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Worth Every Cent

Page 14

by Lexy Timms


  “Look, I’ve seen you in a lot of beautiful clothes that I really enjoy on your gorgeous figure. Either you pick them out, or I will. Your choice.”

  I blushed at his comment before I rose from my seat.

  “Okay,” I said. “But I’m getting the cheapest items.”

  His chuckle filled the small room as I walked back out onto the floor. My personal stylist followed me around, picking out more clothes for me to wear. And one by one, and shop by shop, I picked out what felt like an entire new wardrobe. One dress turned into two, and one pair of flats turned into four pairs of heels. One pair of pants became three in different colors and two shirts became four blouses that made me feel alive and beautiful for the first time in my life. Belts and accessories and purses that were out of this world. Jewelry that had real stones in them and fabrics that slid against my body and screamed of comfort.

  We left Michigan Avenue with throngs of bags dripping from our arms.

  It was all so much, and every time I looked over at Gray my heart fluttered in my chest. And every chance I got, I tried to remind myself that it was only temporary. Sure, he might have stalled out his time in Illinois because of Cecily’s fake interest in the house, but he was still going to sell it. And once he sold Anton’s property, he’d be gone again. I felt like I was in a fairytale, but even books and movies had their ends.

  And they didn’t always end with a happily ever after.

  We hauled all of our bags upstairs and into the penthouse suite. And when he turned around to smile at me, my heart stopped in my chest.

  It’s make believe. He’s leaving soon. Don’t get too wrapped up.

  “I’d love to see that dark green dress on you again,” Gray said.

  But deep down inside, I knew I was falling for him. And I knew whatever he asked of me, I would deliver. I dug through the bags until I found the dress he was looking for, then ran off to the room to get changed.

  I was in so much trouble it made me sick to my stomach.

  Chapter 23

  Grayson

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t go back tonight?” Michelle asked.

  I kissed her bare shoulder as the ripped green dress glared at me from the chair in the corner.

  “I’m sure,” I said, into her skin. “I promise to get us up early and get you home before your shift at the diner. You can nap in the car on the way back, if you’d like. I’ll drive a little slower to give you more time to rest.”

  I nuzzled my nose against her neck and relished at the giggle that fell from her lips.

  “Are we spending another night in then?” she asked.

  She turned around in my arms and her tits pressed warmly against my chest.

  “Actually, I figured we could get changed into one of these outfits and go have a nice dinner.”

  “I thought the nice dinner was supposed to be saved for selling Anton’s house,” she said.

  “Well, then consider it a date.”

  The shock that rolled across her face sent a grin across my cheeks. I loved the fact that I could still stun her. And my words weren’t lies. I wanted to take her out on a date. A proper one. One with floor-length tablecloths and a sprawling wine list and a menu tailored to our delight. I wanted to show her off on my arm and have every single man in all of Chicago drool at the curvy woman clinging to my side.

  I wanted the world to know Michelle Danforth was mine.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get ready and I’ll call in the reservations.”

  It took a very generous donation and a future favor for me to get us seats for that evening at Oriole, but it would be worth it. I pulled out a pair of dark gray slacks and a crisp blue shirt to wear for the evening. I rolled up the cuffs and abandoned the tie, then threaded a leather belt through the loops of my pants.

  But it wasn’t until I heard the clicking of heels along the floor that I realized how much trouble I was really in.

  The second I laid my eyes on Michelle, my heart stopped. It dropped to my toes, leaving me without a pulse as my eyes scanned her body. I hadn’t seen her in that dress today. The pale yellow number she had on. It clung to her tits and had fabric that fell off her shoulders. It cinched in at her waist and flared with fabric that fluttered when she twirled for me. Her heels flexed her legs in ways that struck up a growl. I swallowed it down as best as I could, taking in the slopes and valleys of a body I knew I’d never be able to get enough of.

  “What do you think?” Michelle asked.

  Her dark red hair was piled high on her head and her lips glistened with a crimson red. When the hell had she picked up lipstick? I felt my jaw drop before I closed it quickly, then walked over to her and offered her my arm.

  “There are no words,” I said.

  Her cheeks tinted to match her lips as we started for the restaurant.

  I wanted to impress her tonight. Not with my money, but with my knowledge of wine. We sat down at our reserved table and my feet immediately slid against hers, and I asked the waiter for a wine list before I bombarded him with questions.

  “Did the grapes for this particular white wine have red skin?”

  “Do you have the year before this vintage? That one had some woody notes I’ve been trying to recreate for years.”

  “Do you have any rainy season wines available? Those have a tendency to be richer in their quality and a little less dry. I’d hate for my date to not enjoy your selection simply because she can’t swallow it.”

  “I thought I recognized that voice.”

  My eyes shot up and I watched as Michael Kagle made his way for me.

  “Mike! I had no idea you were working here,” I said.

  “It’s my traveling season. I’m in the throes of educating the staff on the wine selection you’re giving them such a hard time about,” he said.

  I stood up and greeted my friend with a clap on his back.

  “And who is this beautiful date of yours?” he asked.

  “This is Michelle Danforth. Michelle, this is Michael Kagle. He’s the foremost expert on wines this side of the country.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you,” she said.

  “I promise you, the pleasure is very much mine,” Mike said.

  “Down boy. She’s already taken,” I said.

  I tossed a wink over to Michelle and watched her eyes glisten with awe. It was working. I could tell she looked impressed with my actions. And I basked in the glow of it. There was something about having her at my side that felt right. Perfect. The way she looked and the way she held herself and the way her eyes sparkled with the illumination of the restaurant.

  She fit perfectly into this world, and she didn’t even know it.

  “If I might make a suggestion?” Mike asked.

  “I’d love it if you did,” I said.

  “If you’re going with the fish tonight, then choose the Domaine du Comte Liger-Belair La Romanee Grand Cru. It’s a Pinot Noir that will leave you breathless. But, if you choose to go with the steak—which I will not blame you if you do—then the Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon cannot be passed up.”

  “I’m hurt you didn’t suggest any of my wines,” I said.

  “Something tells me this lovely woman has already tried your wines. I’m simply out to expand her experiences,” Mike said.

  “Thank you so much for your suggestions,” Michelle said. “The fish sounds good tonight.”

  “Then you’ll love the wine that comes with it,” Mike said.

  Our dinner was fantastic. Filled with a beautiful bottle of wine and a salmon that was out of this world. It saddened me when we had to leave the next day, even though I knew we would still be seeing one another. After all, the house hadn’t sold yet, which meant re-cleaning and re-staging after Cecily had painted it with her disgusting fingertips.

  “Michelle?” I asked. “Time to wake up.”

  She groaned and shifted as we breached Stillsville’s city limits.

  “A little longer,” she said.
>
  I grinned at her as I reached over and ran my hand through her hair.

  “Come on. We need to head by Cecily’s and get your stuff.”

  “Why?” she asked, as she turned towards me.

  “Well, I figured you would want me picking you up from work. But we both did agree you can’t stay there any longer. We can pick up your stuff together, you can put it in my car, then I can unload it into your room at Anton’s while you’re at work,” I said.

  But her hesitation to answer me had me worried.

  “You don’t seem too thrilled at that plan,” I said.

  “Maybe I could call the landlord again. I’m sure his wife is out of the hospital by now.”

  “Why don’t you want to stay with me?” I asked.

  I stopped us at the only stoplight in Stillsville and looked over at her. I couldn’t make out the expression on her face, but it made me worried for her response. So instead of heading to Cecily’s, I took her straight to the diner.

  “We can talk about it after work, how does that sound?” I asked.

  “I like that. I’m sorry. I’m just a little foggy from the nap. That’s all.”

  “What time does your shift end?” I asked. “I’ll pick you up.”

  “Five. Just before the dinner rush.”

  “I’ll be here. Just walk on out.”

  “Okay.”

  But even her kiss before she left me felt a little emptier than it had over the weekend.

  I watched her walk into the diner and past a couple of women around her age. They were leaning against the facade of the building, smoking their weight in cigarettes. The snickered as Michelle passed them, and at one point someone else shook their head at her. I furrowed my brow as I sat there, watching as Michelle disappeared into work. If she had picked up on it, I couldn’t see a reaction in her body language at all.

  What the hell had that been about?

  “You’re still here?”

  I whipped my head around and Andy leaned his limping body against my car.

  “Get off,” I said as I struck the engine up.

  “Only if you get your limp dick out of town and keep your hands off my fucking woman.”

  I reached out of the car and pushed him off my rental, watching as he collapsed to the ground. Drunk, as always. Drunk, like my damn father. People gasped and I rolled my eyes. Anyone in this town would cling to any little piece of drama they could to fill their pathetic little lives. I watched Andy pick himself up off the ground as I inched my way out of the parking lot, making sure I didn’t run his drunk ass over.

  Though part of me wanted to.

  “Get your shit together, Andy. Because you look stupid.”

  “Michelle is mine, asshole!” he exclaimed, as I rode through the parking lot.

  I slammed on my breaks and turned my head around to take in the drunken man stumbling towards my car.

  “You keep your disgusting hands off that beautiful woman. She made her choice, so live with it. And lay off the damn booze, Andy. You look like my damn father.”

  Then I sped out of the parking lot, squealing my tires and leaving Andy in a cloud of smoke.

  I headed straight for Anton’s, eager to get out of the prying eyes of this damn town. After a beautiful and wonderful weekend with Michelle, I was pissed at how it was all ending. I raced my car into the driveway and pulled all the way up to the side of the house. I wanted my car where I could see it at all times. I had five hundred thousand dollars in clothes and jewelry in the trunk of my car, and I sure as hell wasn’t letting the prying people of Stillsville get their hands on it.

  Or get a look at it.

  Or even get near it.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I barged my way into the garage. I could lose myself easily until four thirty working on this thing. It was coming along nicely. So far I hadn’t run into any parts that needed replacing. Except for the flat tires. That would take some ordering off the internet and delivery, then I could put those bad boys on and be done. I’d have to do a little bit of research on how to smooth out the gashes and fix the paint on the car, but as far as the undercarriage of the Chevy was concerned, it was almost done.

  I tightened the last bolt and surveyed my work, then rolled out from underneath it and wiped the grease off my hands. I reached into the driver’s side and popped the hood, then hung a light and got to work. The radiator tank was cracked. The engine needed to be cleaned. The battery almost certainly needed to be replaced. I made a mental note of all the things that needed fixing and topping off before running some prices through my head. Stillsville would have some of this stuff, but the other parts I’d have to either get offline or travel into the next town to get.

  I looked at my watch and saw it was only noon, so I figured I could use the time to make the drives.

  Any excuse to get out of Stillsville was enough for me. And fixing up Anton’s Chevy seemed like the best one of all.

  Well, the second best. Treating Michelle to the time of her life would always be first in my mind.

  Chapter 24

  Michelle

  “Michelle!”

  “Yeah, Brad?”

  “Take ten. You’re sweating on the counter.”

  I wiped at my glistening forehead as a giggle escaped my lips.

  “Thanks. I’ll be right back.”

  I shoved myself into the bathroom and quickly splashed some water in my face. The only good part about a severe lunch rush was the tips. But I was exhausted beyond belief. Getting up early and driving from Chicago to Stillsville to cover the late morning to dinner shift was rough. And to top it all off, I felt sick to my stomach. I wasn’t sure why, and I hoped I wasn’t coming down with anything, but as I reared up and looked at myself in the mirror my phone rang.

  “Hello?” I asked.

  “Is this Miss Danforth?”

  “It is. Who’s this?”

  “This is Dale Craig.”

  “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognize your voice. How are you? How is your wife?” I asked.

  “She’s doing better. Took a spill and needed some surgery. We’re all better and settled at home, so I wanted to call you as soon as I could. I’m sorry, but the references you provided aren’t appropriate.”

  “What?” I asked.

  I felt my stomach drop to my toes as nausea rolled in my gut.

  “I know you enjoyed the house, and I would be happy to pass your application on, but I need someone with a grounded rental history for that home. And you don’t have one. I’m sorry, but I won’t be renting the house to you.”

  “Well, um—than—thank you for calling,” I said.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Danforth.”

  “It’s fine!”

  I cringed at how loud that came out.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “Not a problem. I really hope your wife starts feeling better.”

  “Do you want me to pass your application on? I could put in a good word somewhere that doesn’t require strong rental references.”

  “That’s okay. Thank you for the opportunity. I wish you the best.”

  I hung up the phone before I started crying on the line with that man. I couldn’t breathe. It felt as if the walls were closing in on me. The electric jolt of disappointment that ran through my body brought me back from the fairytale of my weekend. Chicago had been perfect, but it wasn’t my life. That was Gray’s life, and this was my life. Rejection, sweating in a diner, and nowhere to live.

  Chicago felt more like a dream with each passing second.

  Where was I going to go after work? I couldn’t go back to Cecily’s. That much I knew. But could I really move back in with Gray? And once the house was sold, where did I go from there? Back to the motel? Gray had made me feel so confident in that house that I’d called and canceled my application with the other properties. I’d have to go back and reapply, which meant more money out of my pocket.

  And until then, where would I be sleeping?

  On the
damn street?

  I pressed my back against the bathroom wall and placed my head in my hands. I wanted to spend all my time with that sexy billionaire. I wanted to spend all of my free time with Gray. I wanted to move back in with him. I wanted to wake up to him. But I couldn’t keep clinging to temporary things. I couldn’t keep hooking my ship to something that wasn’t a guarantee. I had to think about my future. I had to think about the long term.

  And Gray was none of those things.

  I leaned my head against the door and closed my eyes. I allowed Chicago to bombard my mind. Oh, how he made me feel. Pampered and beautiful, and sexy beyond a shadow of a doubt. I allowed my mind to wander. To dream about the day when he left. He’d get down on one knee and take my hand, smiling up at me with that beautiful smile of his. His lips would part and my heart would thunder, and he’d ask me to go with him.

  To go home with him, leaving Stillsville and never looking back.

  I opened my eyes as a tear leaked down my cheek. Even in my mind, it felt so real. So plausible. Could I allow myself to hope that someday he would do that? Could I allow myself to believe that Gray would care enough about me to want to whisk me away? He took me to Chicago. No clothes. No reservations. Just cranked up his car and left. Would it be too much to wonder if he would do it again?

  Take me home with him and not make me come back?

  I drew in a deep breath and wiped my tears away before I returned to my shift. And I was painfully aware of how people whispered. Snickered. Looked at me a little too long with their wandering eyes. I figured everyone in this town knew I was screwing around with Grayson, and they were gawking at my performance. I knew it was about me. I wasn’t an idiot. I didn’t know much about the world and its delicacies, but I knew gossip. I knew small towns. And every time a conversation stopped when I approached, I knew they had been talking about me.

  The stranger from out-of-town making the rounds with the billionaire from out-of-town.

 

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