All That He Requires(8)
Click! Click! Click!
I sighed. “That was in a Z formation, wasn’t it.”
“YES IT WAS. So, now that the butler and the call girl have finished their repartee, what can I do for you gentlemen?”
“First, you can be nice to Lily,” Connor snapped.
“That WAS me being nice to Lily.”
“That’s the sad thing, unfortunately,” Connor grumbled, but I just grinned.
“How’s your vacation so far?” Johnny asked.
“Lovely, until you interrupted it, thank you for asking. Javier’s a dream.”
Javier was the hairdresser in Los Angeles Sebastian had flown out to see. On very short notice. Without much warning.
I guess it hadn’t been a problem.
“But you didn’t call to ask about that, so what disaster shall I fix for you?”
“I can’t get a table at Robuchon’s,” Connor said.
“Yes, and the world is about to end,” I added.
Connor glared at me.
Then Sebastian spoke – with unbridled glee, I might add.
“Whaaat?!… STEVEN couldn’t get one for you?”
Johnny elbowed me lightly in the ribs and arched his eyebrows like, See? See?!
Connor sighed. “No, he couldn’t. I like him, but Steven is… insufficiently forceful, I’m afraid.”
“Or insufficiently bitchy,” Johnny muttered.
“I heard that, Kato.”
“Was that racist?” Johnny asked good-naturedly.
“Depends – does it make me the Green Hornet?” Connor asked.
“If you mean the clueless white boy who gets all the credit while Bruce Lee does all the work, then yes, that would be you.”
I looked at Connor with my mouth open like Ohhh SNAP!
He grinned and winked at me.
“Bruce Lee… I like that,” Johnny said, straightening the lapels of his suit.
“Mmm, me likey that, too.”
“Ewww, Sebastian!” Johnny shouted.
“I meant the original, not the knockoff, Mr. Homophobe.”
“You better watch it, I’ll tell Javier you said that about Bruce Lee,” Johnny warned.
“Now who’s being bitchy?”
“Focus,” Connor called out.
“I’ll call you back in five minutes with the reservation. I KNOW people over there… unlike Steven.”
“Thank you, Sebastian.”
“The things I do for you, Connor… and on my vacation… tearing me away from a Latin heartthrob just to run your little errands…”
“I could call Steven again if you’re too busy,” Connor offered. “Maybe he could try again.”
“DON’T YOU DARE.”
Connor and Johnny looked at me like, SEE?!
I rolled my eyes and bobbed my head slightly from side to side, like, Alright, you called it.
“Thank you, Sebastian,” Connor said. “I’d be lost without you.”
“I know,” Sebastian said happily, then hung up the phone.
11
Sebastian came through with the reservation – which meant the start of the next round of negotiations.
“Will you at least put on the bulletproof vest?” Johnny asked.
“No,” Connor said as he popped a piece of cheese in his mouth and took a sip of the white wine that room service had brought.
“Fine – I just won’t drive you, then.”
“Fine. I’ll just take the Lamborghini, then.”
As they quarreled, I wandered the main room of the penthouse. It wasn’t the Dubai, but it was pretty damn nice. The ceiling towered thirty feet overhead, and a curving staircase made of pounded bronze connected the first floor with the second. Luxurious couches were scattered throughout the room. The marble flooring – dark green swirled and speckled with white – reflected back the dim lighting from far overhead, with the occasional rug thrown in here and there. There was a flat-screen TV on the wall that was as big as a car, a full bar made of the same speckled marble, and a kitchen and dining area down a hallway to the left. Twenty-foot-high glass windows overlooked the lights of the city and the mountains beyond. The sun had just set, and the sky was a gorgeous burnt orange that faded to deep indigo.
“When’s the reservation?” Johnny grumbled.
“In 45 minutes.”
“It only takes 15 minutes to get there, so… are you hanging out here till then?” Johnny asked hopefully.
“No, we’re going somewhere else first.”
Johnny groaned. “Great.”
“It’s not for me, it’s for Lily.”
I turned around at the sound of my name. “For me? Where?”
Connor grinned. “It’s a surprise.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Johnny muttered under his breath.
12
Turned out our destination was the Via Bellagio in the Bellagio hotel.
Johnny drove us in the Bentley, then dropped it off with valets and accompanied us into the hallway of marble and glass and wrought-iron ceilings. My eyes goggled as we walked past stores for Chanel, Giorgio Armani, Tiffany & Co., Dior, Prada.
“See anything you like?” Connor asked as we mingled through the crowd.
“Yeah, of course – it’s all gorgeous. Well, most of it.” Some of the purses I’d seen were truly hideous.
“Well, pick something out so we can go to dinner, I’m starving.”
I stared up at him. “What?”
“Pick out an outfit, we need to get going.”
I froze to the spot and looked around me. “H… here?”
He frowned. “Yes, here.”
I shook my head. “I… I can’t go in there…”
“Sure you can. Come on.”
He took my hand and dragged me into the Prada store. Johnny followed along ten steps behind, quite amused.
Inside it was nearly deserted, with only a couple of salespeople in the store. A forty-something woman in a stylish business suit came over. “How may I help you?” she asked politely.
“We’re just looking,” I said, stark terror rising up inside me.
“No we’re not,” Connor informed her. “We need ready-to-wear for her.”
“Right this way,” the woman smiled, then walked off ahead of us.
“I don’t want to do this,” I whispered frantically.
“Why not? Just get something for dinner.”
“Connor – these dresses cost a lot of money!”
“No they don’t,” he said as he towed me along behind him.
“Connor, they cost thousands of dollars apiece!”
“That’s not a lot of money.”
“What?! Yes it is – ”
“This is nice – you like this?” Connor asked, pointing to a gorgeous red dress that looked like it belonged on Angelina Jolie.
“Yes, but – ”
Connor turned to the saleswoman. “Let her try this on in – what’s your size?” he asked me.
I blushed a shade close to the color of the dress, walked over, and whispered in the saleswoman’s ear. She nodded and headed for the racks.
I turned back to Connor. “I can’t afford this!”
“Well, technically, now you can.”
He was talking about his $50,000 gift.
“I don’t want to waste money on a dress I can’t wear anywhere – ”
“You’re wearing it to dinner.”
“But – ”
“And besides, I’m buying it, not you.”
“No.”
He frowned. “Yes.”
I set my jaw. “You said that you hated it when women always wanted to go shopping with your money.”
“A, I meant they wanted to go shopping without me. B, technically I’m going shopping with you, which other women didn’t really care about so long as I pulled out my card at the end. And C, I can tell you really don’t want to be doing this, so you’re in the clear.”
I glared at him unhappily.
He looked at me like he couldn’t understand what was going on in my head. “Why is this bothering you so much?”
I wrapped my arms around me and held on to my body like I was cold. “I don’t know… I just… I’m not used to any of this. Buying a two thousand dollar dress just for dinner – how much is dinner going to be?!”
“12.99. Prime rib buffet.”
I stamped my foot and stared at him like, Can’t you be serious?
He broke out into a rueful smile and shook his head. “Just enjoy it, Lily. Enjoy the moment, and don’t worry about the price tag.”
“I can’t do that. This is a lot of money to somebody like me, even if it isn’t to you.”
“I have a dress in the lady’s size,” the saleswoman said as she walked over.
Connor raised his index finger in the air without looking at her. His eyes were locked on me instead. “Can you give us a moment?”
“Of course,” she said, and melted away into the background.
“Okay, the way I see it, there’s several options here,” Connor said in a low, neutral voice as he stared into my eyes. “One is that you’re trying desperately not to be like other women I’ve been with. If that’s the case – ”
“I just don’t want to – ” I tried to break in.
“Let me talk,” he continued, gently but firmly. “If that’s the case, then mission accomplished. Believe me, I don’t think you’re after my money. And I know it’s not a show. You’re worried that I’ll think you’re using me. I don’t.