Ambition (Private 7)

"So. Guess we're scratching Dominic off the list," Vienna said, placing our coat-check tags down at the counter near the front of

the club. "Unless you can keep him sober." "Not likely," I replied, forcing a laugh. Besides, I wasn't sure I would ever be able to for-

get the things he'd just said, drunk or not. Dominic might have been the perfect arm candy of a Billings president on the surface, but he

was clearly not for me. Besides, I didn't want any of Cheyenne Martin's sloppy seconds, which apparently meant most of Ketlar was

off the table. It was amazing how these boys kept reinforcing what a catch Josh had been. Amazing and really, really annoying.

* * *

The moment we walked through the doors of Barneys New York the next morning, the Twin Cities took off like a pair of sugar ad-

dicts who'd just been let loose at a chocolate factory. I glanced at Noelle and Sabine and laughed. "Looks like we're on our own." Now

please just don't kill each other. That morning over an early br

unch, we called the St. Sebastian and booked it for the fund-raiser din-

ner and auction. Noelle hadn't been all that happy about it, but she had agreed with me in the end. Then we had called Kiki and Astrid

to give them the dates and told them to send out the e-mail invites ASAP. Now, everything in place, it was time for a little retail ther-

apy. The Billings Girls' therapy of choice. We strolled through the main floor with its wide walkways and gleaming glass counters,

and then down the stairs to the beauty department. Noelle wandered off toward the makeup counters to check out a few things, and I

was hit with a whiff of perfume. I paused and looked over at an anorexic-looking woman dressed in a formfitting black suit who was

offering samples of some new scent. The cash I'd been given by the Billings alumni was currently burning a hole in my Chloe bag,

and I had never bought myself perfume before. Could I possibly spend my green on something so decadent?

Why not? This was my weekend of freedom. I could do whatever I wanted. "I'm going to go try out some perfume," I told Sabine.

"I'll come with you," she replied. As if I ever thought she was going to go after Noelle. After assaulting my senses with fifteen ridicu-

lously strong scents, I chose a clean, invigorating perfume called, appropriately, Free, and barely broke a sweat handing over the many

bills I needed to shell out for the tiny bottle. The moment the transaction was done, my iPhone rang, and Vienna's picture came up.

"What's up?" I asked. "Max out your credit already?" She ignored my joke. "Where are you bitches? We're trying on dresses. Get your

butts up here!" she shouted.

"Guess we're going to try on dresses," I told Sabine and Noelle, who had just joined us with a small bag from La Mer. "Sounds like

a plan," she said. She glanced at my bag. "I can't believe I'm actually in Barneys," Sabine breathed, looking around as we ascended the

escalator. I glanced at Noelle, knowing some obnoxious comment was right on the tip of her tongue. She caught my look, and instead

of saying whatever she wanted to say, she looked away. Huh. Maybe Noelle was starting to get bored of teasing Sabine. Or maybe

whatever she and Dash had done last night had left her in such a good mood that her heart wasn't in it. She hadn't returned to our suite

until this morning. Clench. Okay. Not thinking about that. We found London and Vienna in the spacious dressing room off the couture

section on five, being waited on by two very eager assistants. From the looks of their rooms, they had already tried on several dresses