Page 42 of My Totally Unfair Deal

“Besides that.”

“They love talking about themselves,” I mutter.

He nods. “Good. How did they make their money?”

“I don’t think they did.” I shrug. “They just married well.”

“Exactly,” he says. “You noticed.”

“How the hell does that help me? Their husbands are?—”

I stop, the realization hitting mid-sentence.

“Their husbands are in the industry, aren’t they?”

He nods.

“Get an in with them and you’re halfway there.”

“But didn’t I already ruin my chances?”

“No.”

“They’re probably talking crap about me right now.”

“One of the waitresses spilled an entire tray of bellinis, so I doubt anyone even remembers the tag on your dress.”

I try not to smile.

“The next time they see you,” he adds, “you’ll be an entirely different person. And if all else fails, they’ll give you a second chance anyway.”

“What makes you so sure about that?”

He looks at me for a long beat.

“Because, with the exception of myself... everyone loves a good fairytale,” he says. “Especially a Cinderella story.”

NINETEEN

ELIZA

In the morning, Harrison is pacing the balcony, a warm coffee in hand.

“You can’t have me break up with someone and then six months later ask me to help you get her back,” he says. “That’s not how this works.”

I plop down at the breakfast bar and stuff a strawberry into my lips.

“I swear to God, if you show up to her place and beg for forgiveness, I will disown you on behalf of all mankind…” He slams down his coffee and rushes inside.

“Change of plans for today.” He pulls out his wallet and takes out a sleek black credit card. “Tell Harold to drop you off on Billionaire’s Row for shopping and come back with ten new suits and twenty new dresses so we can start planning out your wardrobe for the conference.”

“Is there a price range you want me to stay in per outfit?”

“No.” He looks amused as he pulls on his blazer. “But I’ll get an alert if you get close to three million.”

“I have to go handle a stupid client.” He rushes past me, but then he looks over his shoulder. “Wear whatever you want, but make sure you have on heels.”

I linger on the corner far longer than I should. Still feeling a slight sting from the brunch, I’m not ready to dive into this elite cesspool again, but if Harrison didn’t flinch in the slightest about me heading out alone, maybe I shouldn’t either.

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