I can’t believe she was really not going to say anything about her birthday tomorrow. I’m puzzled as to why not. If it hadn’t been for me reading her text messages last night, I would never have known. I’ve gone through her phone before, then offered her my own phone unlocked for her to go through as well.
The first time I asked for her phone she handed it over in confusion, then laughed as I went through it. I liked the way she wasn’t perturbed by it, once offering me her phone the minute she was done texting someone. The person was a former client asking for her availability.
When I offered her my phone she shrugged it off, telling me she not only trusted me, if she found out I was cheating she’d cut off my dick and stuff it down the throat of the woman I was cheating with to choke on, so she had no worries. Looking into her eyes, the calm way she said it, I didn’t doubt it for a second. Even as my balls hid from her, I was incredibly turned on. I pulled her in my arms as I told her I would expect nothing less from her.
As I look through her wish list on Amazon, nothing seems right. I remember what she said last night about how she would like to travel, to see the world. I flash back to the black and white skyline of London. Doreen calls me to find out where I am, and I tell her to tell Steven to fuck off—either he takes the deal I offered, or he can find another property. I hear a gasp. She had me on speaker phone. Whatever.
I pick up the phone again and call Mom. She had called me to let me know she got to San Antonio okay, and as we hung up she told me she would call me when she was ready. Which was Mom speak for me not to bother her. Sure enough, she answers sounding harassed.
“What is it, dear?”
“I’m wanting to take Olivia to visit the new place in Tours and spend a few days in London. Do you think your mom will last that long?”
“She’ll last longer than that.” Mom sighs. “Mother is not quite at death’s door as I was led to believe. It wasn’t a heart attack she had, it was a panic attack. However, the close call, as she demands it be called, made her see the light, and it’s time to mend fences and set things right. You two go, have fun. Tell Olivia I said Happy Birthday and her gift is in the closet wrapped in bright blue paper. You’ll see it the moment you open the door.”
“All right, Mom. If you need me, call.”
“I will. Be careful. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
Hanging up, I shake my head. Of course my mom knew it was Olivia’s birthday and I didn’t. She could have given me the heads-up. At least I know Olivia has a passport, I saw it in the things she packed up. When I asked her about it, wondering if she had traveled, she sighed as she shook her head. One of her clients, an older woman, and she frequently crossed the border to get cheaper prescriptions and a minor surgery.
I pick up the phone to make reservations in London, then call my pilot so he can file a flight plan. One of the things on her wish list does catch my eye: diamond earrings as sparkly and bright as Olivia. As soon as I hang up, I grab my keys. I love shopping.
***
Olivia
Shopping is torture, expensive torture. I’ve been wandering around for what feels like ages but my phone tells me has only been ten minutes. I wonder if time passes differently in the clothing section than it did in bedding. There was a woman roaming the floor who worked here, but the minute she saw me she pretended she didn’t and powerwalked away. I wasn’t offended, okay, I did maybe want to punch her in her stupid fake breasts, but whatever. It wasn’t the first time it’s happened to me.
I shouldn’t have come into this store. Except I was remembering what Cheryl said,
how even though costume jewelry costs three hundred here and they have the big-name designers, they also have a lovely selection of plus sizes. I should have stuck to the devoted fat chick store. That’s it, fat chick store it is. Where the hell is the exit?
“Olivia, what are you doing here? You need help? I’ll help you. Don’t leave.” It’s Jacqueline from the awesome dresses, the stylist who knew exactly what she was doing.
I’m torn between asking for help and running. Only I hesitated too long and I have no choice. Within five minutes I’m locked in a dressing room with seven dresses and Jacqueline telling me she’ll be right back. What feels like two minutes later, I’m drowning in jeans, pants, skirts, and blouses.
Two hours and several thousand dollars later, I’m in a daze as I follow Jacqueline out of the store. I can’t believe I spent all that money but I’m also proud of the fact I have the money to spend. And if nothing else I’ll work my ass off to be able to stay this size so I can wear the clothes for next ten years. I’m reminded only I know where my car is. She’s carrying two bags, I’m carrying two bags, and the bitchy fake tits chick who ran is carrying three bags.
No, Jacqueline didn’t work there, she just acted like she did. She had come into the store looking for something for another client. I was lucky she was there; she told me no worries, she would send the bill for being my stylist to Rourke. I’m trying to tell her no, only she waves and is gone. And my alarm goes off, telling me I have forty-five minutes to get ready for Gabe to pick me up. Dang it, it will take twenty minutes to get home.
By the time I’m home and have carried in all the bags I have fifteen minutes to get ready. I hang up the two gorgeous dresses I couldn’t leave in the store. Then I go through the bags, trying to find the pretty black crepe pants, the kimono-style jacket and the pretty pink shimmering shell to go under. Normally I don’t wear anything without washing it first, but I decide to make an allowance in this case.
I’m flat ironing my hair but it’s still wavy when Gabe thunders up outside. Grr...okay, actually it doesn’t look bad. I throw in some mousse to hold the waves, I was going to have helmet hair anyway. Then I grab the leather cross body Jacqueline slipped in somehow and grab my wallet, cell phone and my brush and lipstick. I lock up as Gabe revs his engine. Jerk. He hands me a helmet, and I push it on. I lose track of the strap. Rolling his eyes, he does up the strap too tight.
Swallowing, I climb on then hold on tight enough I hope I give him bruises. He just laughs as he backs up, then roars off. Dang it, I’m more sore than I thought.
As Gabe parks at the restaurant, I sigh with relief. He has to help me off—my leg won’t go over the seat. His laughter makes me want to deck him. I’m not surprised when the host gives a double take at Gabe then checks, yes our table is ready then shows us to the table. Tonight Gabe is in khakis and a black polo, but he’s still wearing his boots, then there’s his big beard. Although I do see he’s shaped it and taken some length off.
“I like what you’ve done with your beard. You look a little less like a savage.”
“I’m trying to blend in, take ’em by surprise. So Liv, how goes it with the billionaire Vega? He ready to lock you down?”
“I don’t know what he’s ready to do. I don’t think he knows what he’s ready to do. There’s still no planning beyond tomorrow but he...” I blush as I remember the way he claimed me, the growled mine sounding like it came from his very soul. Gabe laughs. Shaking my head, I can’t look at my brother. “He made it clear he considered me his, and I, um, agreed.”
Gabe grins. “It’s okay, I’m sure I know how it went. No need to tell me more. But that’s all he’s been willing to do?”