“White Russian,” I said when the bartender asked what I wanted.
“I’ll have one too, it sounds interesting,” Ann said.
At first, I was seized by fear, hoping she wouldn’t be disappointed being presented with the drink, but she wasn’t, and we drank White Russians all night long.
Another thing I was learning was how to dress better. At least better than I had been, taking careful note of what the women around me were wearing, all of them looking absolutely gorgeous.
I waited until the next day, during my lunch break. Everything in moderation and all that. It wasn’t difficult getting to the stores. Despite its humble bearing, the Howell and Howell building was in a very fashionable part of the city near Rodeo and where to go was a query that poses a much greater issue than how to get there. Again, I tried to put limits on myself, lest I let the money go to my head and go nuts. So, I decide to get only three things.
Two nice outfits for the office that I could alternate and one really, really nice dress for the wedding, and other such formal occasions, in case that should ever come up again. I never really held to single event outfits. It always seemed like such a waste. Which was why I never went to prom. That and I couldn’t actually find anyone to go with me. I made the best of it, though, listening to my favorite records, on my headphones, of course, and catching up on my studies.
I hurried back to the office, stashing my bags under the desk and got back to work, ignoring the hunger pains tightening in my belly, not having thought to actually eat during my lunch break. I soldiered on through until quitting time, more than ready to go and eat something when the clock ticked to the appointed time.
I was just retrieving my shopping bags when Ann happened by.
“Whoa,” she said, no doubt reading the store names printed in capital letters across the bags.
Embarrassment filled me. “I –”
“Oh no, I get it. A little extravagance never hurt anything,” Ann said, winking.
“No, I mean it’s not like that, I-”
I wasn’t sure why I was so upset, probably because I had just been described as extravagant by someone I was coming to respect.
“It’s okay, really. I noticed your hair yesterday. Looks like things are getting better with Liam around, right? I bet the money helps too. Come on, let’s see it.”
“See what?” I asked.
“The dress you got from Maxa Mara.”
Defeated, I put down the office clothes and pulled out the lavish red dress with the plunging neckline I had bought for the wedding, figuring it would to good things for my natural figure.
Ann wolf-whistled. “Wow, Liam really has brought you out of your shell!”
“I-it’s not like that. It is only for the wedding. The whole thing is fake.”
Ann raised her eyebrows. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself, then so be it, but it doesn’t look fake from where I’m standing.”
Her decree made, Ann kept going about whatever business she was on when she had come in, freeing me up to make my escape. Though when I did, it was with a smile.
Chapter Eleven
Liam
The sapphire ring Hayley had was fine but didn’t really look like an engagement ring, not as I understood them, and it was possible that people might be able to see through it. As insurance against this, I wanted to buy her another, more traditional ring, so it really looked like we were engaged.
One of the seemingly age-old traditions about rings was that they were supposed to cost three months’ salary. No matter how fancy, it seemed unlikely that most commercial sellers would carry anything worth $2 million.
Adjusting my ideas accordingly, I set a much lower goal price and end up with three strong contenders. In the end, I decide on one with a pure white gold setting and three different species of stone, a traditional white diamond, an emerald, and a ruby. It is just ostentatious enough to pass without crossing the line into being crass or tacky.
I debated about how to best give it to Hayley and then was struck by a sudden attack of awareness. This was all supposed to be fake. I didn’t want to give her false hope. She really was sweet, not to mention super sexy, and I really enjoyed her company, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to commit. Not like that anyway. Not even to her.
I had already bought the ring, and it didn’t make sense not to at least show it to her so she could decide if she wanted to wear it. Hayley was an equal partner in the plan and should also have a say. Much like with broaching the subject of the fake engagement, I decided that the direct approach was best.