Page 63 of Between the Lines

Eric looks between us a few times and then sighs. It’s a very elegant, annoyed little sound. “Mr. Hartman will leave his car here to be taken back to his house. Joe will transport both of you tonight. First to Rodeo Drive, where I’ve set up two appointments for Ms. Gray?—”

“RodeoDrive?”

Aiden crosses his arms over his chest. “Yes. We’re getting you a dress.”

“I have a dre?—”

“You said that last time,” he says.

A fierce flush climbs up my cheeks. The zipper. Yes, I had said that last time, and it hadn’t gotten me very far.

“Fine. We’ll go to get a dress.”

Aiden’s lip curves. “And shoes.”

“I didn’t know you were such a shopaholic,” I say. Then I realize Eric is here, and my words could come across as rude. Or ungrateful. There’s just something about Aiden that gets to me. “Sorry. Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”

Aiden’s smile just widens, like he knows I’m saying it for the audience. “You’re very welcome, Charlotte.”

Across the table, Eric looks back down at his notes. “Right. The salon next door has also been booked. I’ve scheduled a phone meeting for you at the same time. You wanted an update on your sister’s security.”

He nods. “Good.”

“Then the car will take you to the Dolby Theatre. I’ve made it clear that neither of you will walk the red carpet.”

The words are so outlandish that I almost want to laugh. Except, that’s his life, isn’t it? He goes to things like that. Because in his field, being seen is important.

I’ve spent so many years tryingnotto be noticed.

“We won’t stay long,” Aiden says. As if reading my thoughts. “We’ll see the movie, talk to some famous people, and then head out. I just need to make an appearance.”

“No, no, that sounds…” Amazing. Unreal. Something that happens to other people. “Fun.”

His lips quirk again. “Good.”

The stores on Rodeo Drive are legendary. So are their prices. Which is why I’ve never bought a single thing from any of the designers whose names grace the street and its surrounding neighborhood.

We’re in the middle of Beverly Hills, and the people who pass us are either drop-dead-gorgeous or tourists. There seems to be no in-between. No normies just out for a little walk. No regular person popping into a luxury boutique for an afternoon purchase.

The palms that line the street are huge and so straight that it all feels like a feat of engineering.

Joe finds a parking spot outside a store I recognize far too well. It’s a brand I’ve known all my life. A household name. It’s just not for normal people.

“Here?” I ask. My voice comes out high. “We’re goingthereto shop for a dress?”

Aiden shuts the car door behind me. “Yes. Or would you rather go somewhere else?”

As if it wasn’t good enough. Not up to my standards.

“No,” I say faintly. “This will… do.”

“Great,” he says.

“This is not something you’d normally do during your day.” But then I think about it, my step faltering. Eric had made thereservations awfully fast. “Or maybe it is. Did you… Do you often bring dates here before heading out?” He’d be able to impress half the country with these kinds of tactics.

He pulls the heavy glass door open for me. “Are you wondering about my dating habits again, Chaos?”

“No.”

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