Chapter Twelve
Iris
The best type of therapy is shoe shopping.
At least for me.
After everything I’ve been through and the uphill battle coming my way, I deserve to splurge a little with my first-ever salary.
Seth drives me to an area of the city known for high-end fashion and luxurious brands’ stores.
I’ve always come here with Rosalie and Bianca, browsing but never being able to purchase anything.
I refused to let them buy things for me, despite their insistence, because I wanted to be their friend and not their charity case. It would’ve felt that way otherwise.
They respected my wishes. Except on my birthdays. They would drown me in gifts, not taking no for an answer.
Today, I won’t look at the price tag and walk away. I can afford them without having to sell my kidneys.
“I’m just going to look around,” I tell Seth, who’s shadowing me with vigilant eyes while walking three steps behind.
He nods in acknowledgment.
Hefting my tote bag higher, I skip to the high-end footwear store and enter it. Two of the sales associates’ gazes flit over to me. I smile at them, expecting a bright welcome they offer whenever I come with my best friends.
It doesn’t come.
They straighten from their perch against the billing register and inspect me from head to toe as though I’m a pariah who stumbled out of a portal.
“Yes?” one of them utters flatly.
“We’re not hiring at the moment,” snootily says the second salesgirl.
“Excuse me?” I reply, frowning. I glance at my reflection in the mirror. I’m dressed in a casual pair of jeans and a plain black cropped tee. “I’m here to shop for heels for a lunch party next week.”
Their faces perk up, and the first one asks excitedly, “For Mrs. D’Cruz or Mrs. Stern?”
“Are you their assistant?”
My jaw drops at their audacity as they assume I work for my best friends from all the times I’ve visited here. I didn’t think they could be this rude, that the thought of me being a customer is too unbelievable for them.
Do I look that poor?
I suddenly feel self-conscious, my exhilaration dwindling by the second.
“No, I’m here to shop for myself,” I answer them. “I’m going to look around.”
Ignoring their upturned noses, I turn away from them, intent on finding the high-heeled D’Orsay pumps I saw a few months ago and promptly leaving them. They’ll go perfectly with the cocktail gown I bought for Rosalie’s grand celebration. It’s both an opening ceremony as well as for raising funds.
As I’m browsing the stunning selection they have, a trio of girls around my age enter the store.
They’re all dressed in expensive short dresses with an air of confidence around them that only comes from having a rich daddy.
In short, they look like they belong here, unlike yours truly.
The glaring proof comes when those same salesgirls greet them with eager little grins, offering them drinks and asking if they could help.
On the last shelf, I catch the pair of heels that I haven’t stopped thinking about for months. Rushing toward it, I pick it off the display and sigh in admiration.
Gosh! They’re stunning.
A shiny metallic fuchsia color. Five-inch heel. A complete showstopper.
Turning it over, I check if they’re in my size and become giddy when they are. Walking over to the sofa, I put them on.
“Gorgeous,” a sweet voice utters.
My head snaps toward the girl sitting beside me. She’s from the group of friends. “Thanks. I’ve been wanting these for months now.”
“They look lovely.” She sighs dreamily, staring at my feet.
Grinning, I stand up and walk closer to the mirror.
Looking at the heels, I fall in love. Quickly snapping a picture, I text it to my group chat with Rosalie and Bianca.
Locking my phone, I trot back to the sofa and switch back to my sneakers.
Grabbing my purse from the side, I make my way to the billing register with the heels in hand.
“I would like to buy these,” I say to the cashier, grateful the salesgirls aren’t around.
“Cash or card?”
“Card.” I pass it to her. “Here.”
I’m spending half my salary, but it’s so worth it. As soon as the man hands me the bag, I move toward the electric doors.
A shrill siren pierces my eardrums as I take a step outside. I’m confused as to what’s happening when suddenly the shoe bag and tote are yanked from my arms. A security guard glares at me, blocking my exit.
“What are you doing?” I cry out.
Passing my items to the mean salesgirl, who has a smug look on her face, the security man says, “Ma’am, we need to check your purse.”
It dawns on me that the siren was a warning meant for a shoplifter.
“You’re mistaken. I paid for those heels,” I defend. “I have the bill.”
“What about this pair, hmm?”
I stare in horror as the salesgirl dangles a different pair from inside my purse. “I didn’t take it. I swear.”
“Yeah, right,” she sneers.
“I… I’ve no idea how they got there…” I trail off, distracted by a giggling noise from my right. It’s those three girls, laughing behind their hands. While the one who complimented me smirks.
Oh my god! She did it.
“Call the police.”
“What? No!” I yell, alarm rattling me. “I didn’t steal them.”
“What’s going on?” a menacing Seth demands, appearing out of thin air. “Miss Mannan?”
Before I can answer, the uppity salesgirl beats me to it. “She stole shoes. You can bail her out once the cops take her.”
Mortified, I stammer, “She’s lying, Seth. I would never.”
“If she says didn’t, she didn’t,” he states to the guard and the staff. “Check the footage and show proof before you go accusing someone.”
The girl’s face blanches.
Panic descends on the trio of teen girls, and they slip past us without a word before I can blame them. I want to get out of here with a little bit of dignity intact.
The security guard goes into the back with Seth on his heels to check the surveillance footage. Something I should’ve thought of.
My cheeks burn the longer I stand at the entrance like a criminal on trial.
Ten minutes later, Seth returns. Snagging my purse and the shoes I bought from the counter, he storms my way, and clips out, “We can leave.”
“What’s happening?” the girl says.
“Another customer put those in her purse,” I hear the guard explain as we exit the store.
Walking over to the parking lot, Seth opens the door and I slide inside. Once he takes the wheel, I quietly say, “Please don’t tell Kian.”
Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror, and he replies, “I have to report everything to him, Miss Mannan.”
Dejected, I lean my head against the back seat and shut my eyes for the rest of the drive. During the ride, I fall asleep.
When I come to, strong arms are lifting me out of the car. I flutter my eyelids open, trailing my gaze up a throat visible over the open collar and a square jaw. For a second, I think I’m hallucinating until I inhale the familiar woodsy scent and realize Kian is here.
He should be at the office.
“Kian?”
My sleepy voice draws his attention to my face. The crease between his brows disappears. The dark fury he’s shielding takes longer.
“Seth told you,” I state.
A muscle tics in his jaw. “I’m going to handle it.”
“No.” I fist his shirt. “It was a misunderstanding.”
“I saw the footage.” His tone is seething. “They didn’t treat you right, even before the whole thing happened. I am not letting it slide.”
“There’s no point.” The elevator closes once we’re inside. “I honestly want to forget about the whole incident.”
Judgmental people are never worth spending energy on. It shows their upbringing.
“Please, love,” I softly coax when he doesn’t budge. “Let it go.”
“I will once they apologize to you.”
“I don’t want to see them again.”
“Then they’ll write you one,” he says authoritatively. “We’re going to return the heels. I’ll buy you another pair.”
“Okay.” They’re tainted anyways. Exhausted, I rest my face against his chest and let him carry me upstairs.
***
The next morning, I arrive at the conference room on the floor below ours. My gait falters, noticing the meeting has already begun through the glass walls.
Am I late? Pretty sure Kian said it was at ten. I’m ten minutes early.
I quicken my pace.
The meeting was organized by the acquisitions and mergers department. However, it was nowhere in Kian’s calendar when I checked. So, I have no idea what it is about.
Kian sits at the head of the table. Noticing me outside, he invites me inside with a nod. Pushing open the door, I enter the room and take the empty chair on his right.
There are two people from our department, while the other three are new. Two men dressed in crisp suits and a woman in a black formfitting dress sit on the opposite side. She appears to be the leader. Everyone has a file spread open in front of them, seeming to go over points.
A negotiation is happening.
Curious what Kinetic Securities is investing in, I sneak a glance at Kian’s file. The brand’s logo gives me pause and I blink to ensure I’m reading it correctly.
Sole Symphony .
It’s one of the country’s top luxury women’s footwear brands.
Why would Kian be…
“There’s only one term left to discuss,” says the woman, glancing at Kian. “The brand ambassador. You asked for someone specifically.”
“Yes,” he answers in a commanding voice. “Miss Iris Mannan here will be the ambassador for the launch of the new line.”
If I wasn’t sitting, I’d be falling on my ass right now.
I told him not to do anything about the shoplifting incident, to which he agreed.
Less than a day later, he’s buying their biggest competitor.
I haven’t even processed the news when he twists his chair in my direction, and asks, “Do you want to add anything, Iris?”
Fuck me sideways.
Is this for real?
I am too stunned to say anything, as though I swallowed my tongue. The entire table’s attention is on me.
“Give us a moment,” he orders others everyone without lifting his eyes off me.
They all file out.
Drawing the blinds for privacy, he tugs my chair closer to his. Trapping my legs between his, he skims his hands up my thighs. “Did you not like the surprise?”
“I didn’t think you’d buy an entire company when you said you were gonna get me a new pair of heels,” I cry out.
“One wouldn’t have been enough.”
“You’re insane.”
“For spoiling my woman?” he teases, husky and sweet. “I’ve barely begun.”
“I know nothing about being an ambassador. Don’t they need to be a celebrity?” I sigh. “I’m a nobody.”
“No.” He grabs my chin, looking at me sternly. “Don’t ever call yourself a nobody. You have no idea how gorgeous you are, Rainbow. They’ll be lucky to have you as the face of their brand. Be confident.”
“This is all so surreal.” Bewildered, I ask, “How did you even make this happen?”
“I asked my team to put together a proposal yesterday and make an offer.”
“They said yes that easily?”
“It was a generous offer.”
“How much?” I keep my tone casual.
His gaze narrows. “Nice try.”
Tracing his knuckles, I softly mention, “This is your hard-earned money you’re spending, love. I appreciate you wanting to spoil me. But I’ll be just as happy if you gift me a single pair.”
“Look at me.”
I do.
“I know the simple gestures make you the happiest. When I make you tea, kiss and hug you, when we have movie nights.” A dirty grin curls his mouth.
“Or when I wake you up with my mouth on your sweet cunt.” I blush, and it deepens as he says, “But I have finally found someone to spoil, so don’t try to stop me.
I know you love me for me, not for my wealth. ”
I nod, fighting tears.
He smiles. Dimples and all. “I’m going to call them back inside and we’re going to sign the deal. Okay?”
“Okay.”