Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“I think it’s cute.”
“What’s cute?” I ask. Surely, she’s not talking about this awful thing on my neck. Blending the foundation in as best I can, I try to disguise the ugly mark he’s left behind, but it’s hard when the mark is so conspicuous.
“That he’s trying to win you back.” She smiles wistfully.
I groan, hating myself for giving in to him—again.
“Mayve.” We both look toward the door at Kenzo, who’s casually leaning against it and holding two bags. I finish patching up my neck and hand the compact back to Emma.
“Thank you,” I say to Emma.
She smiles, giggles, and runs out, shutting the door behind her.
“Should I pull the shade down?” Kenzo asks.
“No, we won’t be doing any of that again.”
“It was fun,” he comments.
It was, and I hate that I agree with him.
He walks over and places both bags on my desk. Before he leaves, he says, “I’ll send you an email for my accounts. You work out our money.”
“Your money,” I yell after him.
I don’t hear him laugh, but I feel he’s smirking, thinking he’s somehow won.
He hasn’t.
I won’t let him.
I open the first bag and pull out a new pair of panties. Checking the tag, I snort and throw them away.
No way.
Who the hell pays over two hundred dollars for panties?
That can’t be right.
Can it?
I grab my phone, take a picture of the panties in the trash can, and then send it to him. Telling him it’s outrageous he would even think about spending that much.
He texts back straight away.
* * *
Kenzo: I broke them, so I’ll pay for them.
* * *
Me: You didn’t break them, you took them.
* * *
I kindly remind him, which is why I am currently not wearing any.
* * *
Kenzo: And I’ll take the following pairs too.
* * *
I huff and put my phone down.
Frustrating, delicious, man!
Opening the other bag, I find a new dress. I’m not sure I even want to look at that price tag, but then I see a box underneath it. And most woman would recognizes that gold box with the gorgeous white writing and a red bow tied across the corners. It contains heels—red bottom heels. I pull the dress out and quickly open the box. They’re professional—classic black heels that will go with most outfits.
I moan just a little…
Because they are perfect.
The dress is red to match the bottom of the heels.
I get up and shut my blinds so I can try on my new clothes. And as soon as I do, I feel like a whole new woman.
This dress is perfect.
It slides over my curves and is fitted.
It shows everything but in a flattering way.
I don’t even know how he was able to pick the correct size, but the way it clings to my body perfectly makes me want ten of them. I slide the heels on and instantly feel like a superwoman.
Can heels do that to a woman?
There’s a knock at the door, and Emma enters when I call for whoever it is to come in.
She stops in the doorway and eyes me up and down. “Wow! That’s some dress.” I twirl for her. “Where can I find myself a husband like that?” she whines, handing me today’s notes.
I should tell her she can find one in the back alley. Because let’s be real…you don’t go out of your way to meet someone like Kenzo.
He’s a killer.
Still for reasons I am yet to understand, I keep letting him put his hands all over me.
And I enjoy it.
More than I want to.
More than I should.
“Take a photo for me, would you?” I hand her my phone, and she snaps a picture. I open Instagram and create a new profile, hoping this time it doesn’t get deleted or cause him any harm, when really that was far from my fault. Who knew him watching my Instagram would get him stabbed? Could have been a kink to add to his list for all he knew.
Posting the image on the new account, I caption it with…
Yours truly, but not truly yours…
I get an immediate like on the post before a comment appears.
It says one word.
Mine!
I click over to the profile and see it’s a blank one, no picture to indicate who it is, but the user profile name is Mayvesstalker.
I can’t help but laugh before I close out of the app and get to work for the rest of the day.
Those two men are back at my door as I get home late that evening.
I press call on my phone as I get out of the Uber as I worked late today and didn’t want to catch the bus, figuring it was the safest option to go this way.
Maybe I was wrong.
“Mayve,” Kenzo answers.
“Two men are at my door,” I whisper.
At that moment, one of them turns and spots me. He steps to the railing and looks me dead in the eyes. Even with my bad eyesight, I know he is staring at me. I left my front light on last night and didn’t turn it off when I left this morning, something I’m now thankful for. With everything happening, I want to make sure I’m safe, and I thought it was a good idea. Because thanks to my poor vision, I wouldn’t have seen them without the lighting.