Page 61 of Jilted

“Good.” He kissed my forehead. “Get some sleep. I’ll be back in the morning to collect you.”

The elevator doors slid open, so I stepped inside and turned around.

Wilder smiled. “I’m happy you’re here, Cupcake.”

My insides grew warm. “I am, too.”

This is definitely better than the three-star I had booked.

The lotion I pumped out of one of the pretty glass canisters in the bathroom smelled like fresh lavender as I rubbed it into my arms. This was by far the nicest hotel I’d ever stayed in. My suite was huge—with a separate living room, an airy bedroom, and a marble bathroom with a soaking tub and walk-in shower that could easily hold six people. It was now a few minutes before ten on Wednesday morning, and I still had the plush hotel robe wrapped around me. I didn’t want to put my dirty clothes from yesterday back on after getting out of the shower. Maybe I should, though, rather than answering the door for Wilder like this?

I was still nibbling on my lip, debating a quick change, when there was a knock.Welp, guess that decision is made for me. I tugged the belt of my robe tight, did a check in the mirror, and reached for the door handle. To my surprise, it wasn’t Wilder standing on the other side of the door. It was a woman dressed to the nines, her hands filled with shopping bags.

The woman smiled. “Good morning. You must be Sloane?”

“Yes?”

“I’m Emily Bloom. Mr. Hayes’s personal shopper.”

“His what?”

She lifted her arms. “I think you’re going to love what he picked out.”

“He? I’m sorry. I’m not following?”

She leaned back and checked the room number on the side of the door. “This is four ten. You are Sloane Carrick, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

She had an amused smile on her face. “I guess Wilder didn’t tell you I was coming this morning?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Then let me back up. I’m a personal shopper and stylist. I pick out clothes for my clients, most of whom are too busy to go shopping or don’t want the hassle of putting together their wardrobe. Wilder is one of my clients. He called me early this morning with an SOS. He said someone special was visiting and the airline had lost her luggage. So we were at the stores when they opened this morning and together we picked out a bunch of great outfits.”

“We?” I remained mired in confusion. “Wilder went with you?”

She smiled. “He did indeed. Normally I can’t even get that man to stop in at the store to have the tailor take a suit in. I have to send the tailor to him. So you must be very special.”

My cell phone rang from somewhere inside the room. I looked over my shoulder and back to the woman, still confused about what was going on, even though she’d just explained it to me.

“Is it okay if we come in?” she asked.

“We?” I poked my head out into the hall. Sure enough, another woman stood behind her carrying even more bags—and there was also a full rolling rack of dresses. “Oh my gosh. I think Wilder has lost his mind.”Though… I do need something to wear today. “But yes, come in.”

My phone went to voicemail before I could grab it, but Wilder’s name was on the screen. I pressed the button to call him back. “Are you insane?”

I heard the smile in his voice when he answered. “I guess Emily got to you before me?”

“Yes, Emily and half the contents of a boutique have arrived.”

“I called the airline this morning. They still don’t have your luggage.”

“Well, that stinks, but you didn’t need to go shopping for me.”

“I actually had fun. Especially picking out your underwear and bra. What size do you wear anyway? I guessed a thirty-four C.”

That wasexactlymy size. Though I was torn between beingimpressed and feeling unsettled that he could guess a woman’s bra size. The latter, I assumed, was because he’d felt all shapes and sizes.

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