39
Savannah
Apparently, shopping meant something completely different if you were shacking up with a bazillionaire and not the owner of a three-figure bank account.
Neve took me to lunch at a fancy lakeside café, and then we headed back to Jaxson’s penthouse. There, we were met by a pretty blonde woman with at least five designer shopping bags full of clothes and a couple of bottles of fancy champagne.
“I’m Jeanette.” The blonde smiled, her hands full. “Ready to try on some amazing outfits? Where should I put all of this?”
I let them in with the key Jaxson had lent me. Temporarily.
“Uhm. In the bedroom?” I glanced at the shoeboxes and makeup bag that Jeanette had shoved into an oversized tote. “That’s a lot of stuff.”
Neve grabbed three champagne flutes from the kitchen. “Are you kidding? You’re going to be mingling with millionaires tonight. You’ve gotta fit in.”
A light dizziness overcame me. Mingling with millionaires.
What’s this obsession with clothes? Wolfie asked. You’ve already got a perfectly fine fur coat.
I helped Neve and Jeanette haul their stuff upstairs and dropped several bags of clothes onto Jaxson’s bed. I felt like a vagrant, with no home or belongings, squatting in Jaxson’s luxury apartment and taking handouts from Neve. “Are you sure we need all of this?”
Neve watched me closely, seemingly reading my unease with the situation. “Absolutely. I love clothes, and Jeannette is a stylist at Madison & Main, so technically, this is part of her job. She gets the latest fashions each month and decides which styles are selected for the store’s main display. We’re helping her.”
“Really?” I raised my brow at Jeannette.
“Really.” The woman nodded, and I couldn’t detect a hint of dishonesty. “Since Neve has started helping me, I’ve gotten two promotions. Girl’s got an eye for fashion.”
“That’s right.” Neve popped the cork off a bottle of champagne and poured three glasses, handing me one. “Now strip. We’ve only got three hours to find the perfect dress and do your hair and makeup.”
Why had so much of my life started to revolve around getting naked in front of other people?
The first problem we had to address was the wound on my shoulder, which was seeping a little again.
“It really won’t heal?” Neve asked me for the third time as I self-consciously covered my chest with my hands.
“Trust me, it won’t. It’s from a cursed knife. Every time I think it’s getting better, it just starts bleeding—and I’ve even got werewolf healing now. I’ve tried potions and ointments, and Jaxson can, uh…heal me, too.”
Neve raised her eyebrows. “Mm-hmm. Healing magic is so hot, isn’t it?”
Heat flushed my cheeks, and I’m sure I turned as scarlet as the lipstick Jeanette had picked out.
We settled on using a bunch of tiny bandages to suture it closed. “Hopefully, that works. I don’t think it will show or bleed on the clothes,” Neve said.
Then it was on to the dresses.
Two hours, ten outfits, and two bottles of champagne later, Neve was on the floor cracking up at something Jeannette had said, and Jaxson’s bedroom was strewn with tissue paper, bags, and makeup.
Maybe this would make him think twice about getting me my own apartment.
Slightly tipsy, I giggled as I sucked in and zipped up a red silk dress that fit me like a glove. So far, I’d selected a silver tulle number and a slightly more modest black gown as potential options for tonight.
I definitely shouldn’t have eaten linguine alfredo for lunch, I thought as I adjusted the satiny fabric over my hips and turned to face the bathroom mirror.
Holy tits. Literally. The plunging neckline and embroidered lace panels that hugged my hips accentuated my curves. I turned to examine my derriere and smiled at the open back.
Hussy, my wolf said.
Maybe. But when else would I have a chance to wear a—I glanced at the tag, Vera Wang—dress and feel like a million bucks?
I stepped out of the bathroom, and Neve and Jeannette’s laughter cut off.
“Holy fates, Savannah.” Neve stood up and strode around me. “I think we found the winner.”
“You don’t think it’s too much?” I’d never worn anything like this before, and though trying it on in the bedroom with the girls was one thing, wearing it in public was another. Butterflies—or the bubbles from the champagne—churned in my stomach. What was Jaxson going to think?
I’m pretty sure I have an idea, my wolf chirped.
“This dress was made for you. But…it’s missing the most important part.” Neve scooped up a black shoebox from beside the bed and shot me a wicked grin. “Jaxson had Jeanette pick these up.”
Huh? Why the hell would Jaxson have ordered shoes for me?
Because you’re a hobo, Wolfie answered.
Heat rushed up my neck as I flipped the box open and pushed the turquoise tissue paper aside. Oh. My. God.
My heart skipped two beats, and I froze as I gazed down at the gorgeous pink platform heels I’d fallen in love with the day Jaxson had taken me to buy my magic boots.
Jeannette grabbed my arm and peered into the box, her eyes bulging. “The newest line from Andrea Todorova? You lucky girl.”
Jaxson had remembered that day and bought these for me.
Something stirred in my chest, and I suddenly felt flushed and breathless. I set the box down and rushed into the bathroom. Leaning on the white marble sink, I splashed water over my face and breathed in and out slowly. Why was I freaking out? It was just a nice pair of shoes, that’s all.