Money Man (King Maker 1)

“It’s functional.”

“Exactly, and this will make your man beg.”

“He’s not my man,” I protested.

She put the bra back before patting my hand. “Of course, he is. A man like him doesn’t buy La Perla for anyone. It’s too bad your boobs are bigger than mine. I’d take them off your hands.”

“I can’t accept this.” I waved a hand over the box with too expensive underwear in it.

“It’s too late to return it. He didn’t leave you a gift receipt and the price tags have been removed.”

“I’ll donate them.”

Shocked, she opened her mouth and stopped before speaking. “Honey, you don’t donate La Perla. You go to Target, buy some functional underwear, and donate that if it makes you feel better. Besides, how many women in the world have your curves? This was bought specifically for you.”

Though she seemed in awe, I was worried about his note. I took out a bra and looked at the tag. 34D. Perfect.

“How does he know my size?”

“He pays attention,” she said gently like she knew I’d hate her answer.

I picked up the envelope, unable to get it out of my mind and handed it to her. “How easy is it to get stationary like this?”

She inspected it. “I’d say pretty easy. It’s expensive, but there’s nothing truly unique about it. Why?”

When she gave it back, I studied the writing. The script was masculine and looked nothing like the handwritten warning notes. I tried to breathe easier.

“Bails, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

I glanced up. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

I tapped the note in my hand and worked to shake the idea that maybe Kalen was somehow involved in trying to put my audit findings to a stop. The fact that I swore I saw him in the office today didn’t help.

In my room, I shot Kalen a text.

Me: I can’t accept the gift.

Quicker than I thought, he responded.

K: It’s yours to do with as you like.

Me: Can’t you return it? It’s too expensive.

K: Like I said in the note, I owed you.

Me: You broke only one.

K: Consider the rest interest.

Me: I can’t wear underwear that costs more than the clothes covering them.

K: Then you need new clothes.

At first, I thought he was insulting me until I realized the trap I’d walked myself into.

Me: Do not buy me any clothes.

I waited for a reply in vain because nothing came. When I woke the next morning, Lizzy stood in my doorway with a huge tan box tied with a simple black ribbon.

“This came for you.”

I rolled off the bed and stalked over to her. I snatched the box and tossed it onto the bed like it burned my hands.

“Look who’s the grumpy one this morning,” she muttered.

“He’s an ass,” I snapped.

“A rich one.”

I spun to face her. “You can have him.”

“He’s not my type. Besides, I think he’s more than a little hung up on you. Now, go ahead and open it. Take a girl out of her misery. I’m dying to know what he’s bought you this time.”

Unable to resist the allure of a mystery, which made me good at my job, I undid the binding and opened the lid.

As I stood there staring inside, Lizzy moved in. She slid the note to the side and picked up the first item.

“Oh my, an Alexander McQueen Fit & Flare Poplin Button-Front Blouse that bands at the waist and a peplum hem.”

All of that went over my head. I saw a white, long-sleeved shirt that was functional yet too fashionable for me.

Lizzy was way too giddy as she set the blouse down like it could break and picked up something else.

“He’s paired it with a Tom Ford off-center two-way exposed zip fitted pencil skirt. Sexy yet understated as you can adjust the front slit with the zip.”

It was just a black skirt to me. Though I could imagine Kalen unzipping it off me and quickly pushed the thought out of my mind.

“Don’t forget these.” Lizzy held up a pair of black red-soled shoes. “Elegant yet classic Christian Louboutin Pigalle Plato Patent Red Sole Pump.”

Overwhelmed, I asked, “How do you even know all of this?”

“I’m in art. It’s my job to know fashion.” She might as well have said “duh” for the look she gave me. “Or at least that’s what I used to tell my mother when she’d get my credit card bill. Thank God I have control over my trust fund now.”

“It’s all yours,” I said, heading to the bathroom to shower.

“No can do, my love,” she called after me. “That man has plans and I’m not standing in the way of them.”

I grumbled as I shut the door.

“You didn’t read the note,” I faintly heard through the closed door before I turned on my shower.

When I was finished, Lizzy was gone from my room. With the towel wrapped around me, I spotted the note and gave in to temptation. I sat down and read it.