Ryan took a sip from his cup and shrugged. “Last time I checked, there are about a million clothes stores in Manhattan.”
She’d made a promise to herself that, now that she was free of Clive and free of having her outfits picked apart by the fashion police in the tabloids, she could go back to wearing clothes that made her feel happy, more like herself. Less staid, more edgy. When she left London with the least offensive of the clothes that had been carefully selected by the stylist Clive employed to shop for her, she’d promised herself that she would overhaul her wardrobe. She’d find the vintage shops and the cutting-edge designers and she would wear clothes that were a little avant-garde, more edgy. And she wouldn’t wear another ball gown unless someone put a gun to her head.
Unfortunately, risking so many millions wasn’t a gun, it was a freaking cannon...
She’d thought she was done with playing it safe.
“You’re still frowning,” Ryan said. “This is not a big deal, Jaci. How difficult can shopping be?”
“Only a man would say that,” Jaci replied, bouncing to her feet. She slapped her hands onto her hips and jerked her head. “What do you want me to wear?”
Ryan shrugged and looked confused. “Why the hell should I care?”
“It’s your party, Ryan, your deal. Give me a clue...regal, flamboyant, supersexy?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Ryan demanded. “Put a dress on, show up, smile. That’s it. Just haul something out of your closet and wear it. You must have something you can wear.”
He really didn’t get it. “Come with me,” she ordered.
Ryan, still holding his coffee, followed her down the supershort hallway to the main bedroom. Jaci stomped over to the walk-in closet and flung the doors open. She stepped inside and gestured to the mostly empty room. Except for the umber cocktail dress she’d worn the other night, nearly every single item hanging off the rod and on the shelves was a shade of black.
Ryan lifted an eyebrow. “Do you belong to a coven or something? Or did the boring stuff get left behind when they robbed you?”
“I have enough clothes to stock my own store,” Jaci told him with frost in her voice. “Unfortunately they aren’t on this continent.”
Ryan looked at her empty shelves again. “I can see that. Why not?”
Jaci pushed her hair behind her ears. “They are in storage, as I wasn’t intending to wear them anymore.”
“I can’t believe that I am having a conversation about clothes but...and again...why not?”
Jaci stared at the floor and folded her arms across her chest. After a long silence, Ryan put his finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to his. “Why not, Jace?”
“I only brought a few outfits with me to the city. I was going to trawl the vintage shops and edgy boutiques to find clothes that were me...clothes that I liked, that I wanted to wear, clothes that made me feel happy. Now I have to buy a staid and boring ball gown that I’ll probably never wear again.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes. “Why does it have to be staid and boring?”
“You’re in the public eye, Ryan. And there’s a lot riding on this deal,” Jaci pointed out. “It’s important that I look the part.”
The corners of Ryan’s mouth twitched. “If our deal rests on what you are wearing then I’m in bigger trouble than I thought. You’re making too big a deal of this, Jace. Wear whatever the hell you want, wherever and whenever. Trust me, I’m more interested in what’s under the clothes anyway.”
He really wasn’t taking this seriously. “Ryan, impressions matter.”
“Maybe if you’re a politician who has a stick up his ass,” Ryan retorted, looking impatient.
He didn’t understand; he hadn’t been crucified in the press for, among other things, his clothes. He hadn’t been found wanting. She’d had enough of that in the United Kingdom. She didn’t want to experience it on two continents. That was why she was trying to stay out of the public eye, why she was avoiding functions exactly like the one Ryan was dragging her to. And if she had to go, and it seemed as if she had little choice in the matter, she’d wear something that didn’t attract attention, that would let her fly under the radar.
She waved her hand in the air in an attempt to dismiss the subject. “I’ll sort something out.”
Ryan sent her a hot look. “I don’t trust you... You’ll probably end up buying something black and boring. Something safe.”