DARK REMI: A Billionaire Romance (NIGHT OF THE DIAMONDS SERIES Book 2) by Shayne Ford

Author:Shayne Ford [Ford, Shayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-15T16:00:00+00:00

9

From the hangers, I retrieve the dresses that I bought yesterday, and from a box, I pull out my new shoes. I try them on, one by one, twirl a few times and take a few selfies in the mirror.

I send a couple to Lainey.

Her reply comes in a flash.

Lainey: Love them. They both look good on you. I want to see more.

I send her a few more photographs.

Lainey: Which one did you pick for tonight?

Me: Not sure.

I call her.

“What do you think?”

She takes her time as she muses over her answer.

“I’d say the metallic dress.”

“Isn’t it too much?”

“Either one of them is too much. Especially for you. You should start rehearsing strutting in your heels.”

“I’m good.”

“No, no. You know what I mean. Put on your dress and shoes, check your posture, and try to relax. Put a smile on your face too. Maybe?”

“Don’t push it,” I say, laughing.

“All right... I’ll let you to it. Keep me posted.”

“Sure.”

A moment later, I set the phone on a chair, and the metallic dress back on the hanger.

I check the time before I pick the only other elegant dress that I have in my wardrobe–– ‘my funeral dress,’ and take another selfie.

It looks decent, not glamorous enough to impress someone like Lainey’s boss, but elegant enough to meet and greet Sherrie’s special guest.

Her name barely pops into my head when my phone hums with a message.

Sherrie: Make sure you get there on time. Don’t make him wait.

Me: I’ll be there.

I take the phone with me in the bathroom, where I spend a few more minutes applying my makeup––a coat of mascara, a bit of eyeliner, slight blush, and nude lipstick.

I look pale and unhappy, so I dig deeper into my makeup bag and find a red lipstick that I’ve never used.

I make an effort to paint my lips without messing the contour. It looks half decent in the end, and the best thing is, the color matches my shoes.

I take a cab to work and arrive ten minutes before the client is supposed to come.

The girl working the floor is busy with other customers while I use Sherrie’s office in the back–– per her instructions, making sure that whatever information the mysterious client needs, I have it handy.

Five minutes later, I walk out of my boss’ office, strut across the room, and stop near the windows.

A few pedestrians catch my attention. People walk in and out of the art galleries and the gift shops, carrying shopping bags while holding children's hands.

It no longer snows, a ray of sunlight dribbling on the sidewalk.

I check the time again and send Sherrie a message.

Me: He’s late.

Her response comes right away.

Sherrie: He’ll be there.

Phone clutched in my hand, I toss another glance at the street when a luxury ride starts crawling down the road before coming to a smooth stop in front of the store.

I notice the suit-clad driver behind the wheel before I instinctively jerk my gaze to the back door.

Please don’t tell me that it’s him again.

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