Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“But you give a lot of money to charity, don’t you?”
He nodded. “Yes, and that helps. I also paid off all my sister’s college loans and her grad school tuition. I offered to buy both her and Neil and my parents new houses, but they all told me to fuck off—not in those words, of course.” He cocked his head. “Actually, I think my sister did use those words.”
“I believe it,” I said. “She seems very independent and proud.”
“She is all that and more.”
Laughing, I rubbed his leg. “I have an older sister too. I know how they can be. It’s funny, I haven’t been to a ballet in forever, but Millie used to perform in them—not professionally, but she was a pretty serious dance student back in the day.”
“Oh yeah?”
I nodded. “She danced until she was maybe fifteen or so and then quit. She even went to a performing arts school for a year.”
“Why did she quit?”
“She said she just outgrew her passion for it, but I think a lot of it was related to pressure to look a certain way. Ballet dancers are traditionally very thin and small-boned, and Millie is built differently—it was a constant struggle for her to maintain a certain size and she was just tired of fighting it.”
“Was it hard for her to quit?”
“Oh yeah. There were a lot of tears and serious talks behind closed doors. But I think my dad and Frannie were really glad she decided to quit because she was so unhappy. I was only like eleven or twelve, but I remember the tension in the house.” I thought back to that time, how Millie had struggled—I’d hear her crying in her room and felt helpless to cheer her up. “But she seemed relieved once the decision was made. Plus, the twins had just been born, so there was a lot of chaos in the house. Frannie was glad to have Millie around more often to help. She was so good with them.”
“You weren’t?”
I laughed. “Not like Millie was. I thought they were noisy and boring. I liked them better when they got bigger and I could read stories to them—they liked the silly voices I’d do. But anyway, I’m really excited about tonight.” Tipping my head onto his shoulder, I took his hand, lacing my fingers through his as New York sped by outside the window. “Thanks again for everything. Sorry I got a little weird back there. I do trust you.”
“Good. And you’re welcome.”
We pulled up at The Pierre, and Hutton told the driver when to come back for us and where we’d be going. Then he got out, offered his hand, and helped me down. I held onto it as we entered the hotel, took the elevator up to our floor, and walked down the hall toward our suite.
He opened the door and let me in first, and as I crossed the threshold, I remembered what I said to Millie about wanting to enjoy this make-believe love affair with Hutton in case I never had the real thing. At that point, my biggest worry was being caught in the lie. Now I realized I was starting to worry about something else.
This love affair might not be make-believe at all.
But that was ridiculous, right?
Of course it was. I was just having a good time living like a Kardashian, and I was confusing that feeling with something else. It was totally understandable. All I had to do was keep reminding myself what this was, and what this wasn’t.
Millie called while I was drying my hair.
“Hello?”
“Are you dripping in diamonds?”
I laughed. “No. I tried on a few today at Tiffany though.”
She gasped. “Stop it! You really went to Tiffany?”
“Yes, but only to look. We’re going to Chinatown tomorrow to buy a fake.”
“The best cubic zirconia money can buy?”
“Exactly. Believe me, he’s spending enough on this trip.”
“How’s everything going with you two?”
“Great.”
“Are the rumors true? Did he tie you up?”
“Maybe, and not yet.”
“Wait, what?”
I glanced at the door and lowered my voice, barely speaking above a whisper. “I think there is some truth to those rumors, but he hasn’t really shown me that side of himself yet.”
She gasped. “So would you let him?”
I paused, then deflected. “I have to go because we’re leaving in like twenty minutes and I still don’t know what I’m going to wear.”
“Do you have a safe word?”
“Millie!”
“I suggest something else.”
“I don’t need a safe word.”
“Oklahoma. Bumblebee. Roy Kent.”
“Goodbye, Millie.” I could still hear her laughing as I ended the call.
Wrapped in one of those fancy robes, I went into the bedroom and opened my bag to sort through the clothing I’d brought—much of it Winnie’s. This morning, after an emergency call from me, she had swung by on her way to work with an armful of dresses and a bag of shoes. I spread three dresses out on the bed and considered them, finally deciding on the little black dress with cap sleeves.