THE PROPOSAL

***
The next morning, she woke up to see Drake off for the day. He kissed her at the door for several minutes, then sighed. “I have meetings all day, but I’ll be back in time to pick you up tonight.”
“Gotcha. Is there a bookstore nearby I can hit up once I find some pants?”
Drake chuckled. “You have all of New York at your disposal, and you want a bookstore?”
“Pretty much.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “But it comes second to pants.”
He leaned in and kissed her again. “Tell you what. I’ll send my assistant over in about an hour with some clothes for you. She can escort you around town.”
She wasn’t sure that she needed a chaperone, but it might be wise until she got her feet under her. “All right.” She wrapped her leg around his and clung to him in a way that left nothing to the imagination. “You’re going to think about me today, right?”
Drake groaned, his hands moving to cup her naked ass under his shirt. “I couldn’t stop if I tried.”
“A wise man once said, ‘We strive after the forbidden.’”
“More Plato?”
She rolled her eyes. “Everyone’s Plato to you. That was Ovid.”
“If you find a bookstore, buy me some Plato. I hear he’s interesting.” Drake leaned in and kissed her one more time, then reluctantly pulled away. “I’ll call when I’m on my way home.”
That felt . . . domestic. But she nodded, a hint of a smile on her face as she closed the door behind him. They were clicking so well it was almost scary. Scary, but enjoyable. Was it too good to be true? She supposed she’d see when she met his friends.
Just the thought of it made her stomach knot up. She was a nobody . He was a billionaire. They were going to think she was after his money, when the truth was his money just made her downright uncomfortable. Money was nice, but it wasn’t the reason to have a relationship.
Of course, she doubted anyone would believe her if she said that.Sarah took a quick shower and had just combed her hair into a damp ponytail when the doorbell rang. She bounded to the door, pulling on her dirty jeans. “Coming.”
When she opened the door, a woman about her age stood on the other side holding a Saks Fifth Avenue bag. She was about the same height as Sarah but her figure was radically different. Where Sarah was lean everywhere except her behind, the woman in the doorway seemed to be all softness and curves bundled up into a stuffy brown suit and tight bun. Her makeup was minimal, her skin pale, and she wore a pair of oversized sunglasses that she removed as Sarah opened the door.
She gave Sarah a friendly, efficient smile and stepped inside. “You must be Sarah Rosewood.” She held out her hand. “My name is Bernice Cyph, and I’m Drake ’s assistant. He asked me to come by and see if I could help out today.”
Sarah shook her hand enthusiastically. “Hi there. Yes. I’m Drake’s girlfriend.”
The look on Bernice’s face remained professional. Her smile could have been painted on. “Well, Drake told me to come by with some clothes so you could go shopping today. It seems he didn’t give you time to pack?”
“That’s right.” Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, feeling a little awkward. “Sorry to be such trouble.”
She gave Sarah an odd look. “Trouble? Drake once asked me to drive to Pennsylvania to pick up floor plans because he didn’t like the way they looked faxed. Taking someone shopping? That is not trouble in the slightest.”
Sarah relaxed a little at that, even as Bernice moved past her and began to unpack the contents of the bag she’d brought. “Does Drake often make you run strange errands?”
“I don’t know if they’re strange,” Bernice said. “But he does sometimes ask me to run favors for him. It’s my job as his assistant, of course. He has a secretary for other business needs. Now, Drake told me that he had no idea what your size was, so I bought a sweater and some pants in every size. We can just return the ones that don’t fit. I also brought some panties and bras in some common sizes. If you don’t have shoes, I can go back out and get some.”
“This is fine,” Sarah said, reaching out to touch one of the sweaters. It was plain black, cashmere, and extremely soft. “This is nicer than what I normally wear, actually. You could have brought me a T-shirt and jeans.”
“Not if I wanted to keep my job,” Bernice said cheerfully. “I know Drake , and if he thought I was cheaping out on you, he’d have my head.”
He’d never seemed to mind what Sarah had worn before, though. She picked up the sweater in the right size and grabbed the closest slacks and panties. “These’ll work.”
“Super. You go change and I’ll pack everything else up, and then we can get started. We’ve got a lot of shopping ahead of us.”
She gave Bernice a dismayed look. “We do?”
“Drake ’s instructions are, and I quote,” she said, pulling out her phone and reading from the screen, “‘Make sure that she gets a few weeks’ worth of clothing, along with some evening wear. You know my events calendar.’” She looked up from the screen. “I do, and it’s a doozy.” She looked back down again and continued to read. “‘Also, take her to the best bookstore in Manhattan. My library needs restocking.’” She looked up at Bernice in surprise. “He has a library?”
“Not really,” Bernice admitted, her lips twitching with her efforts not to smile like a lovesick idiot. “And I really don’t need that many clothes. Just a change or two.”
Bernice shook her head and waved the phone. “I have my orders, and I’m afraid they trump yours.”
Sarah didn’t disagree. She just took the clothes and went to change. She emerged a few minutes later, fully dressed. The clothing was elegant and yet casual. The price tags had been removed, so she didn’t know what they’d cost, but she had horrible visions of exactly how much everything had set Bernice back. “Thanks for the clothes. How much do I owe you?”
Bernice gave her a look. “Very funny.”
“I can write you a check.”
The other woman stared at her. “Are you or are you not aware that you’re dating a billionaire? He has a little cash to throw around. This is coming from his wallet, not mine.”
Sarah flushed. “Just because he has the cash doesn’t mean that I want him to spend ridiculous amounts on me. I’m a grown woman. I can buy my own clothes.”
Bernice arched a brow at her. After a moment, she said, “Well, that’s something I don’t hear very often from women in Drake ’s circles. Huh.” She shook her head, as if not quite believing her ears. “Anyhow. Today, the shopping is on Drake . You can argue with him when he gets home. As long as you’re with me, though, his card is the one we’re using.”
Fair enough. She’d go light on the shopping today to please Bernice and go back later for more stuff if she needed it. “Sounds good. Where are we heading?”
“Fifth Avenue and Madison Avenue,” Bernice said promptly. “That’s where the best shopping is. Do you have a preference?”
“Someplace with reasonable, comfortable clothing?”
Bernice stared at her for a minute. “Oh, honey. No. We’ll start with your dress for the party tonight. I’m thinking Bergdorf’s or Saks. And shoes. We’ll definitely need some shoes. This could get a little pricey, so I just want you to close your eyes and remember who’s buying, okay?”
Sarah crossed her arms. “Bernice , this makes me . . . really uncomfortable. I don’t know that I can spend someone else’s money like this.”
“I know you can’t,” she said with a reassuring pat. “That’s why I’m in charge. And may I just say that this is a refreshing change? Usually I have to pry his girlfriends away from the Centurion card.”
“I thought he hadn’t dated much in the past year?”
“He hasn’t. I’ve been with him for several.” Bernice gave her another tight, efficient smile. “Shall we go?”
They headed out, Bernice chattering a mile a minute as they walked the few blocks to the shopping district. Sarah tried to pay attention to Bernice ’s nonstop stream of conversation, but she was too busy soaking in the atmosphere of New York. Skyscrapers rose all around her, and the streets were crawling with pedestrians, the curb lined with cars. Awnings hung over the front of apartment buildings, and nearby someone pushed a street cart. Taxis were everywhere.
She’d never seen anything like it. It was crazy . . . and vibrant. The city was alive with people and business, and it was like being in the center of a very slick, industrious anthill. She could see why so many people loved living there. Standing on the street, surrounding by endless tall buildings, it truly did feel like the center of the universe.
Bernice continued to chatter as they walked, barely paying attention to other pedestrians or traffic. She’d been working for Drake for three and a half years, Bernice told her. He was a very fair boss, though he could be demanding of her time. And even though she’d been asked to buy presents for occasional girlfriends or to manage his calendar for his personal life, she confessed that she did not shop for many women, which made Sarah feel better.
Bernice pointed to a store they were passing. “We can start here. They have some really nice selections. Sophisticated and moneyed. Nothing that screams streetwalker.” The assistant looked at Sarah’s clothes, and then added, “Not that I think you would have trouble with that, but you never know. Some women think that if they’re spending a lot, the clothes should have a lot of flash. It’s just the opposite, really.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sarah murmured.
The store was like something out of a movie, complete with marble floors and soft music piped in. They wandered through some of the racks, Bernice leading the way. She seemed to know exactly where she was going, and Sarah was content to let her take charge.
As they walked, a pretty blouse with a delicate ruffle along the neckline caught her eye. All right. If she was going to be staying with Drake for a few weeks—maybe more, maybe less—she needed clothing that wouldn’t embarrass him. She paused and examined it, admiring the pale silky fabric, then flipped over the tag. Her breath seized in her lungs.
That blouse cost more than two months’ rent of her apartment.
Sarah put it back on the rack, hoping desperately that her fingerprints hadn’t smudged anything, and followed Bernice with wide eyes.
The assistant began to pick through a rack of dresses. “You have such lovely dark hair and pale skin that I think you could probably look great in a nice jewel tone. Maybe blue? Green? Do you have a preference?” She glanced up at Sarah and noticed her expression. “What’s wrong?”
Sarah reached for a nearby tag and winced. “I really don’t feel comfortable with the prices here.”
Bernice gave her an exasperated look. “Are you still going on about this?” She shook her head and turned back to the rack of clothing, flipping through dresses. “You are dating a billionaire. Wearing T-shirts and jeans is fine for at home, if that’s your thing. But if you go out? People are going to look at what he’s wearing, and they’re going to look at what you’re wearing. You have to convey an image. The functions that Drake attends? They frequently make the society pages. The last thing you want is for someone to point out fabulously wealthy and handsome Drake Holt and his thrift store girlfriend. Understand?”
Sarah said nothing.
Bernice gave her another disappointed look. “Do I need to call Drake ? Because if we don’t get you outfitted appropriately, I’m the one who’s going to be in trouble,Sarah. As his assistant, it’s my job to make him look good. And if you look good, he looks good. And I really like my job and would hate to lose it.”
“That is totally emotional blackmail.”
“Yes, it is.” Bernice pulled a dress off the rack and held it up to Sarah’s chest. “Now, green or blue?”
***
Several hours later, Sarah returned to Drake ’s apartment with sixteen shopping bags. Once Sarah had caved in, Bernice had been a determined shopper, and Sarah now possessed several pairs of designer shoes, matching jewelry, four designer handbags, two clutch purses, four cocktail dresses (for starters, Bernice had said), and multiple sets of everyday clothing. Since Bernice had been determined that she be fashionably beautiful from the inside out, Sarah now had bags of designer unmentionables from Agent Provocateur and La Perla.
The lingerie, she admitted, she rather liked, since she knew Drake would appreciate them. The rest, though—well, it bothered her. But since she didn’t want to get Bernice in trouble, or embarrass Drake , she’d caved in to the pressure and bought it. She’d stopped looking at price tags since that just seemed to slow everything down, and she felt sick at the amount they’d spent on clothes that day.
All she kept thinking about was that it could have paid her rent for a year. Fed a family of four for a year. Purchased a small car or two. Instead, it was just sweaters and skirts and matching earrings. For the amount of money they’d spent on her shoes, they should have been gold-plated and given her a foot massage as she put them on.
She and Drake hadn’t discussed closets, and she didn’t want to be presumptuous, so she filled a closet in one of the spare rooms. Once her things were put away, she took a long, luxuriant bath, pulled her hair into what she hoped was an elegant upsweep, and began to apply her makeup.
A half hour later, she was ready, and anxious. Sarah examined her appearance in the mirror. The designer dress she’d chosen for that night was a deep wine shade. It was made of gathered jersey that clung to her curves and outlined her figure in an elegant drape. The back was a low, daring cowl that swooped all the way to the base of her spine and made her feel just a bit scandalous. She’d paired it with dangling silver earrings and nude Manolo Blahniks (since Bernice had insisted) and examined the final picture.
Not bad. She didn’t look a thing like herself, but she didn’t look bad.
Sarah slipped off her shoes and sat on the edge of one of the couches in the living room, waiting anxiously for Drake to return. When watching the door didn’t work, she moved to the window and watched the skyline slowly light up. She was fascinated by the city. It was more interesting viewing than TV.
The sun was setting behind the sea of buildings when she heard a click at the front door. She turned just as Drake entered, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
He stopped at the sight of her, his gaze sweeping up and down over her body. A grin crossed his face. “You look gorgeous, Sarah.”
She smiled at him. “I look expensive, you mean.”
“You do, but it’s perfect for the party tonight.” A slow smile curved his mouth, and his gaze again roamed over her body approvingly. “You’re perfect.”
Sarah flushed under his scrutiny, secretly pleased. Bernice had been right after all. She made a mental note to hint that his assistant needed a raise. “I didn’t know you were going to work so late,” she began, feeling awkward as he continued to admire her.
He grimaced and held the flowers out to her. “Note my apology. I had a few meetings that ran late. If I’d have known you were so incredibly gorgeous while waiting for me, though . . .” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her neck, his hand sliding down her naked back. “I like this part.”
She took the flowers and slunk out of his grasp. “What time does the party start?”
“About a half hour ago.”
Her eyes widened, and she gave him an anxious look. “So we’re late? Please tell me this isn’t a dinner party.”
He shook his head, moving to the bedroom. “Just a mixer,” he called back to her. “Some close friends and business associates. Nothing to worry about.”
It didn’t exactly sound like nothing to worry about. The whole “business associates” part was exactly what she was worried about.
His eyes gleamed as he gazed down at her. “I think your dress needs something.”
“Does it?” She glanced down at the material, then twisted to see the back—or lack of back—on her gown. “I thought I looked pretty good, myself.”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a long, blue velvet box, holding it out to her. “See if you like this.”
Sarah’s tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth. “Oh, Drake . You shouldn’t have. Really. Whatever you spent, it’s too much.”
“Look at it,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “I tried to find one like in the gift shop. Now that you know that I have too much money, I can give you these things.”
She gave him a skeptical look but opened the box. And gasped.
The necklace in the box was way more expensive than the one at the hotel gift shop. Where that one had been a delicate chain of diamonds, this one was a thick wreath of dripping jewels. The matching earrings were encrusted. It looked as if it had cost more than her college education.
It was gorgeous. And it made her incredibly uncomfortable.
She snapped the box shut and tried to hand it back to him. “I can’t take this, Drake .”
“I want you to wear it, Sarah .You’ll look beautiful in it.”
“It’s too much. I’m already wearing stuff that’s way more expensive than it should be. You’re spending too much money, Drake . I don’t like it.”
Ignoring her protests, he flipped the box open again and pulled the necklace out. “Turn around.”
She made a frustrated noise in her throat, but it died with Drake ’s smile of pride and the gorgeous sparkle of the necklace. “Do you always get your way?”
“Always,” he told her with a pleased expression. “Turn around.”
She did, and put a hand to the necklace as he clasped it around her neck. The it was heavy, decadent. “Thank you, I think.”
“You’re welcome.” He leaned close and nibbled at her ear. “I think.”