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"Why does it bother you so much?" he questioned, genuinely curious.
"Because she touched you like you were hers. You’re mine," I admitted, my jealousy laid bare.
"I am yours, and this conversation is ridiculous. I’ll put the cuff links away," he conceded, seeming tired of the argument.
"Thank you," I said, feeling a sense of relief.
"Stop worrying about Lara. She means nothing to me," he reassured me.
"I hope not," I replied honestly, still feeling uneasy.
"You doubt me," he observed, his tone tinged with hurt.
"No. I’m just saying I hope she doesn’t mean anything to you," I clarified, wanting to reassure him.
"She’s a friend and that’s all, just like Ty is to you," he said, attempting to ease the tension.
"Point taken. Let’s move on," I agreed, eager to change the subject.
"So, as I was saying, I’d like to do some shopping," Oliver continued, shifting the conversation.
"I’d like to do some shopping too. Can I come with you?" I asked, hoping to spend time together.
"No. I have to get things I don’t want you to see," he replied, his expression serious.
"Then I’ll go by myself," I stated, determined.
"You’ll take Brenda. I can have Vlad escort me," he suggested, his tone firm.
"Fine. Works for me," I acquiesced, though a part of me still felt unsettled.
After three hours of shopping, my feet were killing me. I made the mistake of wearing a pair of boots that were new. I sat down on a pink padded bench in Boudoir Fashions. One of my gifts to Oliver would be a long beige satin nightgown with spaghetti straps. I was looking through their website a few weeks ago and he commented about this very nightgown. I had no idea he had a preference.
This was the last store I stopped in for the day. I had already missed lunch and my stomach growled in protest. All I wanted to do was go home, take off these boots and have a sandwich. I hadn’t heard from Oliver in a few hours, and I suspected he was just as tired as I was from fighting the crowds of Christmas shoppers.
“I think it’s time to go,” I told Brenda who was sitting next to me.
“Let me call Trevor,” she said. Trevor had the black sedan while Oliver took the limo with Vlad. At least I didn’t have to lug around packages like other shoppers. Each time I finished at one store; we dropped off the bags with Trevor.
Outside, Fifth Avenue was teeming with visitors looking at the Christmas windows. I fought through the crowd with Brenda behind me and was thankful when we got into the car.
“I love and hate Christmas in Manhattan,” I said.
Brenda smiled. “I know what you mean.”
“You never told me if you have any family.”
“I have two sisters. They live in New Jersey,” she said.
“Are you seeing them for the holiday?”
“I’ll be working. We all will.”
“We’re going to my parents for the holiday. I don’t think it’s necessary that you come.”
“Mr. Fox wants us on duty.”
I frowned, unzipping my boot and rubbing my right foot. I could feel a blister on my heel. I wondered why Oliver wanted the entire staff on duty. Oliver wasn’t home for me to ask when I got into the penthouse. I looked around for spots to hide things since I didn’t want him to discover anything.
