Billionaire's Second Chance

I smiled at her, then gasped as I caught sight of myself in the mirrored wall near the suite door. "Wow. I mean, I can't possibly pull this off, but this dress is amazing."

"Thanks, and don't be stupid. You can most definitely pull off that dress. Kev told me you like button-up shirts and clean-pressed pencil skirts, but I told him that was all work. This dress is all play, and it is all you," Sandi said. "Plus, it will fit Fenton's whole dark hair, tattooed, bad boy playboy vibe. I'm sure he'll be wearing a black on black suit and this will be perfect against it."

I shifted my weight so one hip stuck out – the dress demanded sexy poses. Then, I twirled around and felt the shimmering material dance along my skin. I swept my hair up and considered myself in the dress from every angle.

"I can't wear something just because it looks good next to Fenton," I said. "I'm not going to let myself be one of those girls who changes just to impress a guy."

"Call me crazy, but you aren't changing a thing," Sandi said. "A minute ago, you were all smiles and appreciative glances. It was as if you were seeing yourself again after a long absence. Face it, you feel good in that dress, you feel sexy, and that is who you are."

"A good, sexy girl?" I asked.

"Hell, yeah," Sandi said. She covered her mouth and giggled.

"So, I'm not the only one cutting loose in Vegas, huh?" I asked.

"I think that's the Kev effect," she said. "Being around him is encouraging me to say all the things I normally only think."

"Like Fenton is making me do all the things I normally only imagine," I said. I looked at the dress and struck another pose. "I can't believe how one short trip to Vegas has been so revealing."

"It’s the perfect place for it," Sandi said. She checked the iridescent dress for any tailoring. "I had my revelation in a North Dakota convention center. Not exactly the perfect backdrop for a life changing memory, but that's the way it goes."

I smiled at her as she adjusted the shoulder straps. "What happened in North Dakota?"

"I realized if I was going to continue being a stylist I didn't want to peddle someone else's dresses. I knew I would probably lose my base of high society matrons, but I suddenly didn't care. I was ready to start living my life, instead of thinking about it. I sewed the dress I had been dreaming about that night and posted it online. Within seconds, I had all sorts of queries and that was that." Sandi nodded to herself. "I guess I don't really care where it happened, only that it did."

"I love that – what you said about living your life instead of thinking about it," I said. "That's how I've felt ever since I met Fenton. Instead of choosing the safe path and then dreaming of all the possibilities I missed out on, I just go with my gut."

"And, what is your gut telling you about Fenton Morris?"

"That he's trouble, but I think it might be the good kind of trouble. You know, the kind that could be an atom bomb, but turns out to be the first blazes of a bonfire," I said.

Sandi laughed. "Definitely not the safe choice."

"The funny part is, I've met the safe choice here, too. This professional golfer, Jackson McRay. He's everything I'm supposed to want – from a good family, well-educated, cultured, practical, and always thinking about long-term goals."

"Doesn't hurt that he's handsome and rich," Sandi said. She shrugged, "I saw his tabloid cover. Hard not for him to catch any woman's eye."

"That's exactly it," I said. "Jackson McRay is a catch. He's the man I'm supposed to choose."

She stood back and put her hands on her hips as I fell silent. "Well, come on then, I know there's a 'but' in there. What is it? Why aren't you going to choose Mr. Perfect?"

"Jackson McRay might be everything I'm supposed to want, but Fenton Morris is everything I desire." It felt so good to say it out loud that my heart soared.

Now, all I had to do was figure out how to tell Fenton.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Fenton

I made it all the way down to the lobby before realizing I’d left my phone in the suite. Kev was talking the entire time about a woman named Sandi. He barely stopped when I told him we had to go back up. He was ecstatic.

"I don't think I know this Kev," I said.

"Doesn't matter, Sandi does," Kev beamed.

"I like her already," I said. The elevator opened and I saw the suite door was cracked open.

"Wait, what if we can hear some girl talk?" Kev asked. He put his finger to his lips and crept toward the door.