27. Rage shop
TWENTY-SEVEN
RAGE SHOP
Alessio
I promised Leo we’d share lunch in the hotel’s movie theater if he wouldn’t mind a detour to the jewelry store where I need to pick up the gifts I want his governess to wear this evening. Since Leo approves of Lake, he tags along happily.
When we walk into the store, the staff offers me champagne and snacks, which I refuse in favor of speeding up the jewelry selection.
Behind the counter, the manager with blond hair perfectly sleeked on one side, gives me a winning smile, his green eyes practically turning into dollar signs. He loves money, and Val’s money loves him back, so my money is a Christmas bonus for him.
“Mr. Angelini, what a nice surprise,” Pavle says as he makes his way toward me. He air-kisses me, once on each cheek.
We make small talk for a minute, and I ask about his mother. Pavle’s father died when he was a boy.
“She’s doing well, thank you. Not finding retirement as exciting as work, but with a broken leg, one must rest.”
“Send her my best.” I loop the ropes of the royal blue bags holding the jewelry boxes around my finger and am turning to leave when a large, shiny diamond catches my eye. I approach the showcase on the wall to take a closer look.
Pavle follows but doesn’t smother me with an annoying sales pitch. He gives me a moment to admire the diamond that reflects the light ever so perfectly. Like his mother before him, Pavle has a knack for designing pieces of jewelry that people stop to admire.
When I hesitate, he starts the pitch. “A very rare piece I’m taking to a king for a showing today.”
“Which king?”
He tells me, and because I’m familiar with the tastes of this king, I know this diamond isn’t to be missed.
“You’re going to meet the king in person?” I ask.
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you think he’ll buy it?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know he was getting married again.”
“He’s not, sir. His wife had a baby.”
When my phone pings with a message, I step away. Twenty minutes ago, I texted Lake asking about her day. When she didn’t reply, I got a bit itchy under my skin and followed her, casually, before entering the jewelry shop and going about my business. I found her sitting on the bench instead of shopping. That was when I sent her a text:
How’s my fav pet doing?
Fine. BTW, when you call me a pet, which pet do you have in mind?
With a simple nod at Pavle, I step away from the showcase.
I have no preference…as long you’re the pet.
;)
I can be any pet I want to be?
Yes.
A dog?
Puppy sounds better.
You DO have a preference.
I also like ponies.
Um…
Too soon? ;)
When you said I should go shopping, I assumed I would shop. You know, walk from store to store, window to window, until something caught my eye.
Why would you think that?
Um, because that’s how people shop.
I frown.
But I told you what to buy, so why would you think I’d have you wandering around Paris like a lost puppy? (pun)
When she doesn’t respond, I peek outside Pavle’s shop and spot her in the boutique. She’s trying on a long black gown (not what I wanted).
I’ve never had a private viewing. There are people looking at me, and they can’t come in because I’m here.
And?
There are men securing the block of shops, Alessio. I don’t need this much security. It’s not like I’m a celebrity.
Celebrities have personal shoppers.
On the way out of the jewelry shop, I thank Pavle and grab Leo’s hand. We head in the opposite direction from where Lake’s shopping. I don’t want her to see me.
* * *
I’ve never been to a movie theater before. My parents wouldn’t allow it. I was groomed to become one particular princess’s husband, a royal who would serve the crown. And the princess, for that matter. In return, my family would regain power, since a while back, we lost it and much of our wealth.
I was young, and the promise of the crown sounded wonderful. But one summer, after I copiloted an airplane, I decided I wanted to go to a military academy. That summer, the princess told my parents that I had impregnated her, which led to my parents pressuring me to marry her. Val found out she lied about the pregnancy, and I’ve stayed away from romantic relationships ever since.
Turns out, there are other ways to gain power, and I managed to procure them for myself without sacrificing my life and tying myself to a manipulative woman who only ever cared about herself. I believe that people who love us also love our dreams. That princess hated mine.
Since then, I’ve met my sexual needs in various ways. I recognize that when I’m with Lake, I enjoy tending to the needs of my heart, which I express by spending a small fortune on her jewelry.
Half an hour into the movie, my personal line pings again.
Leo gives me a dirty look. On the big screen, the yellow sponge is having a crisis, and I’m interrupting it by texting my romantic interest. Bad uncle.
There were no price tags anywhere on it, so I had no idea the dress would ring up for over $300,000. I’m returning it.
Did you find a purse?
Did you read my message? I’m returning the dress.
Shoes?
NO.
You’ll walk around barefoot?
I’m going back to the room.
I sit up on the chair.
Keep the dress. Buy black leather shoes with heels and a purse to match. Stop talking about the prices of items or I’ll have Annette confiscate your card and spend more than she should on it.
A pause. Lengthy pause. I steal Leo’s chicken nugget. These are actually good.
“You have to dip it in ketchup,” he whispers, even though we’re the only ones in the movie theater. It’s a private showing.
I get the impression you know Annette well. Do you?
She’s Val’s personal Parisian stylist. I called her in for Lake.
She’s my ex.
Another lengthy pause, and I smirk as I dip my nugget in ketchup. Mmm. This is really good.
Ten minutes later, Lake texts again.
YOU BASTARD.
I smile.
What happened?
She started talking about you, and I thought she was gaslighting me, so I shoved the picture you took of us doing the dirty into her face while telling her how you’re mine now and all that, but she…
I throw my head back and laugh.
Annette is a lesbian. I lied.
MIDDLE FINGER!
I read the message again. Wait a minute, Lake thinks I’m hers. Am I?
I’m completely humiliated and angry.
LOL. Then rage shop.
Five minutes later.
I’m at the jeweler
Uh-oh.
Which one?
His name is Pavle, and we’re sipping champagne.
Tell him you’re in Paris with me.
I don’t want Pavle to mention anything he shouldn’t, like what I picked up at the store today. I want it to be a surprise.
I told him.
What did he say?
He said I need matching earrings.
He’s right. I forgot about the earrings.
Alessio, I know you’re a millionaire and all, but I can’t spend a million euros on a shopping trip.
I’m not a millionaire.
That’s even worse. No, wait, what do you mean?
Buy the earrings, Lake.
Fifteen minutes later, an image of three pairs of earrings lights my screen.
HELP.
The pair in the middle.
Thank you.
What’s the strawberry emoji mean? Should I respond? How do I respond when I don’t know what it means? I could research. What a terrible waste of time. But is it? Why am I even debating this? Just heart the stupid emoji.
I heart it.
Lake doesn’t know I’ve never hearted a single message in all my life.