Chapter 7
ELLORA
The boutique smelled like roses and expensive perfume. Soft classical music floated through the private fitting room that was larger than at least half of my apartment. This store was ridiculous.
When Holden had said that he’d made an appointment for me here, I’d never even heard of the place. I understood now why that was.
This was not the sort of shop a girl wandered into from the street to check out some dresses for her cousin’s wedding.
It was the kind of exclusive boutique frequented by the wives and girlfriends of upper crust to wear to the glittering events hosted by the rich and famous. I absolutely did not belong here.
My best friend, however, fit right in. Mercedes was engaged to a billionaire of her very own these days, and she pressed a fancy champagne flute into my hands before she started rifling through the options the store assistant had pulled for us before we’d even arrived.
“Holden booked this?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at me as she held up a sparkling silver gown. “A private fitting at Ma Cherie. He doesn’t do subtle, does he? It’s literally called My Darling.”
“Apparently not.” I shrugged, trying to appear unfazed and worldly.
Sophisticated. Like I wasn’t having heart palpitations after catching just a glimpse of some of these prices on my way in.
“I kind of thought he might come, but he isn’t.
He said something about a meeting. I feel like it’s probably safer for me this way. ”
Mercedes grinned. “Yeah, I don’t think he would’ve appreciated a chaperone.”
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
She stopped rifling for a moment and turned to face me, both of her eyebrows raising as she held my gaze. “You really don’t know? Oh, my God, Ella. How do you not know? Have you not, like, Googled him? It’s called the Internet and I know that you know how it works. Why haven’t you used it?”
“He’s my professor, Mercedes. I didn’t want to invade his privacy by looking him up. Besides, I don’t really want to know anything other than the fact that he’s paying me to be his date to a wedding. But, uh, what exactly do I need to know?”
She picked up her champagne from an intricately carved wooden stand beside her that I would have loved to have in my shop.
After taking a long swig, she ran a hand through her hair, her eyes taking on a faraway glaze for beat.
“To be fair, I haven’t looked him up either, but I’ve heard about him. Kody has mentioned him on occasion.”
Butterflies erupted in my stomach. “And?”
“And he’s been playing the field big time since his divorce. Rumor has it that he’s a total sex machine. Plus, he’s rich, gorgeous, and infuriatingly confident. Believe me, I know the type, since I married one. Just be careful with him, okay?”
Nervous laughter bubbled out of me. “Duly noted, but I’m not falling in love with him. I’m just going to a wedding. One night. That’s it.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, giving me a skeptical look.
“That’s exactly what they all say, but billionaires are a different breed.
Some are super easy to fall in love with, even if you don’t mean for it to happen.
Look at Kody and me, for example. Being engaged has been awesome and I love that man more than anything, but at least I knew what I was getting into with him. ”
I rolled my eyes. “This is nothing like you and Kody, but fine. If it makes you happy, I’ll promise to be careful.
My date is a rich, dangerously charming sex machine, and if I don’t get away from him before the clock strikes precisely twelve, I won’t be able to stop myself from falling in love with him while he rails me from behind.
Like only a real charming sex machine would. ”
“I absolutely did not phrase it that way, but yes, you got the general spirit.” She sighed, her head shaking before she held a navy blue number out to me. “Make fun of me for it if you want, but try this on while you’re doing it. It’s classic but still sexy. You’ll look amazing.”
I took it from her and headed into the fitting room.
As soon as I stepped into the dress and did up the zipper at my side, the soft fabric hugged my curves like nothing else ever had.
Once I’d adjusted my boobs in the sweetheart neckline and smoothed out the skirt, even I could admit that it looked damn good.
The contrast between the navy blue and my hair was striking, the combination somehow making the green of my eyes pop.
I bit my lip as I tried to hold back an excited squeal.
I might not be getting dressed up to fall in love, but getting dressed up in something like this was a pretty invigorating experience all of its own. I took a selfie, feeling myself.
“Damn, girl,” Mercedes said as I stepped out the fitting room, her gaze sweeping over me from head to toe and back again. “You look unreal. Kody and I started at a wedding, you know. If you wear that dress, Holden won’t stand a chance.”
“I’m telling you, this is nothing like you and Kody,” I said, turning side to side in front of the mirror, watching as the silk caught the light. “You two are adorable. You’re soulmates. You finish each other’s sentences.”
“You keep saying that it’s not like me and Kody, but Holden could be your soulmate. It’s not like some kind of magic neon sign flashes above his head as soon as you meet, saying this is the one. It’s a process.”
“Sure, I get that, but you and Kody are perfect together. Holden and I would be like fire and ice. He’s paying me fifty grand to pretend to be his date, specifically not to fall in love with him. The arrogance!”
“Fifty grand? For one night? You didn’t tell me it was that much.” She whistled. “Girl, that’s not a date. That’s a miracle.”
I laughed and stepped back into the fitting room. For the next thirty minutes, I tried on every dress Mercedes stuck through the crack in the curtain. I snapped selfies of each. How many times would I actually get an opportunity like this? I needed to commemorate the occasion.
By the last one, I honestly couldn’t decide which one to go with. They were all gorgeous.
I groaned. “I can’t pick. These are all amazing.”
Mercedes popped her head around the curtain and grinned. “Ask the billionaire. I’m sure he has opinions. They always do.”
Rolling my eyes, I sent him a few of the pics I’d taken in the mirror—and tried not to overthink it.
Me: Which one?
His response didn’t take long.
Prof Holden: You look amazing in all of them, but I’m partial to the blue one.
I smiled before I could stop myself.
Me: Thanks, I’ll buy that one, then.
I tucked my phone away, ignoring the flutter in my stomach.
I picked up my regular clothes and slowly changed back into them.
All these dresses had made me feel like a princess and I couldn’t wait to tell my mom about the fitting.
I was also excited for Holden to actually see me in the navy blue one.
I was absolutely not admitting that to Mercedes, though.
Fire and ice, I reminded myself. A business arrangement that ends with me being fifty grand richer. That’s all this is.
After giving myself a quick, stern pep talk about it, I was just about to step out of the dressing room when my phone buzzed again.
Prof Holden: Buy the green one too. Wear it to dinner with me tonight. We should get to know each other before we pretend to be a couple in public.
I stared at the screen for a second, my pulse quickening. Dinner. Tonight. With the dangerously charming sex machine.
“Everything okay in there?” Mercedes called from outside. “Things have gone really quiet on your side of the door.”
“Uh, yeah. All good,” I said. “Just, uh, apparently, I have a dinner date with him now too.”
“With the billionaire?”
I sighed. “Yeah. With the billionaire.”
Mercedes whooped. “God, I love this for you. Dibs on the maid of honor spot.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Stop.”
“No, I’ll never stop believing that true love finds people when they least expect it.” Her eyes sparkled with joy. “It happened to me and it will happen for you. If not with Holden, then with someone. I just know it.”
“Thanks.” I appreciated her excitement. I did. It was just that deep down, I didn’t quite know what to think about this. It made sense that we should at least appear mildly comfortable with one another by the time we got to a wedding, but he’d never mentioned dinner before.
So why the change of heart?
When I got back to the apartment, the place was quiet. Mom was asleep, her soft snores drifting down the hall, and Bree was at the table, her laptop open and a mug of tea beside her.
Her eyes lit up when she saw the garment bags draped over my arm. “Oh my gosh, you went shopping?”
“Yep. Although I was mostly sweating and trying not to faint at the prices while my friend passed me dresses. It wasn’t so much shopping as it was trying on.”
Bree stood and peeked into the bags. “These are gorgeous. What’s the occasion? Are you getting married and you forget to tell me?”
I laughed. “For what these things cost, I probably should wear one of them again when I get married, but it’s not that. I’m just going to dinner tonight. With my professor.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, you little devil. Working on some extra credit?”
“No, absolutely not. It’s not like that. It’s… complicated.”
“Mm-hmm,” she said, smirking as she unzipped one of the bags. “Well, complicated looks fantastic in silk. Sit. I’m doing your hair and makeup. I’ll get you an A. Don’t worry.”
“Bree, really, it’s not like that.”
“No arguing. Didn’t you say your professor is some big shot businessman?”
“Yeah?”
“Exactly. If you’re having dinner with a guy like that, you’re not showing up looking like you just crawled out of a donation bin.”
I chuckled and gave in, motioning her to my bedroom. I sat down obediently while she plugged in a curling iron. Somehow, this fake date was suddenly starting to feel a lot more real than it should. Bree seemed as excited as Mercedes had been. Me? I was just getting nervous.
“Okay, let’s see what we’re working with,” she said, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “While we’re doing that, you can tell me exactly what it’s like when things are complicated with your professor. How on earth did you wind up having a date with him?”
I gave her a look in the mirror. “It’s not a date date. It’s strictly business.”
She grinned. “Uh-huh. And I strictly eat salads for dinner. With a hamburger on the side.”
I laughed despite myself. “I’m serious. He’s just paying me to be his plus-one to a wedding. That’s all.”
She started curling sections of my hair.
“Well, whatever is or isn’t going on with you and your teacher, it’s nice getting to do this again.
I have two little sisters who used to let me practice on them.
Makeup. Hair. The works. They’d sit on the bathroom counter and let me turn them into beauty queens. ”
“It looks like they trained you well,” I said, watching as she held my hair in a gentle grip. “I’ve never been great at fixing myself up.”
“I’m rusty, but it feels good to fuss over someone again in a non-work context,” she admitted. “I haven’t had time for much fun lately. Between school and work, my idea of excitement is getting a full night’s sleep for a change.”
“Well, then tonight, you get to live vicariously through me. I’ll tell you everything that happens tonight.”
Bree grinned. “That sounds like a plan. Now stop fidgeting. You’re about to become the fantasy girlfriend of a billionaire. I can’t have you blinking mascara everywhere.”
“For the last time, I’m not becoming his girlfriend. It’s not romantic at all. Why does everyone keep thinking that’s what it is?”
Bree arched her eyebrow and flicked a hand toward the garment bag. “With dresses like those, honey, he’s going to fall in love with you before the appetizers even arrive. Trust me.”