, and my shoulders naturally hunched with the motion. I felt myself growing smaller by the second.
“You’re right,” he began, making no apology. “My family is old money. There is a certain standard, and they judge people by it. I don’t. Frankly, I wouldn’t give a shit if you spent the whole weekend in pajama pants. But I don’t want you to spend the weekend feeling like you’re being criticized for not fitting in. At least, any more than you’re already going to criticize yourself for not fitting in.”
Damnit. He had me pegged there.
“I don’t give a fuck how you dress, Charlotte,” he went on. “I would prefer it if you were always undressed. But I also don’t want you to run from me when you find out the kind of world you’ll be living in with me.”
I shook my head and smiled, though I wanted to stay mad at him. Not for suggesting that I might need better clothes for meeting his mother than I took on vacation. Not for suggesting I spend his money, because he really did have too much. But for knowing me well enough that he could see the vain, insecure streak that had admittedly reared its head ever since I walked into his penthouse palace.
“And as I said, I like to spoil my princess.” He took another sip of coffee, then put the mug down. “And I love to spoil that gorgeous pussy. It would be a shame if I had to punish it.”
“What kind of activities do I need clothes for?” I asked, not quite ready to melt from his ridiculous charm. “Tweed for shooting?”
“It’s not a shooting weekend,” he said, fully blowing my mind when the answer I’d expected was, “Those are made up for movies about rich people.”
Man, I was way underprepared for this kind of world.
“My mother’s party will be formal. You’re going to want an evening gown for that. Dinner the night before will be less formal, but we do dress for it. You can do a cocktail dress. During the day, we’re more casual, but I’ll warn you that for my sister, casual still means dressing like a member of the royal fucking family.” He rolled his eyes and I got the feeling that he found all these rules as silly as any commoner should. “I would also suggest something for outdoors, if we decide to go riding.”
“Riding?” I had never ridden a horse in my life. I didn’t intend to start now. “Not to be… Can you even ride a horse, with your leg?”
“Won’t know until I try.” He tilted his head. “And even if I can’t, it’s a great euphemism for sneaking off and fucking.”
A laugh exploded from my throat. “You’re not going to want to fuck me when we’re at your mother’s house.”
“I want to fuck you everywhere. I want to bend you over this table right now. I would, if I didn’t have to get out of here.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I hate that I’m going back to work.”
“I love that you are,” I said, surprising myself. “I didn’t know the old Matt, but the new Matt needs to get into the rhythm of his normal life. And let’s say I decide to stay here longer—”
He brightened up considerably. “Yes, let’s say that.”
“If,” I emphasized. “We’re not going to stay in this apartment naked full-time.”
He made an exaggeratedly juvenile, “Aww,” of disappointment.
“I’m going to get a job, for one.” That was nonnegotiable. “I mean, it’s not like I’d be contributing a substantial amount of income. And I can live without working. But I don’t want to be caged up here.”
“Whoa, whoa.” He rose and came to stand beside my chair, his palms flat on the table as he leaned down. “Listen to me: you’re never going to be caged up. You’re in New York. There is so much to do down there. Shopping, shows, museums—”
“Okay, tourism board,” I interrupted him. “Have you ever been to those museums?”
He hesitated.
“When it wasn’t for rich people events and galas?” I added.
He dropped his head in shame. “No, I have not.” Looking up, he added, “But I could! Now that you’re here.”
“What I’m saying is that I have to have a life of my own so that I can maintain an identity separate from you.” I took a deep breath. “Look, I’m going to spend your money today. I have no qualms about redistributing a billionaire’s wealth into my own pocket. But I’m not going to become a kept woman. Spas all day? Shopping for things I’m buying out of boredom? That all sounds amazing for a week. After that, I’ll get tired of it. I’m fickle.”
“And you don’t want to get tired of me,” he finished for me.
I reached up and tousled his shower-damp hair. “I love you. I don’t want to screw this up.”
He captured my hand and brought it to his lips. “I don’t want that either.”
God, he was so fucking charming. And handsome. You’re going to screw this up, an unhelpful voice in the back of my mind warned me.
“Fifty thousand?” I repeated, to be sure I’d heard him correctly.
“At least fifty thousand,” he confirmed.
“And what do I get if I succeed?” I asked.
His eyebrows lifted. “Fifty thousand dollars’ worth of new wardrobe.”
“If you were going to punish me, my dragon, I assume you’re also going to reward me.” I sat back and toyed with the top of my robe, sliding my fingers along the edge of the soft material. I opened my legs, but the robe obscured the view I knew he wanted.
His mouth slanted in a crooked smile. “Trust your dragon.”
“Completely,” I promised, and watched with a smirk of satisfaction as he adjusted himself under his pajama bottoms before walking away.
Fifty thousand dollars. I was going to have to buy a fucking car to avoid my punishment.
* * * *
It wasn’t as if I’d never been in a high-end department store before. My parents made plenty of money, and my prom dresses in high school had been fantastic. But I was not prepared for Bergdorf Goodman.
Entering was like stepping into Versailles. And even though on the West Coast, you could tell how rich someone was based on how sloppy they looked in public, here, everyone seemed to be wearing designer everything.
I was in jeans and T-shirt with a purse from Target over my arm.
A sales associate spotted me, and I started their way. They turned and hoofed it.
Fuck.
Matt was rich enough to shop here. I wasn’t.
I spent some time exploring. There were boutique areas for names I’d heard of but never dreamed of wearing and I certainly wasn’t brave enough to touch anything. I wondered if I would be punished if I just bought an expensive necklace or something and handed him the receipt.
“Excuse me.”
I spun at the sound of the voice, certain I would see a store associate ready to ask me if I needed to know where the exit was. Instead, a gorgeous brunette in a strange, baggy aqua dress that looked like a men’s shirt on top and balloon animal legs for a skirt stood there with a dazzling, if perplexed, smile.
And she did look familiar.
“I think we know each other.” She adjusted the enormous tortoiseshell-frame sunglasses perched atop her head as they attempted to slide off.
“I’m brand new to the city, so I’m sorry, I don’t think so.” But she did look like someone I had seen before. I couldn’t put my finger on where. “Do you ever get out to Los Angeles?”
“Not often. I do own a hotel out there, but it’s not like, a ritzy one.” She laughed and waved a hand, like it was a silly thing anyone could say. “Long story.”
But the more I looked at her, the more I was sure I knew who she was. “This is going to drive me bonkers. I swear we’ve met.”
“London?” she suggested doubtfully.
I shook my head.
“The Hamptons?” And then she shook her head, adding, “No, I know literally nobody out there.”
“I’m pretty sure we don’t run in the same circles,” I said apologetically. “Did you happen to attend a wedding a few months ago where someone was mauled by a bear?”
Then, her eyes went wide.
And I immediately knew who she was.
“Um…” Her cheeks flushed bright red. “I’m not supposed to say where I remember you from.”
“Me either.” Because I remembered her from being tied down to the chair at the roulette wheel at Ascend Red.
While her husband with the huge dick fucked me.
“This is…awkward.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. “I think I’ll—”
“You don’t have to,” she said quickly. “I mean, it’s not like we’re breaking the rules if we both happened to recognize each other.”
“Yeah, but…” I lowered my voice and glanced around us. “Your husband…fucked me.”
“Both of them did,” she corrected me, fully casual about having two of them. “We just got back into the whole swinging thing. El-Mudad—he’s one of my husbands—had some reservations about it for a while. That’s probably why we never met down there, before.”
“It was my first time there,” I explained, feeling a little dizzy. How many New York elite had I fucked? And would I run into all of them and have to have this kind of conversation?
“I’m Sophie.” She stuck her hand out. There were stacks of gold bangles around her wrists.
I shook her hand and introduced myself. “Charlotte. I’m Matt’s girlfriend.”
“Lucky you,” she said with a laugh. “You’re new in the city? Did you move in with him?”
“Not yet.” Yet? Was I actually considering it?
“Neil—that’s my other husband—says Matt’s apartment is incredible. I’ve never been there.” She rolled her eyes and made air quotes, saying, “‘boys’ night.’ At least, before the accident.”
“I’m sorry, how do you know Matt?” I had a good idea what she meant by ‘boys’ night,’ and I didn’t necessarily want to think about her husbands jacking off in my living room.
Matt’s living room.
I’d only been here a few days, and I was way too comfortable.
“He’s a big donor to my husband’s foundation.” She didn’t explain what the foundation was but barreled ahead to the important part. “We all hit it off. Like minds, and all that.”
“Right. Like minds.” I nodded in understanding. Sophie’s lifestyle wasn’t traditional, and Matt was open-minded enough that he could overlook stuff like that.
Plus, she didn’t seem snobby. That was probably a trait that was difficult to come by with Matt’s background.
And it might help me out now.
“I don’t want to interrupt your day, and if you’re in a big hurry, I totally get it,” I began to blather, “but… Do you think you could help me? Matt sent me here to buy stuff, but…”
She nodded as if listening to a story she’d heard a thousand times. “I knew I picked up the normal-person vibe.”
I tilted my head.
“I’m a normal person,” she explained. “Or, I was. I’ve been rich for like a decade, now. But I didn’t start out that way. Let me guess, he sent you out here with a credit card, thinking you’d stroll in and buy whatever you wanted?”
I almost fainted with relief. “Yes. And I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. We’re going to his mom’s house in Connecticut this weekend—”
“Old money?” she interrupted me.
I nodded frantically.
“Right. Well, I was coming here to meet my shopper. I think this is a clear sign that the universe put you in my path for a reason.” Then, as if we were old friends, she linked arms with me. “What’s the budget?”
I let her steer us toward an elevator. Having someone else’s help should have made this all less overwhelming, but she was so determined that I got twice as nervous. “I have to spend at least fifty thousand. It’s part of a game.”
She snorted. “Okay, at least fifty thousand? Then you’re going to spend a hundred thousand.”
My stomach roiled. “I don’t think I can do that.”
We stepped into the elevator, and she put her hands on both my shoulders, looking me directly in the eyes. “Trust me. He will be thrilled. There is very little that powerful, rich men like more than seeing women spend their money.”
And when she put it like that, it was difficult to argue.