A ‘you were amazing, baby, sleep well’ would’ve been nice, right?
I got up, muttering under my breath, and wrapped the sheet around me before heading to the suite’s living room. And that’s when I saw it-
A breakfast spread fit for royalty.
I froze, blinking.
Golden croissants. Exotic fruit. Coffee served in porcelain so fine it was probably worth more than my rent.
I frowned.
“Uh… weird. Did I accidentally pay for some premium combo without noticing?”
Before I could question it further, my stomach made the choice for me. If the food was here, it was mine.
I sat down and started eating like there was no tomorrow.
After eating what felt like the GDP of a small country, I headed to the bathroom. At least Christian had left me with a five-star shower to enjoy.
And what a shower! The stall had more buttons than a spaceship, and I spent the first five minutes just testing water jets like a kid discovering new toys.
After the bath, my brain finally landed back on planet Earth. I needed to work.
My phone? Dead. My dignity? Almost dead. My commitment to my boss? Unfortunately, very much alive.
It didn’t make sense to go home and then to the shop, so I stopped at a little store and bought some basic jeans and a comfy blouse. No way was I showing up to work in last night’s party dress, thank you very much.
An hour later, I walked into the boutique, tired but alive.
At least, that was what I thought, until I saw who was waiting for me.
My eyes went wide. My heart jolted like I’d just been electrocuted. My bag slipped off my shoulder and hit the floor with a dull thud.
“Holy shit!” I blurted, a hand flying to cover my mouth.
Christian. Smiling. Polished. And absolutely shameless, standing there like he had every right to invade my real life.
“What are you doing here?” The words came out in a high, almost unrecognizable pitch.
He flashed a lazy grin.
“Missed you, babe.”
“Don’t call me that.” My eyes darted frantically around the store, checking if anyone heard.
“You didn’t seem to mind last night.”
Son of a bitch.
I was in no mood for his little games. Not after he left me in bed like some cheap delivery order.
That’s when my boss appeared, excited.
“Zoey! I’m so glad you’re here! We have a very important client! He asked for you personally.”
My eyebrow twitched.
“What?”
She just beamed, completely blind to the arrogant glow radiating off Christian.
“Mr. Kensington wants to buy a wedding dress, and he insists you’re the one to help him.”
I swallowed hard.
I looked at Christian. Then at my boss. Then back at Christian.
And that was when it clicked.
He was screwing with me.
He had to be.
“Oh, sure. Now you’ve got some weird fetish for wedding dresses?”
Christian smiled, clearly amused.
“Maybe.”
I turned to my boss.
“Are you sure he… actually wants to buy a dress?”
“Absolutely! He’s already looked at several, but he says he wants your opinion.”
I swung back to him.
“What are you up to?”
He just tilted his head.
“Come on, Zoey. You sell wedding dresses. I need one. Where’s the weird part in that?”
‘Everything, Christian! The weird part is everything!’
But my boss was right there, looking like she was ready to fire me if I refused.
So, I shut my eyes and took a deep breath.
“Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”
I spent the next twenty minutes showing Christian different options. He rejected every single one. He was there to torture me. To watch me squirm. To amuse himself while I tried to stay professional and not shove a hanger through his face in front of my boss.
“And this one?” My voice came out sweet and professional, but in my head, I was stabbing him with the hanger.
“You look gorgeous when you’re mad.”
My brain short-circuited.
“Excuse me?!”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.