Page 31 of Strange Seduction
I ended the call with a shaky smile, then glanced back at the empty bed. My stomach filled with dread as I hoped this wouldn’t be the norm for this trip. Still, with a deep breath, I collected my thoughts before hitting the shower.
Retail therapy wasn’t the solution to what I was feeling, but it sure as hell is a perfect distraction.
An hour later, I slid into the back seat of the black car the hotel had arranged. I crossed my legs, smoothed the hem of my midi dress over my thighs, and gave the driver a small smile.
“Where to, Miss?” he asked in Italian-accented English.
I gave him the name of the most expensive shopping district I could find on Google Maps. If Theo wanted me to cheer myself up, I was going to do it inYSL.
Charge it to the game,I thought, slipping on my sunglasses.
Ladies, allow me to show you how to properly use your multi-million-dollar boyfriend’s credit card in just five simple stops:
Stop one: Valentino.
The first dress I picked was white silk with a daring low back and a slit that almost showed my panties. The salesgirl kept calling meprincipessaand brought me champagne.
I liked her.
“Should I wrap this one?” she asked, eyes hopeful for the commission she’d get for this sale.
I nodded. “Wrap it. And the red one in the window.”
The price tags didn’t make me flinch. My boyfriend told me to cheer up.
And what’s more healing than fine Italian silk against skin?
€20,400.
Stop two: Cartier.
The minute I walked in, they offered espresso and asked if I was shopping for a special occasion.
I just smiled and nodded. I walked out with a gold bracelet encrusted with diamonds that was definitely worth celebrating.
€18,250.
Stop Three: Jimmy Choo.
Because no amount of “self-care” was complete without shoes.
The clerk practically melted when I pointed out a pair of white satin stilettos in the display case—minimalist, sharp, and absolutely uncomfortable. I added a classic pair of black pumps for good measure and, just because I could, an emerald-green pair I knew would match a new purse I hadn’t bought yet.
€27,600.
Stop four: Bottega Veneta.
A new purse.
Not because I needed one.
But because I caught my reflection in the boutique mirror on the way to Jimmy Choo, and I wanted to see something new hanging off my arm.
The bag was fire. It matched the shoes I bought perfectly—a deep emerald with gold hardware. Plus, the clerk recommended a matching wallet.
How could I refuse?
€5,600.
