Page 84
Story: Sugar
Because I wanted the implication of that money. I liked the fact he’d bought me. That I belonged to him. That I was powerless.
A purchase.
Thatwas what gave me pause. In Easton’s version, I was only his date. He didn’t so much as hint at more, though I probably would’ve agreed to it.
Okay, there was no probably. I totally would’ve.
But that wasn’t what we were, and I’d taken the time to ensure I could remember that it was just business. That I was capable of separating my feelings.
I could enjoy him.
Enjoy our time together.
Enjoy going a little deeper as I explored the wading pool.
As long as I kept my head above water, I would be fine.
I hoped.
At the second impatient knock, I called out, “One second.”
Pausing in front of my big mirror, I gave my reflection one last critical scan as I checked for smudged makeup, wild hair, or my dress tucked into my panties. Everything was in place, so I opened the door and spoke as I spun to grab my bag. “Hi. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you for another fifteen minutes.”
At the stretching silence, I turned back to see Easton scanning down my body. Not for the first time, I wished that his expression wasn’t always so blank. I’d kill for some indication into what he was thinking.
When he finally met my eyes, he simply said, “I wasn’t sure if you’d need help again.”
The dress he’d sent—that time with a white gold necklace and bangle set—was a black cocktail one with no complicated straps to strangle myself with. It wasn’t plain or boring, though. The satin had a black velvet rose design on it, with a structured bodice that felt tailor-made for my body, and a skirt short enough to show off my legs but not short enough to show off my ass cheeks.
“Not this time,” I said with a laugh.
“I’ll have June choose better next time.”
I froze, my horrified gaze shooting to him. “You have your administrator shopping for me?”
“I don’t think you’d like what I would put you in,” he said.
I scoffed. “Of course I didn’t think you did the shopping yourself. I just assumed you had someone else do it.”
“I do.”
“No, like one of those personal shoppers at the store. Now I feel bad. June shouldn’t be wasting her time like that. She has fish to take care of.”
“Don’t feel bad. Trust me, she will probably hug you next time she sees you. She gets a day out of the office, and I know for a fact she’s bought herself three tops and two pairs of shoes on my dime. If you take that away from her,thenshe’ll be upset.”
That made me feel better, even if the whole thing was still awkward as hell. I wanted to ask what she thought of being sent to buy the items. Whether she knew they were for me.
Whether—like the assistant who’d now been roped into two deliveries—that was a new part of her job description, or if she’d been through that scenario a dozen different times.
Deciding I’d rather not know, I swallowed my natural instinct to ask a million questions. About that, at least. He never made it a rule I couldn’t annoy him about his work, so I put my intrusiveness toward that.
“More court prep today?” I asked as we walked into the hallway, pausing so I could lock the door behind us.
“Met with a client to review options.”
“What client and what options?”
He blinked at me, making it abundantly clear I wasn’t getting anything else from him. Sure enough, he turned the conversation to me. “More schoolwork?”
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