Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Vivian was waiting downstairs for Rachel at the ungodly hour of seven o’clock on Friday morning. From the grin on her face, it was clear she was thrilled to be going shopping. As Rachel drew closer, Vivian produced a black American Express card from out of her purse and waved it in the air. “Credit cards at the ready? Let’s go do some damage.”
Rachel winced at the sight of the limitless credit card in Vivian’s hand. Matthew’s Amex card was in her own purse. He’d given it to her just before he left for work this morning. She found the whole spending thing deeply embarrassing, but Matthew had insisted. “I’ll be in the office for most of the day, so go have fun. Vivian has been looking forward to this shopping expedition all week, so you can’t disappoint her.”
Following a long lingering kiss, his parting words to Rachel had been. “I’ll be keeping tabs on your spend during the day, so I’ll know if you are holding back on treating yourself.”
Outside on the chilly New York street a sleek black town car was waiting. As soon as they climbed in, Vivian handed Rachel a piece of paper. “A list of the places I’ve chosen for us to visit today. The boys’ cousin, Camille, who is a fashion designer, added in a couple of extras. She’s going to meet us at Saks Fifth Avenue later this morning.”
Rachel puffed out her cheeks. She had to get this off her chest. “I just want you to understand that I’m a little bit uncomfortable about spending Matthew’s money.”
Vivian nodded. “Noted. But now you have to let it go. The first dress Bryce bought me was worth more than a year of my rent. I resisted the whole pampering and spoiling thing. Coming from Queens it wasn’t something I found easy to get used to, but in time I did. Our first real fight was over me not buying any new clothes for a month. I kid you not, Bryce was really angry. It took me awhile to get used to the concept that the Royals expect you to dress to a similar level as them. What can I say?” She lifted her hands. “Welcome to Planet Billionaire. If you are going to stick around, which I hope you will, you’re going to have to get comfortable with this kind of lifestyle.”
She’d lived among the rich of Atlanta and it was true, rich people did live on another planet. These billionaires had their own space toys, so why not their own planet?
Planet Billionaire, that’s freakin hilarious.
With her background, Rachel understood the social pressure to dress to a certain standard. But in the past when she’d done that, she’d been spending her own money. Having a man buy clothes for her didn’t sit right.
He wanted to buy her things, so she was going to have to put “Little Miss Independent” on ice for the weekend.
“You are Matthew’s guest, which makes you being comfortable around his family his priority. His responsibility. This sounds old fashioned, but how you dress reflects on him. And new clothes will allow you to move freely among the rest of the Royal family without feeling out of place.”
Rachel couldn’t fault Vivian’s logic. She was going to have let her reservations go. Accept Matthew’s generosity as being part of who he was and be grateful to have such a gorgeous man in her life, a man who wanted to spoil her.
“Okay. Let’s go have some retail fun.”
As the personal shopper at Cult Gaia whisked Matthew’s black Amex away and went to wrap their purchases, Rachel slipped her cell out of her purse.
If I get hangry, I’m blaming you
#sorrynotsorry
Her plans to grab a quick breakfast before heading out with Vivian had been foiled by the presence of a male leg hooking around her knee and holding her in bed. She’d been unable to resist Matthew’s kisses and demands for morning sex.
Giving Bryce over the joke. His face
“Oh no, don’t do that,” whispered Rachel, lifting her gaze to find Vivian checking over her shoulder and reading the screen of her phone.
It was just after ten and they’d been at the designer statement store for an hour. Rachel had lost count of the number of beachwear pieces she’d tried on. Vivian, who she’d quickly come to realize was a near Olympian‐level shopper, had thrust garment after garment through the door of the dressing room insisting that Rachel tried on each and every one.
“Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t eaten? You poor girl, you must be starving,” said Vivian.
Rachel held a hand to her forehead, and swayed like she was about to faint. “I don’t think I have the strength to try on any more clothes, not without an emergency muffin and flat white coffee inside me.”
Her friendly shopping fiend raised an eyebrow at Rachel’s terrible acting skills, but she seemed to take pity. “Okay, just a minute.” Vivian lifted her phone to her ear and after having a quick conversation with someone, ended the call with a cheery, “Thanks, see you shortly.”
“Our driver will have coffees and some snacks waiting for us as soon as we leave the store. What’s the thing about the bear joke?”
“I met a family of bears on the walking trail at the lodge. The mama bear wasn’t happy to see me. And I can tell you, the feeling was mutual.”
Vivian lay a hand on Rachel’s arm. “Oh my god. And Bryce cracked that gag about bears eating Matthew. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright. Lucky for me the mountain rescue people were out in their chopper, and they winched me to safety.”
The shopping assistant returned and handed Rachel back the black Amex card. She could have sworn the card was sucking in air from having been worked so hard.
I don’t think I want to look at the store receipt.
Her final purchase count at Cult Gaia was fifteen garments, including a skimpy gold cut out design which had Rachel thanking herself for having kept up with her bikini line maintenance right through the chills of the Colorado weather.
There were four resort wear dresses along with a fabulous sunhat, the price of which Rachel had erased from her memory once she’d read it. Who knew that a wide brimmed straw hat could cost that much?
“Your bags have been delivered to your town car by the concierge service, Ms. Royal.”
Rachel opened her mouth ready to correct the woman on her relationship status, but a quick glance from Vivian stopped her.
“I’ll just take those few items on the rack, thank you,” said Vivian. She handed over Bryce’s credit card.
While the assistant rang up the purchases, Vivian turned back to Rachel. “All the stores know we are coming today. And as much as it spins my head at times, the name Royal on the credit card is all that matters.”
Rachel tapped a quick message to Matthew on her phone.
your Amex card and U
Keep up strength
Viv is under my orders
“Yes, I am, and we are on a tight schedule, so let’s finish up here,” said Vivian pointing at Rachel’s phone. She seemed to have an endless amount of energy.
“Saks Fifth Avenue is next, and cousin Camille will be waiting for us there. She’ll no doubt have some beautiful pieces chosen for you. But you’ll still need something special to wear for the wedding ceremony, so after Saks, we have an appointment at Carolina Herrera. The European Royals will be expecting to see us wearing American elegance, so the grand dame of New York City is a safe bet. I’m also picking up my dress from there.”
Rachel sent the message to Matthew, then dropped her cell into her purse.
More clothes? We are only going to be on the island for a few days.
The three dresses she’d already bought at the Tory Burch store in nearby Mercer Street, would be more than acceptable for a guest to wear to an Atlanta wedding. But clearly not high fashion enough for the Royals.
I keep forgetting this is a billionaire wedding.
Courtesy of their earlier visit to Bergdorf Goodman, Rachel already had more new panties and bras than she would need for the rest of her life. Eight boxes of shoes also graced the trunk of the town car which was parked out front.
Rachel could have wept when she caught sight of the fresh cups of coffee and the elegant platter of snacks which were waiting for them when they reached the car.
Hallelujah. Food.
Vivian climbed in after her and reached for a crustless chicken sandwich. “It’s not that far to Saks Fifth Avenue, where we are going to meet up with Camille Royal, so we will have to eat and drink fast.”
Rachel was secretly excited to meet the French designer who had created many of the pieces for Chloe Fisher’s Las Vegas residency. She knew her work well.
But these people don’t need to know I went to see Chloe’s Vegas show five times.
“What else do we have on the schedule for the rest of today?” asked Rachel. With some food and coffee now in her system she felt better equipped to keep up with Vivian.
Vivian opened up her cell and scrolled through her diary. “After we’ve sorted out our wedding outfits, we have lunch reservations at Balthazar in SOHO for two o’clock, after which we only have two more places to visit. Then, I have champagne and some nibbles due to arrive at the apartment just before five. Bryce and Matthew will be joining us around six.” She clicked off her phone and dropped it into her purse. “And that should see us done and dusted. Tomorrow the four of us will be on our way to the Caribbean, with plenty of time to arrive and rest up before the pre-wedding celebrations.”
Rachel hadn’t ever been to a wedding where she wasn’t connected to at least one of the bridal couple. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Whose wedding is this we are going to? I don’t know anyone in the Royal family outside of the three of you, but it just seems a bit odd that no one has mentioned the bride or the groom by name.”
The effusive Vivian suddenly quieted. “Just a member of the family,” she said, fiddling nervously with her diamond engagement ring. “They like to keep these things private.” She raised her head and briefly met Rachel’s gaze. “Once we get to the island tomorrow, I’m sure Matthew will tell you everything.”
From the way Vivian spoke, it was clear she didn’t think it was her place to say anything more. Rachel let her question go unanswered. She could wait until tomorrow.
But she couldn’t wait to finish the coffee and snacks.
Camille Royal met them in a private shopping room at Saks Fifth Avenue. She and Vivian immediately embraced, before Vivian stepped back and made introductions.
“Camille this is Rachel, she is Matthew’s guest for the wedding. ”
Rachel took one look at Camille’s lilac suit and coordinating white pussy bow blouse and declared herself smitten all over again.
And I thought she’d been a genius with what she did with Chloe’s concert clothes.
The colors of Camille’s suit worked amazingly well with the designer’s lightly sun kissed completion and long blond hair. “Oh, my god, I love your outfit,” gushed Rachel.
Camile wiggled her shoulders and smiled. “This is from my next season’s collection. I wanted to make something that was both feminine and rocked the board room. I’m so glad that shoulder pads are back.”
A girl couldn’t go wrong with a pussy bow blouse. And Rachel had always had a weakness for shoulder pads.
“So you are Matthew’s date for the wedding. And you are an architect. Beauty and brains. He is a lucky man.” She gave Rachel a conspiratorial wink. “You have to let me design your wedding gown.”
Rachel didn’t know where to look. From the way his family spoke about her and Matthew, it seemed they’d already decided that a wedding was inevitable.
“Thank you. Matthew and I are working together on a project, and it was lovely of him to invite me to share in a Royal family event. But I’m not so sure that we should be sending out any save‐the‐date cards, just yet.”
Camille frowned. “Save the date?”
“It’s what Americans do when they have set the date for their wedding. They send out cards to their friends and family letting them know to keep the date free so they can attend,” explained Vivian. “Bryce and I are trying to settle on our date but squeezing in a wedding in between multiple resort launches is proving a bit tricky.”
“I see. In France you pick up the phone and call your family and friends. Or in the case of our extended family, you suddenly find that your personal diary has been blocked out by your mother, and you don’t get to ask why,” replied Camille.
Rachel was sorely tempted to ask Camille as to who was getting married on the Sunday, but she held her tongue. Must not ask. Must not ask.
Ohhh, but the suspense is killing me! All this secrecy.
The door of the private fitting salon opened and a sales assistant dragging a fully laden garment rack behind her, entered. Camille pointed to where she wanted the rack to be placed. “Over there, merci.”
Rachel glanced at the clothes, and her heart sank. She loved shopping as much as the next woman, but this trip had turned into a full-scale cross‐continent expedition.
Camille took a step back from Rachel and gave her a slow looking up and down. “Turn for me, s'il vous pla?t.”
Rachel’s private school French might be a bit rusty, but she was keen to speak it. Anything to get out of having to try on all those clothes. “Vas-tu me faire essayer tous ces vêtements?”
A huff of disgust escaped the designer lips. “Oui, I had planned to make you try them all on, but …” Hands on hips, she glared at Vivian. “Have you dragged this poor girl to every major fashion store in New York this morning?”
Vivian nodded, she was not the least bit contrite. “Yes, and we still have more to go after this store.” She held up two fingers. “I was given strict instructions by two Royal males that I was to take Rachel shopping today. The credit card bill will be checked long before we get home.”
Camille laughed and clapped her hands together. “The American Royals do love to spoil their women. But perhaps I can take pity on poor Rachel, and just take her measurements. That will dramatically cut down the amount of outfits she has to try on. ”
She produced a measuring tape from out of her pants pocket and Rachel wasted no time in removing her coat and sweater.
“I’m sorry, I meant no offence, Vivian” offered Rachel.
“None taken,” replied Vivian, dropping into a nearby comfy chair. “My old roommate Grace, who is a dedicated follower of fashion, refuses to go to more than three stores with me before she starts demanding we stop for lunch.”
The coffee and cookie I inhaled in the town car might just see me through to two o’clock.
“Take off your clothes but leave your undergarments on. Then come stand over here while I take your measurements.” Camille pointed to a spot in the middle of the room. “I promise to make this as painless as possible.”
Vivian and Rachel exchanged grins while Camille flicked hurriedly through the rack of garments, all the while muttering a long string of inaudible words in French. Every so often she stopped and pulled something from the stand and dropped it on the floor. Each time she did this, her assistant gasped in horror and quickly bent to pick it up.
When she reached the end of the clothes rack, Camille bundled the remaining pieces up in her arms and carried them over to Rachel.
“Are there any colors you don’t wear?”
Rachel shook her head. There wasn’t a chance of her offering any sort of opinion at this point. In the presence of such designing greatness she would wear whatever she was told to wear.
Camille now sorted the rest of the clothes into two neat piles. She pointed at the smallest of them. “Try those on.”
In response to some secret-coded cue, the assistant collected up the larger pile of clothes. “All of these Camille?”
“Oui. And if these other final pieces fit, they will also come. ”
There had to be at least twenty pieces in the small pile, and heavens knew how many in the bigger one.
We can’t be buying all of this. No. Oh, boy. Matthew will have a fit.
Vivian got to her feet and casually made her way over to Rachel’s purse. She reached in and pulled out Matthew’s credit card, then handed it to the assistant. “Matthew was most insistent that everything went on his card.”
Where am I going to put all this stuff?
“I don’t think my suitcase can fit this amount of clothes,” said Rachel taking the first dress from out of Camille’s hand.
The French designer gave her a comforting pat on the arm. “It’s all right, mon ami, I’ve already arranged for a trunk-style suitcase to go on dear cousin Matthew’s credit card. If you are going to date a wealthy man, you must have matching luggage.”
This really was Planet Billionaire.