BOUGHT: A Standalone Romance (3 page)

“Hi, darling,” Sophie exclaims as she plants kisses on my cheeks. “I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“I’ve been swamped,” I say with a chuckle as she gives Zoey the same treatment. “I’m here to stock up now, though. Can you show me the new inventory?”

“Anything for you, darling. Follow me.”

Zoey and I follow her through the store. There’s gowns in every material, all overpriced and ready to be worn once before they disappear into some socialite’s closet. I’m a little more practical. There isn’t a time when I’m not concerned about finances, even if I have the extra money to not worry.

“Here are the new pieces,” Sophie says as she runs her hand down a gold dress with a high slit. “This dress is going so fast, I’m almost unable to keep it in stock.”

Zoey ohh’s and ahh’s, but I shake my head. “Actually, I need something a little more…conservative. This guy I’m…seeing is very picky.”

“Aww,” she says, nodding her head. “Sounds like old money. Is he?”

“I think so.”

“Then you’re going to want something sexy enough to entice him, but conservative enough to shut his mother up.”

I laugh. “You’re always spot on.”

Sophie shows me a few more pieces and some overpriced jeans and blouses. I take my time, examining each one until I find a few that I can live with. Some, like the cream number I’ve picked out for tonight, are a bit more risqué, but the others I think will work perfectly. Zoey even picks out a few dresses for herself.

“What do you think about this one?” I ask her, holding up a deep blue satin dress.

“Try it on,” she says as she sips on her wine.

I step into the dressing room that’s only concealed by a thick red velvet curtain. Slipping out of my clothes, I drop the dress over my head. The material slides against my skin, caressing it. I could get used to this. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I bite my lip. It’s not bad. The dress falls in the right places, dips low between my cleavage, and hugs my hips perfectly. It dips low in the back too, showing off my semi-muscular back with a long stream of diamonds laying against my spine. I grin.

“What do you think?” I ask Zoey.

“I think if you don’t buy it for yourself, I will,” she says as she stares at me in surprise. “You look hot as hell.”

I can’t help but to burst into laughter. “Well, don’t look so surprised!”

Zoey rolls her eyes. “You know you’re always hot. Hurry up and get changed. I am officially starving. Besides, we have to talk about this new guy of yours,” she says as she downs the last drop of her wine glass.

Shaking my head, I slip back into the room. I slip the dress back onto its hanger before I shimmy back into my dress. I can’t help but to feel a little proud of myself. If Connor doesn’t like these clothes, he’s delusional.

“All set?” Sophia asks in her eager, friendly voice.

“All set,” I repeat with a smile on my face. “I think that’s it.”

“Don’t forget shoes,” Sophie says smoothly.

How could I forget those? I go back through the store, picking out matching shoes before I’m once again at the counter. I know Sophie’s going to try to convince me to buy more, but I have to keep my budget in the low thousands. There are more important things that need to be done.

I finish buying my clothes and wrestle them into my car. Zoey does the same before we lock up and head down the road. The nicest thing about being in such a crowded place is that everything is within driving distance. Our favorite place to eat, Blue Moon, is up ahead. I can already smell fresh bread and the sugary, sweet smell of baking goodies.

We walk into the café together, and it’s completely different than Lovely’s. People are waiting around for a table, the level of the conversation ebbing and flowing. Food is being brought out quickly, but for every table that finishes their meal, more people come into the restaurant. Luckily, I know the owner, Jack.

“Zoey texted me thirty minutes ago. I saved you two a table.”

“You’re wonderful as always, Jack,” I say with a sigh as he leads us through a crowd of sighing, complaining customers.

“You two are like family,” he says with a smile, his round cheeks dimpled. “There’s always a place for you here. What would you like today?”

“Caesar salad,” Zoey says quickly. “Dressing on the side.”

“Ah, the usual,” Jack mumbles as he writes it down. “You, Angela?”

“I’ll actually have the steak and eggs today. Rare, please,” I add before both Zoey and I pass him our menus.

“Coming right up,” he says with a smile.

I watch for a while as he weaves his way through the throng of people, until the only thing visible is his gray hair, and then nothing. Zoey’s deep into her phone when I turn back around, a frown on her lips. I snap my fingers to get her attention after she doesn’t respond to me the first couple times I call her name.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing,” she says, putting her phone away. “So, what about this new client? He’s obviously loaded. We did some serious damage at Sophie’s place.”

“Yeah, that he is,” I say, rolling my eyes. “And arrogant, and mean, and an asshole.”

“He can’t be that bad.”

I scoff. “It’s Connor from last night, and he’s completely that bad.”

“What?” Zoey asks, incredulous. “Connor’s amazing.”

I laugh. “Maybe to you, but for whatever reason he hates my guts.” I sigh. “I’m supposed to meet him tonight to discuss everything.”

“Well, at least he’s nice to look at.”

“Irrelevant, when all you want to do is punch him in the face,” I mumble under my breath.

Zoey laughs and shakes her head. “Maybe all you two need is a good, hard fuck and you’ll be okay.”

“Zoey!” I groan as the people seated nearby look down their noses at us. “Do you have to say that so loud?”

“What? Fuck? Oh come on, everybody fucks. It’s 2015.”

“Anyway,” I say loudly, purposefully ignoring the stare of the couple next to us, “that’s NOT what we need. I don’t want him in that way, and he thinks I’m easy. It’s never going to happen.”

“I bet it does,” Zoey says before she sips on the glass of wine that’s been put down in front of her. “You just watch.”

Once again, I groan. This time painfully. “Never. Going. To. Happen.”

Zoey shrugs. “Your loss. All I know is the women from work swoon over him whenever he comes in.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Why is he coming into a law office?”

She shrugs once more. “I’m not his attorney, so I have no idea. I’m not quite sure whose client he is. They’re both pretty secretive about it.”

I nod. “It’s still kind of creepy.”

Zoey rolls her eyes. “You really need to find a cock and hop on it.”

Burying my face, I growl. “No I don’t, thank you very much.”

She’s completely right, I think, as I slip into the dress. I need to get laid. Lately, I’ve been putting work before play or meeting jerks like Connor. Instead of meeting him tonight, I would rather be with Zoey and her gorgeous boy toys. Maybe I could find someone to take home with me. Instead, I’m stuck with Connor.

I zip the back of the black dress up with a little bit of difficulty. When it’s closed, I sigh deeply. The dress falls down to my knees, with spaghetti straps that I cover with a black shawl. My feet slip into heels, but nothing too uncomfortable. I want the ability to run away without twisting my ankle if he gets on my nerves too much. I swipe nude lipstick on my lips before I recap the tube and slip it into my clutch to join the rest of my makeup. Just as I’m patting my hair, demanding it stay in place, there’s a knock on my door.

“Do not be mean. Do not be mean. Do not be mean,” I whisper to myself in the mirror. “If you fuck this up, you’re going to be without a job. Then what? Whatever you do, be nice.”

I give myself a wide smile before I walk downstairs. He’s knocking again, this time harder. Taking a deep breath, I open the door. Connor’s still looking impeccable in his suit, tie, and smug look as he glances at his watch.

“In the future, please be on time,” he says before turning.

I grit my teeth. Glancing at my phone, I can see that it’s only five minutes after six. I slam the door to my apartment in my haste and anger before I lock it up. Slowly, I follow after Connor, trying to keep my temper contained.

“I’ll get right on that,” I mumble under my breath.

“I mean it,” he says back, his voice almost a growl as he stops in his tracks to glance back over his shoulder at me.

I stop and swallow hard. What was that? The sharp, dangerous look in his eyes is foreign to me. I’ve only ever seen him coldly disdainful; this is another side. And what was that tingle that had run up my spine so strongly at his words? I push the thought away, but I don’t argue with him. There’s too much time left in the night to start an argument now, I reason.

At his car, he holds the passenger door open for me. It’s a sleek, black BMW, and I admire his tastes as he slips in beside me. The car starts with a beautiful purr before we pull out of the parking lot. I fold my hands in my lap, glancing out of the window as we drive.

“Here,” Connor says, startling me. “Read over this. It has more than enough information in it to get you started.”

“Started?” I mumble as I flip open the black binder in my hands.

The folder is thick, heavy. I glance at the pages and catch glances of names, glimpses of faces. After browsing through a few pages, I feel as though I’m back in high school Latin. I snap the binder closed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Am I supposed to know all of this?”

“Of course.”

“Why? Why would I need to know all of this?”

“If you could read,” he says between tight lips, “it says that we’ve been together for three years. That’s how long I’ve been telling my family that I was seeing someone. Now, my mom wants to make sure that I actually am. So they know things about you that I’ve made up, and you should know things about them. I’m not saying get it perfect, but for the amount of money I’m buying you for, you could at least try.”

Anger boils up inside of me once again. He thinks he’s bought me? I toss the binder onto the floor, folding my arms over my chest. I can see him seething in the driver’s seat, but that’s okay. I seal my lips as I try my hardest to push back the inevitable tears that I feel pricking my eyes.

The drive finishes in silence, and we pull up to a restaurant. I step out quickly, my heels clicking on the sidewalk as I hurry inside. I don’t want to be around him right now. I’m afraid of what I’ll say. Connor walks up behind me, speaking easy Italian to the host before we’re shown to our table. Once we’re seated, we order quickly before he pushes the binder over to me again.

“Let’s get something straight,” I say, hating the way my voice wobbles, the way my hands tremble. “I agreed to do this, yes, but I won’t take abuse. Either you start treating me with respect, or I’ll give you back every dime. There’s no need for you to be so cruel,” I finish, surprised that I’m brave enough to actually say something.

Connor nods, to my further surprise. “Forgive me if my tongue was a little…harsh. I can’t afford for this not to go right. You’ll find that I’m more than a little type A. I can’t help that. I didn’t mean to offend you…”

“Well, you did,” I snap, unable to hold it back. “I’m not an object, and I can’t be purchased.”

“Just rented?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

I stand from my seat so suddenly that I’m not even aware I’m doing it. The only thing I
do
know is that I don’t have to stand here and listen to him insult me. Before I know what’s happening, he grips my wrist before he lowers me back down to my seat through sheer force of strength.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You seem completely unable to do anything else,” I say steadily.

Connor frowns. “It has little to do with you and more to do with…” He trails off, letting the sentence hang in the air, thick and unrelenting. “Anyway, please go over the binder. I can help you with anything you need clarification on, but let’s try to make this evening productive.”

I don’t say anything. Instead, I place the binder on my lap and begin to go through it. There’s a ton of information. Once more I find my eyes searching the page frantically, trying to retain the information. I’m not someone who learns by reading. I learn by doing. If I do something one time, I can do it over and over again, as if I’ve been practicing for years.

“What do you think?” Connor asks, breaking my thoughts.

I glance up at him. He’s drinking a glass of dark liquid, slowly, staring at me. Shaking my head, I flip another page of the thick binder. “I think this is a lot to learn. I’m sure I could do it, but…”

“But?” he asks, his voice taking on a sharp edge.

“It’s going to take some time.”

“That, we don’t have. I need you to learn this and learn it quickly. So we’ll play a game.”

My eyebrow raises. “Oh?”

“Several times a week, I’ll quiz you on a few pages I give you to memorize.”

“That’s not much of a game,” I mumble.

“Let me finish,” he says sternly. “When you get things right, there’ll be bonuses, on top of our present arrangement.”

“Like?”

“Get some answers right and we’ll discuss it.”

The most unexpected thing happens then. Connor grins. I don’t know what comes over me, but the lacey panties I’m wearing suddenly become wet. My knees clench together more tightly. Why is it so hard to swallow? That grin alone is more than enough to make my pussy clench with anticipation.

Anticipation of what? I quickly scold myself. That is exactly my problem. I shouldn’t be thinking about Connor and his green eyes, dark hair, and chiseled physique. At the moment, I should probably be listening to what Connor’s saying and not watching the way his mouth moves.

“Are you paying attention?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah I’m listening,” I say quickly. “What did you say?”

Connor sighs. “I was thinking I could come over to your place tomorrow. We’ll try to get a lot done.”

“I have to check my schedule first…”

“Clear it.”

I scoff. “I can’t just ‘clear it’. I have clients that I’ve been dealing with for a very long time, you know.”

“You
will
clear your schedule tomorrow. Or do I have to call Miranda?”

Bastard. I grit my teeth. How dare he use the one thing against me that I actually care about? Getting fired by Miranda means no more job, no more contracts, no more anything. I straighten up a little taller in my chair.

“Why do you have to do that? You can’t just ask me to do something? You have to tell me? Order me around as if I’m some kind of child?”

To my surprise, Connor actually pauses to consider the thought as he takes another drink. “I’m not in the habit of asking for anything, so I can easily forget. Besides,” he leans in as if telling some great secret, “I find that some women actually enjoy it.”

I’m one of them. The words stick in my mind as I try to shove them away. That isn’t true. I don’t like being told what to do. I don’t like a strong pair of hands on my arms or a roughly spoken word in my ear. I definitely don’t like to be pushed down to my knees, my hands trailing a strong leg as I gaze up into lust-filled eyes…

A loud snap brings me back to reality. Connor’s grin is wider now. I want to slide underneath the table, disappear from sight if only for a little while. How did he do that? Men have tried in the past to dominate me. It never ends well. There’s something different with Connor, however, something that I can’t explain. I bite my lip.

“So, tomorrow?” Connor asks.

I regain a bit of myself. This is all because I haven’t gotten laid in so long. Sexual frustration will do wonders for the mind…mostly spur completely insane fantasies. Clearing my throat, I pick up a glass of champagne that’s been delivered to the table and take a small sip.

“How about we get through dinner without killing each other? Then, we’ll talk.”

Connor raises an eyebrow. “We’ll do it your way. For now.”

The way he says ‘for now’ sends a serious shiver down my spine. I push the thought away, instead turning to the food that is being placed in front of me. The smell of fresh herbs makes my stomach growl as I glance at the plate. In front of me is linguine with lobster. Eagerly, I spear a piece of lobster. I don’t have to bite into it: the lobster melts in my mouth.

“Oh my god,” I mumble before I slip another piece into my mouth. “This is amazing.”

A few bites later, I am distinctly aware of how quiet Connor has gotten. I glance up. He’s staring at me, fork in midair, watching me eat. I swallow nervously, returning my fork to my plate before I clear my throat quickly.

“What?” I ask, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

Connor shakes his head before he eats the pasta on his fork. “Nothing.”

I watch him for a little while longer, but his eyes never leave his plate. That’s weird, but not weird enough to distract me from the beautiful plate in front of me. I begin to eat once more, distracted.

Not many people would understand my love of food, I believe. I don’t love it just because it’s delicious, but because it’s filling. Had a bad day? Eat something. Life isn’t working out? Eat something. Boyfriend cheats? Eat a LOT of something. I’m not perfect, either. I damn sure gain the pounds, but I’ve also spent a very fair share of my life stuck in a gym, sweating my ass off for consuming so much.

My plate is empty in record time. By the time I’m finished, my belly is warm and full and my head is buzzing with the alcohol. I like that warm, fuzzy feeling my brain seems to get right at the beginning of being drunk, but I very rarely stay there. This time, I’m on my best behavior. I don’t want to hear Connor’s stinging criticisms of my drinking.

“That dress you’re wearing,” Connor says as he beckons for the check.

“Yes?”

“It looks good on you?”

Why am I blushing? I can feel the tops of my ears growing red and warm. What is up with him? How the hell can he always get inside of my brain so easily? I shouldn’t care what he thinks. I don’t care what he thinks…

Who am I kidding?

“Thank you,” I say as I dab gently at my mouth with the thick, white napkin.

“Are you ready to head back?”

I nod. “Yes, more than ready.”

The events of the day had slowly weighed on me, and now I find myself extremely tired. I cover my mouth to stifle a yawn before Connor starts pulling out my chair. Reaching over, I grab the thick binder before we head back to his car.

I wonder when the mood between us will lighten up. Don’t ask me why. Maybe it’s just because I hate awkward silences, and that’s all it’s been between us since the night we met. Thinking, I bite my lip.

“Don’t bite your lip.”

“Why?”

“It’s an ugly habit,” he says as he pulls into a parking space in front of my building.

“It’s
my
ugly habit. I think I’m allowed to have it.”

Connor narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t bite your lip.”

I think about arguing with him, but there’s something in his eyes that stops me. For the first time since I’ve been around him, I can tell that he’s telling a lie. He doesn’t want me to stop biting my lip because it’s a bad habit. He wants me to stop because it’s turning him on. I can tell by the way his eyes are traveling my body, hungrily devouring every inch.

Fuck.

I don’t need this. Quickly, I push my door open before I step outside. The night air is cooler than I thought it would be. I find myself wrapping my arms around myself and shivering. Something warm covers my shoulders.

“Lead the way,” Connor says, his jacket now draped over my arms.

I lead the way to the building. If it’s possible, he looks even hotter now. Casual, laid back, almost sexy. The outline of his muscles against the black dress shirt make me want to reach out, brush my fingers against his chest. The battle between my brain hating him and my body wanting him is beginning to get very one-sided.