The Billionaire's Gamble

I’m a little taken aback by how blunt she is, but she has a point. I agreed to let Nolan pay for everything even though I didn’t know what that meant at the time. I don’t know exactly what’s happening between us or how long it will last, but if I don’t accept him for who he is, nothing will ever happen. I’m silent for the rest of the drive, and I’m still buried in my thoughts when the car pulls to a stop. I get out, and my jaw drops because I’m standing in front of Bergdorf Goodman. The Bergdorf Goodman. The most expensive department store in the world.

“You okay?” Sage asks.

I nod. “Yeah.” I’m okay. I’m just overwhelmed by the feeling that I’m Cinderella, and I’m not sure when the stroke of midnight will be.

Sage is entirely right—it is like that scene in Pretty Woman when Julia Roberts goes shopping. Minus the part where she’s a prostitute of course. There are people falling all over us when Sage drops Nolan’s name. People bring us champagne, and we’re set up in a private dressing room. We never even have to leave the room because people bring everything to us. It’s overwhelming and exhilarating. Someone comes in and takes my measurements and shows me a book of all the gowns they have in stock. I notice there are no prices next to the pictures and I’m guessing that I don’t want to know. I choose three that catch my eye, and they’re brought, along with swatches of fabric, shoes, and jewelry.

I do step onto the pedestal with these gowns, and it feels strange yet kind of amazing to be fawned over like this. The third dress is the one. By far. The minute I step out of the door and stand in front of the three-way mirror, Sage agrees. “Yeah, that’s it.” The dress is a blue so deep it’s almost black, the fabric smooth with a pearly sheen. It’s a one shoulder gown, fitted closely through the chest and waist, flaring out to a fuller skirt. It’s gorgeous and sexy and I know I’ve never worn anything that’s made me feel like this before.

Once I confirm that this is the dress, the sales people bring me some undergarments, a lacy bustier in the same color as the dress and tell me to put it on. I do, and they pin me within an inch of my life, making sure the dress fits like a glove before they let me take it off and sweep it off to alterations. We find shoes—little silver high heels that make me feel like Cinderella—and they lay out an assortment of jewelry that makes my head spin. Sage helps me choose, a long teardrop necklace with what I choose to believe is a fake sapphire, earrings to match and a silver chain bracelet that doesn’t match but I like.

Everything is taken care of, and I’m beginning to feel the exhaustion. I’ve been riding the high of adrenaline all day, but it’s still been a few days without great sleep. Sage reassures me. “We have some time. You can take a nap before the hair and make-up people arrive.”

“Sure,” I say. I have hair and make-up people. Throughout this day Sage has never lost her patience or her drive to get everything right—to get everything perfect. “Thank you, Sage. I know this is a lot.”

“On the contrary, I had fun,” she says, giving me a rare full smile. “I hope that you and Nolan have an amazing time tonight.”

“Me too.”

13

Nolan

I keep looking at my watch. I swear that time is moving slower today. I know that’s impossible, but I’m certainly experiencing time more slowly. This was not a meeting I really needed to attend. I see that now, even though our overseas managers requested my presence. They didn’t need me for any important reason—they wanted the opportunity to show how well they’re each performing and get some face time with me. I could have seen how well each of their branches is doing with a report and done without all the bowing and scraping and the attempts to spin bad numbers into good ones.

Sage has been texting me updates, and it seems like the shopping trip is going successfully. Only thirty more minutes until I can respectfully excuse myself. It’s just…painful. Don’t get me wrong, there are a lot of perks to being the CEO of a company like this one. But meetings with people who are just hoping you like them enough to give them a promotion is not one of them. I glance at my watch. Twenty-nine minutes. Dammit.

I try to focus on what the man in front of me is saying. He’s the head of our bank in Belgium, and he’s criminally boring. I’m not even tired and I feel my eyelids getting heavy. My phone buzzes. It’s Sage—they’re finished at Bergdorf’s and are heading back to my place. Everything in me wants to stand up from this table and leave the meeting without saying anything, just abandon everything and go. I’m still riding the high from blowing off that meeting in Vegas, and I loved that feeling of freedom. I loved not having to do this.