Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Why I want him to want me.
You’re the only woman I’ve thought about since that night.
“Don’t be stupid,” I tell myself, dropping my comb back into the backpack and taking the makeup bag into the bathroom to wash my face and put on a little makeup while I wait for room service.
I think about what he said. About wanting people to know I’m his. To smell him on me. You can’t smell that can you? I sniff at myself, but feel stupid to do it. Of course you can’t smell it.
By the time I’ve applied minimal makeup, my food is delivered. I ask them to pull the cart into the bedroom because it feels weird to eat while two soldiers stand watching. I eat the pancakes mostly to kill time and when I can’t put it off any longer, I go into the living room.
“Are you ready?” one of the soldiers asks.
I nod and they open the door. One goes ahead to call the elevator and I watch the nearly empty beach as we descend.
Once down where the shops and restaurants are, things are lively, but not overwhelming. The interiors of the shops are brightly lit, and people are having fun and when I spot a toy store that makes me feel like Alice in Wonderland, I decide to pick something up for Daniel. Cassian did say whatever I wanted so why not?
The woman behind the counter greets me, noting the two men standing at the entrance. I ask about the train set in the window. It’s nice, very nice, and when I tell her I’ll take it and to put it on Cassian’s account, she almost salivates. She hurries to pack it up and I understand why when I get a peek at the price tag.
“I’ll have it sent up to Mr. Trevino’s room,” she says.
“Thank you.”
Daniel will love it. Now, I’ll need something for Amal, which is easy because the shop right next door is a cosmetics shop. I smile, knowing exactly what Amal will like, and I pick up a basket. The soldiers stand uneasily at the door as I weave around the aisles and grab pallets of eye shadow and too many eyeliners and lipsticks to count. Amal loves makeup so why not?
I don’t even blink when they ring up my purchases and I ask them to send them up to Mr. Trevino’s room as well.
My last stop is the boutique to buy a dress. Elenora’s is a few shops down and I know she’s expecting me when she opens the door before I even have a chance to.
“Ms. Moretti, welcome!” she says, her Italian accent heavy. She barely looks at the soldiers. “I’ve arranged everything.”
“Thank you,” I say as she locks the door behind me.
“You two can wait here,” she tells the soldiers, pointing to a sofa. She says it with such authority, they only glance at each other and sit as she leads me through a curtain to a back area. “I’ve already chosen several dresses. I know what Cassian likes,” she says and signals for me to follow her.
I notice how she uses his first name, not Mr. Trevino like the others, and look at her with a new interest. She’s in her early thirties, I’d guess. A few years older than Cassian, but not much. And she’s very attractive. Very sophisticated. Very European. I don’t want to be intimidated, but I admit, I am.
I clear my throat, wishing I’d applied more makeup and wasn’t wearing combat boots while she’s in her Versace pumps.
“He was right about the size,” she says, appraising me as we walk through the burgundy velvet curtains that fall heavily closed behind me. This part of the shop contains a comfortable sofa before a slightly raised platform where a three-way mirror stands. On either side of the mirror are curtained off dressing rooms. I notice the tray of various bottles of liquor, too many brands of whiskey to count.
“I hope you like the selection. He mentioned red…” she trails off as she pulls a rack forward.
“They’re beautiful,” I say, meaning it as she holds one dress then another up. “A little showy for me, though. Do you have something black?”
“Cassian said red.”
“Cassian’s not the one who has to wear it,” I say with a smile. “Black please.”
“Why don’t you start with these,” she says, clearly disappointed. “But I’ll see what I can find. Right in here.” She carries the first of the dresses into one of the dressing rooms and I follow her, noticing the shoes already lined up to go with the dresses. I guess she’s seeing a big payday.
“Sure,” I say. “Maybe not so plunging a neckline for the black dress.”
“Of course.” She draws the curtain closed and I stand before the mirror inside the room that’s about the size of Daniel’s bedroom. I drop down onto the chair to untie my laces wondering what I’m doing, what we’re doing, playing dress-up. Because what is this? My brother owes Cassian money. A lot of money. I’m collateral. And my time is just about up. So why am I here trying on dresses like this is some movie where he’s the hero and I’m the heroine? Like we’ll fall in love and live happily ever after.