Page 119 of Morally Black Betrothal

There was nothing in the contract that required me to be an accessory no better than one of my new handbags.

I put out my hand and introduced myself with a friendly smile. “You’ve been so helpful. Simone Bishop.”

The clerk shook my hand with a bemused grin. “I know, honey. Everyone from here to Miami knows who you are by now.”

“Oh?”

There were only a handful of other customers here. But now that I was looking, I saw the quick, fleeting glances my way. People were indeed noticing me.

“You made quite an impression at Jill Blake this morning.” The clerk pulled out his phone and found a TikTok video.

It seemed Brendan was right about social media. I watched a grainy video of myself accepting a thorough kiss from him at the first store we had visited. The audio was TikTok poor, but at one point, you could clearly hear him introduce me as “my fiancée” while a cutout of the poster squealed.

The video had maybe been taken four hours ago. It already had five hundred thousand views. And, as the clerk scrolled a few others, it was clearly not the only one that had been posted of us this morning.

“Congratulations on your engagement,” the clerk said after he put his phone away. “I don’t know how you snagged a man like that, but he is as fine as he is rich. Nice work.”

I didn’t know if I should be offended or not, but I was too busy trying to breathe after seeing for real what Brendan had been trying to tell me all day. From the moment I’d signed that contract and accepted that ring in his office, I’d been on a stage. But until now, I hadn’t realized just how big the audience really was.

These thoughts stayed with me well after we moved to Avondale, the most expensive shop we had entered thus far. Up until now, I’d been messing around, content to try on small things, like day dresses or pants or equally minor things. But theclothes here were for places I’d never dreamed I’d be going until Brendan Black had shown up at my front door.

They were for a character I needed to play, and that had to start now.

“My fiancé and I are celebrating our engagement in a few weeks. What do you have in terms of formalwear?” I raised my voice a little, making sure it filled the space so that others could hear.

Brendan’s brow lifted. I’d spoken before he’d even started to make his own little speech.

To my surprise, the shopgirl nodded immediately. Familiarly, even. “Right this way, Ms. Bishop.”

What a difference a day and a few million views made.

At the back of the store was a green velvet tufted settee surrounded by three racks of floor-length dresses.

“Would you like me to leave you alone to peruse our selection?” the clerk asked. “Or do you need help deciding?”

I gazed around the room, trying not to look intimidated. “How about both? Give me a few minutes and check on me in a bit, please?”

“Absolutely. Call out if you need anything. My name is Ivana.”

“Ivana. Got it, thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” She gave a little bow before walking away.

The bow was overkill, but she was cute, I decided.

Brendan stepped out for yet another phone call while I browsed. Like Ducos, these didn’t even have price tags on them.

Well, I cared. For the first time all day, I cared.

“Excuse me?” I beckoned to a clerk. “Can you tell me how much these dresses are?”

The clerk looked almost confused by the question. Clearly, she had thought it wouldn’t matter. “Oh, well. They vary, but the ones you’re looking at range from three to nine, I believe.”

“Hundred?” My stomach flipped. That was a lot of money.

She blinked. “Um, no. Thousand.”

I could only stare. Okay. I needed to play this part better. What would Fake-Simone do?