LILY
I’ve been shoppingat Target and the clearance section at Marshall’s for the past ten years, but some things stick with you. I have no problem swiping Nero’s credit card shamelessly, again and again, as I go from store to store.
After all, I have an assignment now.
I started off my day buying hunting gear, practically throwing money at the guy in the men’s department at Bergdorf’s to put together the outfits Nero will need for this trip of his. Now, I’m on a mission to revamp my own wardrobe, upstairs in the luxurious surroundings of the designer ateliers, the kind of place that gives out flutes of champagne in a velvet-draped room while saleswomen parade things in front of me.
Even though I’m furious at Nero for dragging me along with him this weekend, I admit to myself that it’s pretty wonderful to be back in the lap of luxury, with people catering to my every whim. For so long, I was the one working my ass off, running around for tip money. Now, I’m the one lounging on a comfortable couch, saying ‘yes’ and ‘no’ with a brief nod of my head as everyone flocks to bring me gorgeous outfits.
“I think I have just the thing for you,” a young saleswoman says with an excited smile on her face. She has a gorgeous blue dress draped over her arm, and I finish off my champagne as I stand. “It comes in a white, too, but this is perfect with your coloring.”
“June, you are amazing,” I say as she hands it over. I hold out the dress and try not to think about whether or not Nero would like it.
I don’t care if he does.
At least, that what I tell myself.
“Do you want to try it on?” she asks eagerly. “I can add it to the room.”
The room that is already overflowing. I smile. “Yes, please.” Ensuring Nero gets a massive balance on his credit card is just my way of taking a small bit of revenge against him for messing with my emotions. Not that I’ll let him know that.
No, as far as he’s concerned, I couldn’t care less about his sexual games. The stunt he pulled in the shower… I’m officially blocking it from my mind.
And as for my heart? I need to keep that thing locked up tight, even if I am struggling with past feelings surging to the surface. Especially because of that. I shouldn’t feel anything for him other than disdain with the way he’s been acting, but somehow, my body hasn’t gotten the memo.
My heart, my body… he has a way of affecting every part of me, even as my mind screams at the rest of me to see sense and resist.
I follow June into the dressing room and take the dress from her before she leaves. Sliding the silk over my head, I smile as I see the way the fabric falls. It sure beats the cheap fabrics I’ve been wearing at the strip club, cheap garments I don’t mind getting covered with beer and rancid cologne.
I reach back and try to zip it up, but I can’t quite reach. Going to the door, I crack it open and peek my head out. The area just outside of the dressing room has couches and a pedestal in front of three full-length mirrors.
“June?” I call out. “Can you help me with the zipper?”
“I can help you.”
I jolt at the sight of a woman sitting on one of the couches, wearing a basic navy pantsuit. I didn’t notice her before, scrolling on her phone. She’s already getting to her feet, so I smile. “Oh, thanks.”
I turn my back and let her zip up the dress. “What do you think?” I ask, assessing my reflection in the mirror. It’s a perfect fit. Gorgeous.
“You look very pretty,” she says, with a smile.
“Anyone would look good in a dress this expensive,” I reply with a laugh. “It’s part of the price tag. Are you shopping for anything?” I ask, still examining my reflection. It would be a knockout for dinner, or another party.
Or making Nero regret he ever taunted me.
“That depends,” the woman replies. “On you, Lily.”
I freeze. “How do you know my name?” I demand, whirling around. But I know the answer before she says anything, I should have guessed it from her boxy suit, and the no-nonsense look in her eyes.
“I’m with the FBI.”
My blood runs cold, but I force myself to stay calm—at least, on the outside.
I step off the pedestal and fluff my hair. “What could you possibly want with me?” I ask, playing dumb.
I can tell she doesn’t buy it for a second.
“We need to talk to you,” she says, handing me a business card.