Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(49)

Audrey chewed on her lip, looking chagrined. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Except . . . the party tonight? You’re going to be there, and the other guests on the list? They all know about Danica, and someone’s sure to bring it up even if she doesn’t show up.”

Bront? gritted her teeth and repeated herself. “Who’s Danica?”

The assistant sighed. “I really shouldn’t tell you. My number one loyalty is to Logan, and this feels disloyal. It’s not my place to speculate—”

“Audrey,” Bront? interrupted. “Who is Danica, and why do I need to know about her?”

The other woman wrung her hands, clearly torn. After a moment, she said, “Danica is Logan’s fiancée. Ex-fiancée.”

Bront? stared at her. He was engaged? He’d never told her. “Exactly how ex of a fiancée is she?”

“They broke things off about two years ago. He hasn’t really dated anyone seriously since.”

Her stomach clenched uncomfortably. Logan had had a fiancée. Past tense. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. He’d almost been married. That was a little different from dating. “Why did they break up?”

Audrey shrugged. “I can’t speculate. That’s Logan’s business and not something he shared with me. But I do know it was ugly. They’re not speaking. That’s why you have to look stellar at this party tonight. Odds are that she’s going to be there, and you can’t give her any reason to pick you apart.”

She swallowed uncomfortably. “I’m a waitress. I’m dating a billionaire. You don’t think that’s reason enough for her to want to tear me apart?”

“It is. You just don’t want to give her any more.”

“‘The wise learn many things from their enemies.’”

Audrey paused to stare at her. “Huh?”

“Oh. Um. Aristophanes. Never mind.”

Audrey 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 Bront?’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,” Bront? 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, Audrey leading the way. She seemed to know exactly where she was going, and Bront? 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 Logan 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 Kansas City apartment.

Bront? put it back on the rack, hoping desperately that her fingerprints hadn’t smudged anything, and followed Audrey 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 Bront? and noticed her expression. “What’s wrong?”

Bront? reached for a nearby tag and winced. “I really don’t feel comfortable with the prices here.”

Audrey 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 Logan attends? They frequently make the society pages. The last thing you want is for someone to point out fabulously wealthy and handsome Logan Hawkings and his thrift store girlfriend. Understand?”

Bront? said nothing.

Audrey gave her another disappointed look. “Do I need to call Logan? Because if we don’t get you outfitted appropriately, I’m the one who’s going to be in trouble, Bront?. 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.” Audrey pulled a dress off the rack and held it up to Bront?’s chest. “Now, green or blue?”

***

Several hours later, Bront? returned to Logan’s apartment with sixteen shopping bags. Once Bront? had caved in, Audrey had been a determined shopper, and Bront? now possessed several pairs of designer shoes, matching jewelry, four designer handbags, two clutch purses, four cocktail dresses (for starters, Audrey had said), and multiple sets of everyday clothing. Since Audrey had been determined that she be fashionably beautiful from the inside out, Bront? now had bags of designer unmentionables from Agent Provocateur and La Perla.

The lingerie, she admitted, she rather liked, since she knew Logan would appreciate them. The rest, though—well, it bothered her. But since she didn’t want to get Audrey in trouble, or embarrass Logan, 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.