“You know what, let me take care of that for you,” he said with a half smile. No way was his girlfriend—fake or not—riding the public bus around Phoenix, “and no more dollar store flip flops for you.”
“These came from Old Navy. They have this sale once a year—”
“No sales, Bella. You’ll have to maintain a certain image that is an extension of my own. For my girlfriend or fiancée to wear cheap plastic shoes—that makes me look like a cheapskate. A shitty boyfriend.”
“I would never expect my boyfriend to pay my bills and buy my shoes.”
“No, you wouldn’t. But the people in my circle would, and my stockholders would certainly judge me unfavorably if you’re running around Phoenix dressed like you can’t afford a coffee. Your job now instead of cleaning, is to go get yourself a designer purse and a grande at Starbucks and walk around the shops. Have a nice lunch. Buy something you like just because you like it. Act like a woman who has a new lover and nothing to worry about.”
“Oh,” she said, getting to her feet, arranging the pillows and beginning to make the bed.
“You don’t have to do that anymore,” he said with a half smile, “you have people to do that for you. Go for a swim or sleep late. Greta will call you about your appointment to go shopping.”
He was surprised by the surge of sheer delight he experienced at the ability to spoil her. Here was a girl used to taking care of herself. It was a rare treat for him to get to pamper her. He was used to dating women who expected exotic trips and expensive jewels. Women who were impossible to impress. Not Bella. She wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever met.
Chapter 11
Bella had been for a leisurely swim, had a shower and wandered to the kitchen for breakfast. Greta had given her a two pm appointment with the shopper and PR had left her a message that there was a reservation at a hot new pop-up club uptown where the pair could be spotted out and about. It was nine in the morning and she had no clue what to do with herself. She wasn’t used to not working. She ate a yogurt and fruit and decided to head down to the stables. When she got there, Mariel practically tackled her, jumping up and down with excitement.
“Babe, you were holding out on me. That is one sweet ride you got there!”
“Uh—um, what?”
“I got the vibe with you and Harvey, but it wasn’t until I saw that car that I knew he was serious. I’ve seen him walk out about two dozen girls out of this house in my time but I never saw him move one in, and right in style!”
“Car?”
“No. Do not tell me you haven’t seen it! Come on. Right now. Out front. Move!” She chivvied Bella ahead of her to the horseshoe drive in front of the Spanish style villa. Parked right in front of the fountain was a gleaming late model Corvette convertible in glossy candy apple red.
Her jaw dropped.
Bella approached it in disbelief, sure it must be someone else’s, some rich visitor. As she reached it, she saw an envelope taped to the steering wheel, her name scrawled across it. She reached in and opened it. The keys fell out in her hand and a note that read, My girl doesn’t take the bus. –Harvey
She squealed. An honest to God, high-pitched, my-middle-school-volleyball-team-is-going-to-state-tourney squeal. The kind that went with ponytails and braces and poor lip gloss choices. She practically tore the door open and then paused, halfway in the car as if frozen.
“What’s wrong?” demanded Mariel.
“Nobody has ever done anything this nice for me.”
“Enjoy the moment. It’s yours.”
“I’ve never sat in a new car before. I haven’t. I have my license but I haven’t used it, not since high school when the payday loans came due and my dad’s car got repo’d.”
“So it’s time to drive. I call shotgun!” Mariel jumped into the car, right in the open window of the convertible.
“Hey, keep your boots on the paper. I don’t want horse shit on my floor mats,” Bella joked. Mariel laughed, pulled off her boots and tossed them out of the car onto the driveway.
“Let’s go!”
Bella’s phone rang, the work cell she was supposed to keep with her. Harvey’s face appeared on screen, and she hastened to smooth her hair, realizing she was being Facetimed, not just called.
“So do you like your new ride?” he said archly.
“Love it!” she said, “I’m just shocked. I never expected you to get me an actual car! I mean, it’s beautiful and perfect and everything I ever dreamed of, it’s just…so totally different from my real life.”
“This is your real life now. Now that you’re with me,” he said.
“You’re too sweet. Can I keep you?” she laughed.