Page 23 of Billionaire Romantic
My stomach does a funny little flip.
We’ve already decided on my dress. It happens to be one of my favorites. The few times I’ve worn it I’ve always gotten compliments.
As I go into my room to put it on, Grace calls after me, “And make sure you wear those lacy white panties and matching wonder bra.” We happened to be downtown the other day and bought a few things at Victoria’s Secret.
“Yes, boss. But don’t get your hopes up.”
“Oh, my hopes are way,wayup, bestie.”
I laugh, but then it sinks in what she’s actually referring to and the thought causes those butterflies in my stomach to once again erupt into flight.Getting laid by Noah Steel.
Yeah, right.
Sure, Grace got totally swept away, but I’m not Grace. I’m hardly going to jump into bed with a total stranger on our first date.
When it comes to dating, I’m extremely cautious. Obviously, since I’m a twenty-three-year-old virgin who’s never been in a serious relationship in my life.
I’ve agreed to this date only because Grace talked me into it, but the chances of tonight leading to a second date are slim. I don’t care what the app said. How can an algorithm know anything about chemistry anyway? I’ll grin and bear the next few hours in the interest on trying to break out of my hermit-like existence, forget my many threatening-to-overflow troubles and enjoy a night out on the town for a change.
I dutifully follow Grace’s instructions, putting on the sexy undies and the tight-fitting dress, which hangs just past the top of my thighs. I carefully loop my gold pendant necklace over my head, so I don’t mess up my hair. I wear this pendant every day. At the end of it hangs a gold four-leaf clover charm that used to be my mother’s. I put on matching gold hoop earrings and pull on a pair of gold strappy heels.
I stare at myself in the mirror for a few seconds. The image could be my mother staring back at me. I look so much like her when she was my age, in the photo of her when she’d just arrived in New York, it’s almost eerie.
I’ve never really thought of myself as beautiful. Cute, maybe. My mother was stunning. But now that I take a moment to consider it, this new, glammed up vision of myself…Idolook beautiful. I don’t have that many people in my life who point that out to me very often. Grace, yes. But we’re busy people. My father, no. He was too distracted. And he avoided looking at me because I reminded him too much of her.
I wish you were here, Mama.
I wish we could have had more time together.
I wish I wasn’t so alone.
I wish I wasn’t staring down the barrel of bankruptcy, destitution and/or homelessness.
Anyway.
Tonight isn’t about my woes. It’s about my hot date with Noah Steel, who I’m very hopeful is neither a troll nor a psycho killer. We’ll have a drink or two. We’ll laugh about how we have nothing in common and the app was all wrong. We’ll say goodnight and I’ll pick up exactly where I left off.
I grab my pink Chanel bag—another of my mother’s splurges. It matched the pink suit that still hangs at the back of my closet. I don’t wear the suit but I use the bag on special occasions and I’m pretending this qualifies. I walk back to the kitchen.
Grace has put on a dress for her own date. It’s green silk and very slinky. Her jaw drops when I walk out of my room. “Holy shit, Luck. You lookgorgeous.”
“So do you, Gracie. That dress is hot,girl. It’s giving sultry mermaid.”
“Exactly what I was going for.” She hands me one of two glasses of wine she just poured. “That eyeshadow is just…” She mimes a chef’s kiss motion. “Look out, Noah Steel. Your life is about to change.”
“I still don’t know how I’m supposed to take him seriously with a name that sounds like it’s straight out of a spy thriller.”
“Or an erotic romance novel,” she smirks, clinking her glass against mine. “To getting laid tonight.”
“As if,” I laugh, shaking my head. I take a sip of wine, the liquid courage warming me from the inside out. But not too much. I need my wits.
My phone dings from inside my bag.
“That must your ride.”
“Either that or Noah Steel is canceling.” Grace finally allowed me to download the dating app. But it’s not a message from Noah Steel. It’s the Uber. “I better go.”
“Wait.” She takes my phone.
