Billionaire's Tragedy (Standalone Book) (Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (11 page)

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

Olivia

The
next afternoon, I stood at Bix's door at precisely one o'clock and rang the
bell. Bix answered with a smile and a plate containing a sandwich, carrot
sticks, and apple slices. She held the plate out as she said, "Eat. I know
you haven't yet, and you're going to need to preserve your strength because
this is going to be grueling."

"Bix," I
protested as I took the plate. It was one of Bix's famous BLT sandwiches to
which she always added thin slices of Parmesan. I walked into the kitchen and
sat down on a stool before I grabbed half of the sandwich and took a huge bite.
"Mmmmm, mrph moo."

"Don't talk with
your mouth full, sweetie," Bix said and then giggled. "Oops, sorry.
I'm used to talking with small people all day. Sometimes it spills over."

"Oh, please, you
meant it," I laughed as I covered my mouth and continued chewing.
"You've never mistakenly scolded anyone in your life."

Bix shrugged and grinned
as she gathered her things and made a pile on the counter. She was wearing a
cranberry-colored cardigan with a crewneck sweater in the same color underneath
and a pair of black pants. On her feet was her holiday wardrobe statement, a
pair of black patent flats with cranberry-colored bows covered in Swarovski
crystals. I, on the other hand, was wearing an olive-colored army jacked with a
waffle thermal underneath, a pair of jeans that at one time were indigo but had
faded over time, and a pair of brown biker boots with my jeans tucked into the
tops. I guessed that if we got any assistance while shopping, it would be
because Bix looked like she knew what she was doing.

"Alright, while you
eat, I'm going to tell you about today's itinerary," Bix announced as she
consulted her tablet and tapped the screen several times. "We're going to
start at Murphy's, then we'll move to Lowman’s, and then Nordstrom's"

"Wait, we're going
to go to more than one place?" I said with a look of surprise. "I
thought we were just going to hit one shop and then be done with it. Maybe go
to a shoe store if we couldn't find what we needed at the mall."

"Olivia Jane Moore,
you disappoint me," Bix said disapprovingly. "This is the Washington
Christmas Gala, not some high school mixer! Of course, we're going to go to
more than one place. Now, I've marked a few styles that I think would look
lovely on you. This will not only improve our odds of success, but it will also
cut down on the amount of time you spend trying on dresses. I hope you wore
proper undergarments."

"When have you to
ever known me to wear proper undergarments?” I asked as I popped a slice of
apple into my mouth and chewed loudly just to annoy her. Then I grumbled,
"I don't even want to go to this thing, you know."

"Good point,"
she said as she tapped her screen a few more times and then looked up.
"Alright, I've added Lacy Lady as our first stop
And
,
not going is not an option. End of discussion."

"Oh God, no,
please," I protested. "Can't we just drop by Target and pick up a new
bra and underwear?"

The look Bix gave me told
me it was wise to I eat the rest of my lunch in silence. Bix proceeded to break
down the shopping into a manageable flow chart of activity in which she did
most of the work and I simply fulfilled the role of human Barbie. I had let Bix
boss me around most of our lives, so this wasn't anything different, but I was
resentful that I didn't really get to have a say in what I'd be trying on. I
sighed and then gave in; I knew it would be easier if I didn't fight because in
the end, Bix would win.

Once sufficiently fueled,
Bix called for a cab and we were on our way. We were dropped off outside of
Murphy's Bridal and I shot Bix a pleading look, which she completely ignored.
Once inside, I was forced to admit that her approach really did work. She
quickly narrowed down the gowns to a few that she thought would look flattering
on me, and nixed my suggestion that a jumpsuit would be the best bet because it
would show off my curves and give me pockets in which to carry my phone and keys.
The saleswoman quickly dismissed me as problematic, and before long, she and
Bix were discussing which shades of green would look best with my flame red
hair and whether I should have beading or just go plain and let my natural
beauty shine through.

"At that rate, you
should probably bring me a completely bead-encrusted gown," I quipped as
they exited the room after instructing me to try on their latest find. Bix shot
me a withering look before shutting the door. I knew when I'd been beaten, so I
shut my mouth and put the dress on. When I exited the fitting room for the
ninth time, both Bix and the saleswoman became excited. The dress, an emerald
green sleeveless gown, fit as if it had been made for me. It had a sweetheart
neckline and clung to my hips before flowing all the way to the floor in a
sweep of fabric. In the front, the dress had a slit that ran all the way up to
my mid-thigh when I extended my leg, but stayed closed when I stood still. It
felt like I was wearing a secret agent gown, and as I climbed onto the platform
in front of the mirror, I twirled a little and the hem of the gown lifted off
the floor and floated lightly in the current I'd created.

"I like this
one," I said. "I think we have a winner."

"I agree, it looks
gorgeous on you, Liv," Bix smiled. "With your hair, the green looks
amazing. But..."

The saleswoman nodded at
Bix as if they had communicated telepathically while I turned and looked at her
confused. A few moments later, the saleswoman came back with a handful of
garments in her hand and pulled me back to the dressing room. Once inside she
unzipped the dress and handed me a strapless bra. I quickly snapped the hooks
together, twisted it around, and pulled it up. The sales woman took one look at
me and shook her head before she reached into the bra and scooped up a breast
and situated it properly in the bra cup. And before I'd even uttered a word
about how totally inappropriate this was, she'd done the same thing with the
other breast and was pulling the bodice of the dress back up and zipping me in.

This time when I walked
out, I was rewarded with a gasp from Bix. I turned and stepped up onto the
platform again, and when I looked at myself, I inhaled sharply. The bra had
turned my breasts into two, perky globes whose tops just peeked out over the
edge of the neckline. I felt like a Hollywood star, and as I looked at myself
in the mirror, I started believing that I could look good enough to attend the
ball. Up to that point, I wasn't sure a reporter who, six months ago, had been
trekking through the African wilderness and sleeping in a tent could be turned
into a socialite for an evening. I should have trusted Bix's magical abilities.

"I like it,
Bix," I said quietly and she nodded as she grabbed the price tag and examined
it. "Please do not tell me it's out of my price range. Please, please,
please."

"Nope, it's all
good," she said as she palmed the tag and nodded to the saleswoman,
adding, "And, she'll need the bra, too."

"How much is
it?" I asked as the woman went to get the new bra.

"It's not important;
what's important is that it looks fantastic and you feel great in it," she
said cheerfully.

"Bix," I
warned. "How much?"

"It's on me,"
she smiled. "Look, Doug and I have more money than we know what to do with
and I don't want to leave it all to the kids. It'll spoil them and they'll end
up rich brats."

"Bix, I have
money," I protested. "And Frank said the paper would cover the cost
of my dress if it meant that I'd go to the gala."

"I don't think the
paper has this in its budget, darling," Bix said as she showed me the
price tag.

"Five thousand
dollars for a dress I'm going to wear once?" I shouted. "I do not
think so! Get your stuff, we're heading to the mall."

"Olivia, listen to
me," Bix said grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me lightly.
"Listen to me. This dress isn't just about the dress. This dress is also
about you finding your feet. You lost a lot in Africa, and your confidence has
been shaken, but it's time for you to gather yourself together and start over.
You can't live behind this wall you've built forever, you know."

I stared at Bix as she
spoke and I felt the tears begin to well up. She was right; I was guarded and
defensive, and I was scared of moving forward, but I was also terrified of
living in the past. The problem was that I couldn't find my footing long enough
to begin to climb out of the hole I'd dug. I nodded almost imperceptibly and
she hugged me.

"Good, you need
this, Liv. Let me do this for you, please?" she said softly. I nodded again
and she kissed my cheek. Then, she pulled back and said, "But we still
need shoes, hose, jewelry, and an appointment with a stylist. You have got to
have your hair professionally done, Liv."

"Fine, fine,
fine," I grumbled with a smile. "Whatever you say, Bix. You're the
boss. You know, always in charge."

"As it should be."
She grinned as she pulled out her tablet and tapped away at the screen.
"All right, I know where we need to go for shoes."

Once the dress was paid
for and wrapped up in layers of tissue paper, the saleswoman said she'd have it
delivered to Bix's house that afternoon. She handed Bix a swatch of fabric in
the color of the dress and her business card saying, "Go to Heinemann’s,
they'll have the perfect shoes. Tell Becky that I sent you."

At Heinemann’s, Bix
handed over the woman's card and were quickly whisked off into the back room
where we were offered wine and refreshments. I gave Bix a confused look, but
she just shrugged and smiled as Becky brought out box after box of pumps with
impossibly high heels. I knew there was no way I would survive the night in a
pair of five-inch stilettos, and I asked for something a little more
manageable. Becky waved me off, saying, "Oh, just give them a try! They're
really easy to walk in once you get used to them, and they make your legs and
butt look great!"

"Oh right, is that
so no one will notice that I've fallen and broken my leg?" I quipped as I
tried on a pair of silver, open-toed heels that, while too high, were perfect
for the dress. "Do you have these in a lower heel?"

"Actually, that's
one style that I do have in a lower heel!" Becky cried as she tore off to
retrieve the shoes. She came back holding the box triumphantly and then sat
down and slipped them on my feet. They fit perfectly, and when I stood up and
walked, I felt like I might actually have a shot at keeping my balance.

"Those look great,
Liv," Bix said. "How do they feel?"

"Like heels," I
said dryly before smiling and adding, “But at least I don't feel like I'm going
to go falling ass over elbows!"

"All right, then
we'll take the shoes," Bix nodded at Becky. I took them off and Becky
whisked them up to the front to be rung up and added to our booty.

"Is that it?" I
asked Bix. "Please let that be it."

"No, ma'am,"
Bix replied as she tapped away at the ever-present tablet. "One more stop
for jewelry. I've got a surprise for you."

"I'm going to wear
the Hope Diamond?"

"No, smart ass, but
I've got someone who is going to loan you some things that will make that dress
look even more amazing," she said with a raised eyebrow. "Unless you
want to just pull out the old Claire's paste jewels and put those on."

"Fine," I
grumbled. "I'll wear the darn jewels like the freakin' Queen of
England."

For the first time that
day, Bix burst into laughter, and when I turned and looked at her confused as
to why that was the thing that made her laugh, she replied, "It's the
image of you dressed in the Coronation Gown, wearing a crown, and holding the
scepter that cracked me up."

"You are a nerd,
Elizabeth Margaret Wentworth-Trent Northrup," I scolded. Bix stopped
laughing and shot me a dirty look that rivaled any teenager. I shrugged and
said, "Serves you right, torturing me this way for a whole five
hours."

We both burst out
laughing and then headed to the register to collect the shoes. Thirty minutes
later, we were being buzzed into Tullio, one of the most exclusive jewelry
stores in Washington D.C. The entire store was done in deep shades of rust and
gold. The carpeting was so thick that our feet made no sound and the layers of
fabric on the walls muffled our whispers.

"Are you sure about
this?" I whispered to Bix as a young man came toward us holding out his
hand.

"Elizabeth Northrup,
it's so good to see you again!" he smiled as he shook Bix's hand.

"Phillip, it's so
good to see you again, as well," she smiled as she shook the man's hand.
"How are Nelia and the girls?"

"They're down in
Florida visiting their grandparents this week, but will be back for the
holiday," he smiled. "How are your little ones?"