Page 101 of My Destiny

“Let me know if you need a hand,” the assistant says to her before turning her attention to me. “You can take a seat there.”

My phone dings the moment I sit down. Pulling it out of my pocket, I see it’s from Claire.

All the good seats are sold out for the weekend shows, but I can get box seats during the week.

I’m not concerned about what day we go; I just want her to have the best experience possible.

Box seats sound good, just make sure you keep my schedule open that day.

I can’t wait to surprise her with these tickets. She can wear one of the dresses she’s trying on.

Okay, I’ll purchase them now. The contractor got back to me earlier too. He can meet you at the site tomorrow afternoon at two. Do you want me to confirm that time?

Time isn’t on my side, so I’ll have to arrange for someone to come to the penthouse to sit with Brooke. I only have a matter of weeks to get this warehouse converted.

Two’s perfect. Thanks, Claire.

When I hear Brooke clear her throat, I look up from the phone. “Jesus,” I say as all the air leaves my body. “Babe, you look beautiful.”

“It’s pretty isn’t it?” Her face lights up as she admires the dress in the mirror.

“We should get it.” I stand and close the distance between us.

“It’s four-and-a-half-thousand-dollars,” she whispers so only I can hear. “I can’t afford that.”

“But I can.”

“No you can’t.”

“I earn more than that in an hour.”

Her eyes slightly widen at my admission. “Irrelevant.”

I sigh. “Try one of the others then.”

“They’re just as expensive.”

“Just try them,” I say, slapping her arse.

“It’s pointless.”

“Would you do it for me? Please.”

She sighs before heading back into the fitting room.

Each dress looks just as beautiful as the next, but I’m pretty sure she’d look good in anything. “Which one was your favourite?” I ask, once she’s changed back into her own clothes.

“I’m not telling,” she answers.

“Why?” I ask, chuckling.

“Because I know you too well, Mr. Cavanagh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not fooling me. As soon as I tell you which dress is my favourite, you’ll buy it.”

“Actually, you’re wrong,” I say, taking the dresses out of her hand. She stands there watching me, as I walk towards the sales assistant.