Page 280 of The Billionaires

Great. Now, as I reply, I’ll feel like I’m doing so for the money.

Regardless, I hit reply to his last message:

Can we pretend I never asked anything?

He responds immediately:

Asked what?

With a sigh, I text him that I’ll see him at home.

Miss Miller would notify the gentleman that she’s ready to accept a properly worded apology.

Then again, based on my talk with Mom, I’m not sure if I shouldn’t be the one to apologize.

Not that that would ever happen.

I’d rather lose out on all those millions.

A new text arrives, and it’s from Mom—though, given what she says, I wish the so-called advice it contains were coming from someone else. Anyone else, except possibly Mary.

Dress slutty around the house, is Mom’s pearl of mature wisdom. It will make him regret his choice—and possibly change his mind.

Do other people’s moms ever give such advice? Somehow, I doubt it. Maybe not even friends their own age.

The biggest problem with Mom’s idea is that Adrian might not care if I pranced around his place completely naked. Clearly, I’m a sexless prop to him, something he can present at court. Something that screams “I’m so not into sleeping around that I married an unfuckable wife… just look at her.”

Still. It’s not like I have anything to lose. In fact, he wanted to see my Victorian cosplay. It wouldn’t take that much effort to turn a lady’s outfit into that of a courtesan.

Yeah. It will be a bit like Halloween, when my fellow females make all sorts of costumes sexy, from nurses to skunks.

My mood lifts as I keep thinking in this direction. When not in cosplay, I could wear those shorts that I deemed too small and tight a few years back—which is when my rearend decided to have a growth spurt. I’ve also got plenty of cute sports bras and hot yoga pants that I could use.

Also, I could go shopping. After all, I’ve got a job now, and I’m about to become a millionaire.

Thus decided, I take an Uber to Forever 21 and shop for sexy outfits. I even get some lacy lingerie, in case I feel bold enough to “accidentally” bump into Adrian while wearing it to, say, the kitchen at night.

This may be an uncharitable thought, but Miss Miller wouldn’t consider some of these so-called undergarments befitting a woman of even the loosest morals.

The good news is that I feel almost happy when I’m done with the spree. Is this why women find this activity so fun? Until now, I only found shopping fun when it took place at bookstores.

Loaded with bags, I return to Adrian’s place, where Leo meets me and sniffs all my bags as though whatever I bought were obviously for him. As I head to my room to put the stuff down, Leo keeps sniffing me.

Oh, well. I guess I’m changing into my slutty Victorian lady outfit in front of the dog.

It takes a while, yet Leo watches me like I’m a TV show he’s binging.

“Where’s your dad?” I ask him when my evil outfit is complete.

No reaction.

“Adrian,” I say to the dog. “Is he home?”

At the sound of his human’s name, Leo’s ears become animated. He trots out of my room, and I follow him to the gym.

“Hey,” I say as I step inside… and then I gape at the view on display, my mouth watering—along with other, more unmentionable places.

Wearing only shorts, Adrian is doing pull-ups.

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