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The employee rushed over and quickly did so before returning with a flute of champagne.

“Lucky,” I grumbled.

“Hush. Peasants don’t get bubbly,” Cruz chided.

“You’re sitting across the street sipping an espresso martini, so shut the hell up,” Marco said with a laugh.

“I googled the douchiest drink, and this came up first.”

“No, you did not,” Javier chuckled.

“No, I searched for obnoxious white men’s drinks.”

“Same thing,” I muttered.

Emilia handed off more items to the employee while I turned and checked the street. The area was ritzy, and I didn’t think we’d have any problems. Still, I memorized each passing face in case they showed up again.

Word probably hadn’t spread about her soon enough for anyone to have gained an obsession with her. The last thing we needed on top of everything else was a stalker.

We walked out twenty minutes later with two large bags that I put back in the car while she looked through the windows of the next store.

“Anything interesting?” I asked, keeping several feet between us.

She faced me. “I didn’t realize I’d be spending time out in casual clothes like this. I could put together maybe one more outfit, but the rest of what I brought are formal dresses.”

“It’s a good thing you’re out shopping then,” Cruz sounded amused.

She rolled her eyes. “I just don’t want you guys to think I’m normally like this.”

“Like what?” Javier asked.

“Dropping hundreds of dollars on clothes. Spending a whole day looking at skirts and shoes.”

“It’s not our money,” Marco reminded her. “You have that account for a reason. This mission is incredibly important to the Pack. Rod specifically said to do whatever it takes to pull off your part. That means acting and looking like a woman who has nothing better to do than spend her daddy’s money.”

She wrinkled her nose.

“Look, we all know that isn’t who you really are. You’re hardworking and tougher than any of us. We won’t forget that just because you’re trying on sparkly things,” I said from a few feet behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder with a wide smile. “You better not.”

“Good. Now that we have that settled, go forth and spend,” Cruz laughed through the com.

“Fine.” She pointed toward the next store. “I think they might have some good day outfits.”

As if I was going to contradict her.

I moved past and opened the door, holding it as she strode in with the confidence of the woman I knew.

She did damage. Four stores later, the trunk was packed. I told the driver to head back to the boat and drop off the load while she ate lunch on the patio of a restaurant in the center of the action. The area just a few streets from where we started was lined with people moving between shops and pausing in front of the restaurants to read the menus. The ritzy cars crawled along as if the drivers wanted to be seen by the pedestrians. Rich people with too much money and time on their hands.

I was just supposed to stand and watch as she delicately picked at her Caesar salad while my stomach and bladder warred over which was angrier.

When did real bodyguards eat or piss?Maybe they wore devices that held their pee and snuck protein bars when they had the chance. Unfortunately, I didn’t have anything.

“Cruz, do you have eyes?”

He chuckled. “As a matter of fact, I have two! So do you.”