Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Half an hour later, I have to pinch myself because it doesn’t seem real. It’s like stepping into some sort of fantasy world.
I spent most of my life wearing donated clothes. When I was finally on my own, I had to scrimp and save for everything I had. I could still remember those days when I’d stand outside the stores, watching the sparkly dresses on display and wondering how they would look on me.
Now, Jack is making all of my dreams come true. This is why he’s my Daddy.
The idea of someone taking care of me this way is so foreign that I begin to fear it’s all been just a wonderful dream. Am I going to wake up in my little one-room apartment disappointed the dream has ended? I suppose that’s my biggest fear. I’ve finally found somewhere I feel wanted and special. If that goes away, I don’t know what I would do.
Rory pulls up in front of the boutique and lets me out of the car. He holds the door for me and follows me inside, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. I can’t blame him. He does look out of place with his massive frame, gruff exterior, and intimidating stare.
He nods to the woman at the checkout counter and says, “Give her anything and everything she wants.”
The woman’s eyes light up as though she’s just won the lottery. She turns to me with a huge smile. “Let us know if you need any help, dear.”
My head swims as I take in the array of dresses ranging from short and sexy to long and flowing. I don’t know where to begin. What’s the protocol here? I don’t even know where we’re going. I consider calling Jack for some guidance but a mid-length royal blue dress catches my eye. My hand reaches out to it, and I pull it off the rack and take it to the fitting room.
The woman raps at the door and asks, “Would you like to come out and take a look in the mirrors?”
I hesitate, unsure if I’m ready for this sort of attention, but I don’t want to be rude either, so I open the door and step out. The woman looks me up and down, then turns me in a circle and breathes, “That dress was made for you.”
She takes my hand and pulls me to the circle of mirrors in the center of the store. I take a deep breath and look at myself. She’s right. For the first time in my life, I feel truly beautiful. God, I can’t even recognize myself.
I never understood when people say something “fits like a glove” until now. I can’t stop looking in the mirror, wondering who’s that girl staring back at me. It can’t be the orphan turned bartender now nanny, right?
Is this what happiness looks like? Is this what a girl…in love looks like?
“You’ll need shoes and accessories,” the woman tells me. “Sit down and I’ll bring some options over for you. Would you like some water, coffee, tea, or wine?”
It’s six forty-five and I take a final look at myself before heading down the stairs. Jack is talking on his cell phone and doesn’t see me coming. Thank goodness for that. It would have been so awkward having him watch me.
He glances at me and does a double-take. His eyes darken, and his mouth hangs open. With his phone in his ear, he stands motionless and just stares.
“Yes, yes, sorry. I need to call you back,” he says and abruptly ends his call.
I stop at the foot of the stairs and rest my hand on the banister, palms already starting to sweat. “Do you like it? Is it too much?”
“Too much? No, baby girl, it’s not too much. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He walks to me, takes my hand, and brushes his lips along my knuckles, which almost makes me whimper. “Let’s get out of here before I change my mind and carry you back up those stairs.”
My chest gets hot at his words and I lightly touch the rhinestone choker the store clerk selected for me. Jack moves my hand away and holds it firmly as he escorts me to the car.
“You’re driving?” I ask.
“Yes. Tonight we’re distancing ourselves from everything and everyone. For the next few hours, we’re all that matters.”
We drive through the part of the city where I lived and shopped and continue over the bridge that divides the affluent from those of us who have to wonder how we’ll pay our bills. Even the lights seem brighter on this side of town.
Soon, they fade into the background and Jack continues to drive with one hand resting on my thigh.
“We aren’t eating in the city?” I ask.
“Not this city.”
He hops onto the interstate and takes the exit for the airport.