Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
I agreed. “For now, we’re secure in the apartment that Caleb has us staying in, and I’m already looking into places that have a doorman and security for when we move out.” I was grateful to Caleb that my sister and I wouldn’t have to move back to our old neighborhood.
The car slowed in the heavy traffic and tried to merge over to drop us off at the curb. I glanced out the back seat window, frowning when I realized what part of Manhattan we were in. One that was upscale with rows upon rows of exclusive, high-end designer shops.
“You said you knew a place where we could buy dresses for the charity gala,” I said, looking back at Raven. “Anything located on Fifth Avenue is way beyond my budget.”
Raven flashed me a gregarious grin. “Just humor me, okay? We’re going to a boutique that carries more formal dresses, and I want your opinion on what to choose.”
I relaxed at her explanation. I could help Raven select a gown at one of these ritzy places, and then we’d hit up a more affordable department store for me. Despite the money I had sitting in my bank account thanks to Caleb’s generosity, the last thing I wanted to do was squander thousands of dollars on a dress I’d only wear once.
The driver finally found an open spot to let us out, and I met up with Raven on the sidewalk. She looped her arm through mine, leading me past Christian Dior, Louis Vuitton, and even Bergdorf Goodman until we reached a store that might have been smaller than those other designers, but the moment we walked in it gave off that same exclusive, elite atmosphere.
Raven, God love her, walked in like she owned the joint, even though she was wearing a casual blouse and well-worn jeans like I was. Then again, she had come from money, even if she was estranged from her adoptive mother and hadn’t relied on the Kanes’ family wealth in a very long time. But she’d also married a man with copious amounts of money…so, yeah, she was far more used to this kind of shopping experience than I was.
There were two salesladies in the store. One was checking out a customer at the register, and the other was helping another shopper choose a pair of heels in the shoe section. Both women eyed Raven and I with distaste the moment we entered, as if we were two homeless people who’d wandered in off the street.
Feeling out of place and uncomfortable, I stayed close to Raven’s side as she browsed the front area of the store, seemingly oblivious to the other women’s stares—or more like she didn’t give a shit what they thought of her—while I didn’t dare touch a thing as she continued to peruse a section with a few gorgeous gowns and dresses. The one thing I noticed was that there was no indication on any of the garments of what they cost.
I stood next to Raven, speaking in a low tone. “These gowns don’t have prices on them.”
Raven smirked at me. “Of course they don’t, because money is no object to the women who shop here.”
Yeah, that definitely excluded me.
“Can I help the two of you with something?”
The snobby voice from directly behind us made me stiffen, and when both Raven and I turned around, the saleslady’s mouth was flattened with disdain as her gaze flicked down the length of us, clearly disapproving of our attire. Probably of us in general.
“Yes, you absolutely can,” Raven said in a bright, animated tone. “We’d like to try on a few gowns.”
We? I had to clench my jaw because my immediate response was to blurt out no, I most definitely did not want to try on dresses here, because what the hell, Raven?
The woman gave us another disapproving look that made my stomach churn. “Can I ask how you’ll be paying for any purchases today?” she asked, still in that haughty tone. “We have a no shopping without intention policy and we require pre-approval before pulling the gowns for you to try on.”
A rule meant to exclude casual browsers, no doubt.
“Of course.” Smiling sweetly, Raven opened her purse and withdrew her form of payment from her wallet. “Here’s my credit card,” she said, handing over the sleek black card before retrieving a second one and giving that to the saleslady, as well. “And this one is for her,” she said, indicating me.
I stood there in confusion as the woman pursed her lips, her gaze narrowed on the last card Raven had given her before her eyes raised back up again. “The name on this card says Caleb Kane. His wife, Alyssa Kane, is a client here but she has her own card. I’m sure this has to be some kind of mistake,” she said, as if Raven had found the credit card laying on the sidewalk and was trying to pass it off as her own.