Weekend Wife (Sassy in the City 1)

It wasn’t false at all but I wasn’t going to argue. I wanted to tuck this moment away for later.

They went back into the dressing room and this time Leah came out wearing fuchsia. It was youthful and sexy even though she was completely covered up. The pants were shiny but wide-legged, perfect for her age.

“We’ve layered a tweed pullover with a lambskin jacket and pants,” Vivian said, before disappearing back into the dressing room.

“I love this,” I told Leah. “What do you think?”

“I feel like I mysteriously grew eight inches.” She tucked her hands into the front pocket of the pullover and did a model walk across the room.

“I feel like I’m mysteriously growing eight inches watching you.”

She laughed, an unabashed peal of laughter that swelled and filled the room as dramatically as her singing had. No matter what she did, Leah brought volume to a room, both in sound and energy. Whether it was balancing a tray at the diner or trying on clothing, she had a spark that seemed to reach out and grab on to my dick and hold me hostage.

“Grant, you’re a filthy bastard and I love it.”

Vivian returned in time to hear that and she raised her eyebrows but made no comment.

“We’ll take this as well. Can you coordinate some accessories and have it all sent over to my apartment?” Two outfits would work since it was just a short trip.

I picked up Leah’s glass and handed it to her. “Finish your champagne, sweetheart, and then we’ll go to lunch.”

Grant had bought me eight-thousand-dollar pants to wear for an afternoon. I wasn’t even sure how to process that. The pants were the bomb, don’t get me wrong, but I had never expected in this lifetime to own such luxury.

And those were just one piece. It was three pieces per outfit, plus he’d just tossed off casually to “coordinate accessories.”

We weren’t even done. It was staggering and very cool and also a little bit of what the fuck.

Lunch wasn’t the lap of luxury. We went for poke bowls and it made me feel more back-to-earth.

Which then was instantly shattered by cocktai

l dress shopping at Valentino. Grant had very specific instructions for this consultant. He wanted red, fitted, dramatic, but nothing that would overpower his mother, the guest of honor. Which it seemed to me if he wanted me to fade into the background, red was a poor choice, but it wasn’t my parents or my money so I kept my mouth zipped.

I tried on four dresses and he rejected all of them. I was amused to see he didn’t even hesitate. I would walk out, he would eye it, and then would give a resounding, “No.”

Personally, I thought he sounded like a dick, but the consultant didn’t seem to think anything of it, and I didn’t particularly care. He wasn’t rejecting me, just the garment. I thought they were all beautiful and I would have been happy with any of them because they were gorgeous, but again, I just posed for him and kept my thoughts to myself.

The fifth one he nodded. “Yes. We’ll take this one. That is, if Leah approves this one.”

“Yes, I approve. The only thing that would make this better would be if I ran across the room and jumped into your arms and you lifted me up Dirty Dancing style.”

Grant shook his head, the corner of his mouth turning up. “That’s not happening. Not with a marble floor.”

“That’s very disappointing. Don’t you trust your own strength?”

“I don’t trust you. You’re accident prone.”

“Rude.”

“I’ll tell you what. We can try it in the pool, how does that sound?”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

“Wait a minute.” I stopped in the midst of admiring how this dress made my ass look better than it was in actuality. “What pool? It’s October. Are you placating me?”

“Well. Yes. But my parents’ house has both an outdoor and an indoor pool. So bring your swimsuit.”