Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“This china is gorgeous,” she says, holding the cup up so she can check it out. “So dainty and sweet.”
“I believe they sell it,” I reply and take a bite of my own croissant. “If you ever want some for yourself.”
“I’ll enjoy it here,” she says and bites into her pastry. She moans and closes her eyes, not unlike the way she did when I was inside of her less than an hour ago. “Jesus, the food here is so good.”
“French food is amazing,” I agree. “Do you want some scrambled eggs? Bacon? They brought a little of everything.”
“Bacon,” she agrees. “And more coffee. So, what are we doing today? I don’t think that any of the shows or parties start until tomorrow.”
I refresh our drinks and food and then decide to bring the whole table closer to the bed.
“We’re shopping. Just you and me.”
That makes her eyes light up. “We are? I’d like that.”
“Didn’t you have fun with London yesterday?” I pass her the coffee, and she takes a sip and then frowns down into her cup. “You can tell me; I’m a vault.”
That makes her smile, and she leans over to kiss my shoulder.
“I know. It’s not that I didn’t have fun. I did. London knows so much about the brands, and she already knows the sales associates in the stores, so it’s nice to already have a contact there.”
“Okay.” I watch her face as she seems to choose her words carefully.
“I love the blouse I got,” she continues. “And yes, there were some other things that caught my eye.”
“But?”
“But I want to go to Chanel,” she says and cringes. “And I didn’t want to sound difficult because I know she made those appointments for us. I love the ready-to-wear clothes at Chanel. And yes, there were some things at Dior that I liked, but I didn’t want to spend the money there until I’d seen what Chanel has to offer first, because I don’t want to go crazy until after the shows when I can buy the new seasons’ stuff. Does that make sense?”
It all starts to make perfect sense, and I sigh in relief. She’s not freaking out about the money; she’s trying to be thoughtful and mindful of her choices.
And I can respect that.
“I get it. I’ll arrange for an appointment at Chanel first thing so you can choose what you want, and then we’ll make our way back to Dior so you can pick up anything else you’d like.”
“Thanks.” She grins, obviously excited about that idea.
“What about jewelry?”
She blinks. “What about it?”
“Well, I’d like to buy you some. Cartier, Van Cleef and Arpels, Chopard…is there anything you prefer, or should we go to all of them? They’re right here, so it’s not out of the way.”
She’s staring at me with those green eyes, and then she bites her lip.
“All of those are amazing brands.” Her voice is soft, and it makes me smile.
“Do you have a preference?”
“Not really.”
“Then we’ll go to all of them.” I take a bite of bacon. “We’re going to shop until we drop today. We’d better hydrate.”
Polly laughs and then shakes her head. “Why does this feel like a Pretty Woman moment?”
“In what way?”
“You know…the rich guy takes the poor girl shopping on Rodeo Drive.”
I shake my head, not particularly liking that comparison. “I’m just a man crazy about a woman who likes to shop, and I want to spoil her senseless. Plus, we’re not on Rodeo Drive. We’re in Paris.”
Polly’s shoulders shimmy with excitement.
“We’re totally in Paris. I can be ready to go in less than an hour.”
“Then I’ll start making those appointments.”
By the time she comes out of the bathroom, looking fucking amazing in a black dress that I know she got at her shop, her thick hair swept up in a high ponytail, and her makeup perfect, I’ve managed to secure a full day of appointments.
And, just as she wanted, we’re starting at Chanel.
“Holy shit,” Polly whispers as we come down to the lobby and see all the paparazzi gathered around the front of the Ritz. “What’s going on?”
“It’s fashion week,” I remind her. “They’re hoping to catch glimpses of celebrities.”
“Well, I’m about to disappoint them,” she replies as we walk outside.
The shutters immediately start to go off, and someone calls out to me.
“Mr. Wild, can you pose for us, please?”
I shake my head as security flanks us, and we set off down the block, over to the Chanel store.
“This is insane,” Polly breathes. “I know I keep using that word, and it could get annoying, but I don’t have any other words for it. We’re going to the original store?”
“Yep, the one on Rue Cambon.”
“I might cry,” she says and squeezes my hand, practically skipping with her excitement. “You’ve been warned.”
“So noted.” I lift her hand to my lips as we walk into the store. We’re immediately greeted by the sales associate that’s been assigned to us and shown into a room upstairs where we can shop privately.