Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“A coat, boots, thermals, a pair of jeans, and a sweatshirt if you have it,” I answered for her.
“That could work,” she said, though I couldn’t read the look Jolie tossed at me before she was propelled through the store by Stacy.
Was that a pleading that she wanted me to come with? My eyes found the dressing room and had to stop myself from forming fantasies in my head.
11
Jolie
There had to be history between the pretty blonde and Grant, given the acid smile she’d given me when she spotted me with him. Then there was Grant, so quick to clear up any misinterpretation on her part when he spelled out that I was a client.
Why was I even upset? He was a giant turd… who was doing me a big favor. He didn’t have to drive with me.
“So, how do you know Grant?” the blonde asked.
I could feel the creases deepening in my forehead as I might have slightly… who am I kidding, snarkily said, “I’m the client.”
“Oh…” That seemed to be her go-to word. “Yeah, he said that.” There was a small pause, but I could tell she had more to say. “But Grant hasn’t brought a client into town. Not after his mother—” Her mouth formed a giant Ooo. “Never mind. I’m just surprised he would ask me to open in this weather for a client.”
She wouldn’t win prizes for investigative skills. She was clearly fishing for more information about Grant and me. I could easily just say there wasn’t an us, but I found myself interested in what she started to say about Grant’s mother.
“What happened with his mother?” I asked.
Her eyes glittered as I gave her my full attention. She was obviously a gossip and was dying to tell me.
“Not really my place. But I will say, Grant isn’t one to bring anyone in town, especially a client,” she repeated.
Her emphasis on client was enough that I assumed she didn’t believe it.
“I am just a client. I wasn’t expecting to be in a blizzard,” I said.
“Yeah. Okay. I’m sure all the single women in town will be happy to know that Grant is still on the market.” I shrugged. “Well, let’s see what we can find.”
For the next twenty minutes, she pulled from racks like I had an unlimited budget. Then again, I’d told Grant that Christian approved one.
“Try these,” she said, piling clothes in my arms like we had all day.
I distinctively remembered Grant suggesting one pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, not a complete wardrobe change.
The fitting room was generous, and I was able to dump the clothes on a bench. Before I could even look at what she’d saddled me with there was a knock at the door.
“We don’t have all day, Highness,” Grant said.
“I’m aware, asshat.” That last word was muttered much like my words, “So much for a fresh start.”
“What was that?” he asked.
“Nothing,” and then I added, “You can go, because if you think I’ll put on some weird runway show for you, you have another thing coming.”
“Trust me, if I want a show, there are plenty of women who’d be willing to give me one.”
“Go bother them,” I said, slightly raising my voice but didn’t add he could start with the salesclerk who was obviously interested in him.
I wasn’t sure if he’d left as I fished out a pair of jeans and made quick work of trying them on. Then I pulled out not a sweatshirt but a fuzzy V-neck sweater that made my boobs looks fantastic.
When he gave the door a stiff knock, I swung it open. His eyes immediately dropped. When he met my eyes again, I sported a scowl.
“Did you get a good enough look?”
In Grant fashion, he totally ignored me like I was the crazy one. “We have to go. They are talking about closing more roads.”
Stacy, that was her name. It just came to me. She appeared.
Grant hooked a thumb in my direction. “We’ll take that and another set like it as well as a coat and boots,” he said.
He followed Stacy to go find those things as I turned back and fumbled through the pile until I heard Grant say, “Here’s my card.”
I dropped everything and jogged to the register. “I can pay for my own clothes,” I said, pulling my wallet out and producing a credit card.
I felt sweat form on the back of my neck, as I hadn’t looked at the total until after I gave her the card. I was close to maxing out my balance and wasn’t sure it would go through. I might have let out an audible sigh when the flirtatious Stacy who hadn’t stopped smiling at Grant handed me my card back.
Then she approached with scissors and I nearly put my hands up prepared to fight.
“Grant said you’d be wearing this out,” she said with a weariness in her gaze.