The Billionaire's Gamble

She starts walking towards the elevator and I follow. Her movements are sharp and driven, just like the rest of her. “I’m not in Kansas anymore,” I mutter under my breath.

“You’re from Kansas?” she asks.

“No. South Carolina, but the sentiment is the same.”

She laughs. “That’s right, it’s your first time here. Liking it so far?”

“I think it’s hard to know,” I say as the elevator door closes. “I haven’t done anything yet. From the airport to the car to here.”

“Well, we’ll save the actual sightseeing for another day. But I think you’ll like the parts of New York you’re going to see. Nolan filled me in on the fact that you couldn’t get any of your stuff from your house. Don’t worry, we’re going to take good care of you.”

“It’s really nice of him,” I say, “but he doesn’t have to buy me clothes. I can buy them.”

“Don’t even think about that,” she says, leading me out of the elevator and into the lobby.

I never thought someone as short as Sage could walk so fast. I’m having trouble keeping up. “It’s hard not to think about.”

I see Derek out of the corner of my eye, moving to follow me. This is so, so strange. There’s a town car waiting for us and Sage doesn’t hesitate to climb in. I hear her order the car to an address on Fifth Avenue. “Sage, this list, what’s on it?”

“A bunch of things. We’ve got to get you a wardrobe.”

My eyebrows rise into my hairline. “Just how much shopping does Nolan want me to do?”

She looks up from where she’s been typing something on her cell phone. “Have you ever seen the movie Pretty Woman?”

12

Dani

If there were ever a time that I wish I had soundtrack to play over my life, this would be it. I feel like I’m in the middle of a movie montage where the heroine is swept along, getting the make-over that turns her from an ugly-duckling into the beautiful swan. I’ve never thought of myself as the ugly duckling, but I have to say that I’m enjoying the transformation. Sage and I have been to three stores already, getting me everything from everyday clothes like jeans and shirts to dressier business casual. Right now we’re headed to a lingerie store.

“Did Nolan ask me to go to this store?”

Sage rolls her eyes. “No. He just said that you were going to need clothes. I made the list.”

“Good,” I laugh. “I think I would feel weird if he asked me to get a specific type of underwear.”

“Yeah, Nolan’s not that type of guy.” She holds open the door of the car for me, and she gives me a wink. “I figured if you’re going to be here with him, you might need something like this. Besides, my girlfriend and I both shop here. I can testify that everything that they sell is amazing. And hot.”

I hear the faint snap of a camera as I get out of the car. We were at the second store when the first photographer showed up, and I was really grateful I said yes to Derek shadowing me. I hadn’t expected to be as afraid of someone with a camera as I am right now. Now there are a couple photographers following us. I can imagine that it’s only going to get worse as the day goes on.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sage says as she ushers me into the store.

“About what?”

“The cameras. It’s normal.”

A nervous laugh escapes my throat. “It’s not normal for me.”

Derek takes up a post at the entrance to the store and Sage guides me through racks of lingerie—everything from satin to lace, some which are nothing more than ribbons. “It always happens,” she says. “The press is obsessed with Nolan. And why not? He’s young, rich, and handsome. They want to know about the women in his life. So no matter who he’s with this always happens. The paparazzi, I mean. The shopping spree is new.”

I’m not sure I find the notion of the paparazzi hounding other women all that comforting. It makes me wonder how many other women has this happened to? How many other women has Nolan invited to stay with him? Jealousy stabs through my chest, and I have to stop for a second in the middle of the store. I’m not usually the jealous type. I’m not even sure why what Sage said makes me feel uneasy. It shouldn’t. I have no claim on Nolan, he can see who he wants. Plus, from what I know of him so far, he doesn’t strike me as the type who juggles multiple women. His focus is too intense.

“So,” Sage asks, interrupting my reverie, “what kind of lingerie do you like?”

“I’ve honestly never shopped for any.”

The shocked look on her face is priceless. It looks like I’ve said something so horrendous that she’s now going to faint from the shock. “Well, we’re going to fix that. First off, what’s your favorite color?”