But Connor offered to pay for it. And to be fair, he did spill champagne on the last one.

“I’ll get it,” I blurt, handing it over.

“Going somewhere fancy?” she asks, scanning the barcode on the tag.

“Oh, no. I…” I trail off, realizing I have nowhere to wear this. Angelina all but forbade me from attending anything else with Connor for fear it would set off the gossip sites again.

And now that I think about it, this is like what Dad used to do with Mom—buy her pretty things to pacify her when she was mad they couldn’t go out together. His wife might see him, after all.

But in my case, Connor’s wife is his company. It’s the media. It’s the people that will think less of him if he crosses that line and appears to be having some kind of relationship with a subordinate.

Even though it was me that kept pushing for more.

No, no. This isn’t the same as my parents. He’s not bribing me. Distracting me with fancy things because he can’t truly be with me. He’s replacing something he damaged. He said he’d do that before we even got together.

“I just wanted a pretty dress,” I tell the woman, not knowing what else to say.

“Well, I hope you find somewhere special to wear it.” She smiles at me, but I can’t quite return it, my mood soured now after remembering my parents.

I ride back to the office and carefully stow the garment bag behind my desk, looking up at Connor as he exits his office to join me.

“That it?” He motions to the bag.

“Mmm-hmm.” I turn on my computer and settle in, bringing up my email.

“What else did you get?”

I busy myself, starting a reply to Angelina about Connor’s availability for a press conference in a few weeks. “Nothing.”

“I offered you a new wardrobe.”

I pause in my typing, staring down at the keyboard as I formulate a response. “I just didn’t feel comfortable taking more.”

“Money’s not an issue. You can use whatever.”

“I appreciate it. But, to be honest, it reminded me of my parents a bit. And I don’t want to be like my mom. Becoming dependent on money from a wealthier guy.” It’s already bad enough I still rely so heavily on my dad.

He’s silent for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. “Okay. I only meant to help, not make you uncomfortable. I don’t want this to be an issue between us.”

The knot of tension in the center of my chest loosens. “I don’t either.”

He rubs at his jaw thoughtfully. “We had talked last week about you submitting a business plan to me. I’d potentially be an investor in your company. Is that something you’re still interested in? Now that things have… changed?”

I sigh, bracing my elbows on the desk as I massage my temples, the headache returned. “I don’t know. It’s definitely a conflict of interest.”

“It’s not a problem for me. If you need time to think about it, though, that’s fine.”

I nod, finally looking up at him, his steady gaze soothing me. It’d be crazy to deny myself the chance at an actual business out of some notion of high-minded principles. But like I said, I don’t want to be beholden to him. I don’t want money to tie us together so that I can’t escape, the way my mom has done.

And how can I even take his money when I’ve been deceiving him from the start? I need to confess.

No, I can’t do that. He’ll hate me if he finds out.

I hold back my groan, cutting off the mental war going on in my head. “Thank you for the dress. I really do love it.”

“You’re welcome. Are we—” He clears his throat, lowering his voice. “Are we still on for tonight?”

I smile at him, trying to convey how amazing he is. How much I value his patience, his thoughtfulness, his willingness to put up with my ridiculousness. “I’ll be wearing red.”