Playboy Billionaire

“Alright. I’ll call for Lex and Lane to do your hair and makeup,” She’s going a mile a minute now, rounding the island to my side and hooking her arm with mine again. “Oh! Do you know what you’ll wear?”

“I was thinkingthis—“

“You have to choose somethingdifferent. You can’t be seen two nights in a row wearing the same Prada runway look.”

“I was in Massachusetts, Mother.”

“And I was here, but I still saw you on The Source news.” She pulls out her phone as we walk up the main foyer stairs, rounding to the second floor.

“Here.” She shows me, not handing her phone over, so it wiggles as we talk. I can’t read what it says, but I can see myself sitting at that table alone in this look. Whoever took the photo did so with a Samsung or something because it's blurrier than the flashing memories of a black-out drunk evening with the girls.

“Fine,” I growl as we cross to the elevator. Not really even sure why we took the stairs in the first place. I don’t pay a world-renowned personal trainer so I can get my workout in at the staircase.

“I think I just need to be alone for a while as I choose whatIwant to wear.” Her face drops and she lets me go as the elevator doors open.

“Fine. I guess you don’t want help from your very fashionable mother.”

“Don’t entice me.” I flatly retort, hitting the fourth-floor button and watching her walk away from the elevator in a huff. I’m pretty sure I’ve known how to dress myself since I was four. Maybe I detest having her help me because she’s so unhelpful in every other way. It’s why grandma took the family business back when father passed— though we’d never tell Mother that. It’s always been the plan for me to marry someone of importance to take over next, but I didn’t know that the decision would be against my will. I thought it would happen organically or something, to someone I’m remotely attracted to, with a brain and maturity about himself, like Mr. Darcy. (Apparently, a tall order.)

I grumble as the doors open, attempting to refocus on the more important details of tonight. Get him to like me, get him to want me, keep him for long enough that I find a way to regain my freedom of autonomy or become attracted to someone better suited for me and my family's fantasy-mafia-union scenario. Easy. Sort of…