Redeemed (Dirty Air #4)(61)


I sneak a peek at the price tag and nearly have a stroke. This dress is worth more than my rent for a month.

“Do you not like it?” Maya’s smile drops.

Why does she have to be this wonderful and kind? Can’t she have a flaw that would make it easier to run out the door and never look back?

I stutter. “Uhm...no. It looks gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, but…”

“Is it the price? Don’t worry about it. Santiago slipped me his Amex before we left the hotel.”

“He did what?” The first lines of Pretty Woman blast in my head as my stomach twists into a tight knot.

“He said to pick out the prettiest dress for you or else he won’t attend the gala tonight. I took it as a challenge.”

“That’s so...sweet,” I choke out.

“I don’t think I’ve seen my son this enamored by someone before.” Santiago’s mom winks at me. Her brown eyes have a lightness to them I can’t ignore.

Either we’re amazing at faking this relationship or everyone wants to desperately believe Santiago is genuinely happy.

“Oh.” That’s all I can muster up. The guy offered to pay for my dress for God’s sake and all I can say is oh. I’m slipping into extremely dangerous territory around him. It’s the kind of treacherous waters a girl can drown in if she’s not careful.

A dress on the mannequin at the front of the store window catches my eye. The black material shines under the spotlights, making thousands of crystals appear like they’re moving. Long sleeves balance the severity of the open back. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a piece of clothing as stunning as that. It’s as if the designer captured an illusion of moonlight reflecting off the glittering ocean at midnight.

“Oh, just look at your eyes light up!” Maya calls out to the employee who helps us. “We need that dress, please.”

“What? I like the one you picked out!” I stumble over my words.

“But you love that one.” Maya waggles her brows.

Based on the how dress is part of the storefront display, it must cost way more than the one I hold in my shaky hand. It makes me sick to purchase something like that on someone else’s dime. I don’t even see a price tag on it which only means one thing.

“Don’t bother saying no. When my daughter sets her mind on something, come hell or high water, she is getting her way,” Santiago’s mom offers.

Maya plucks the dress she chose from my hands. She gently pushes me into a dressing room and the store attendant passes me the black dress.

I can’t walk out of the store with this. How could I live with myself when I was barely making enough to cover my rent last month?

I pull out my phone and text Santiago.

Me: Please tell me you didn’t tell your sister that you wouldn’t go to the gala if she didn’t buy me a pretty dress.





Santiago: Can I plead the fifth?





Me: Seeing as you’re not American and you don’t follow the Constitution, the answer is no!





Me: Seriously. I can’t let you pay for something this expensive. Tell your sister to take me to a Zara or something a little more on par with my budget.





Santiago: But I’m scared of her. Why don’t you tell her since you’re the one opposing this in the first place?





Me: You’re afraid of your sister? I wish I could choke you through the phone.





Santiago: Is that your kink? You really are quite the surprise.





I snort.

Santiago: And yes I’m afraid of my sister. She might be small but she’s scrappy. I wouldn’t mess with her. The one time I tried, she shaved my head in the middle of the night as payback.





Me: You’re the most infuriating person I’ve ever met.





Santiago: Replace infuriating with kindest and you have yourself a compliment. Try it with me. Things like this take practice.





I huff. My phone beeps, interrupting my typing fingers.

Santiago: You can always pay me back if it really kills you to accept a gift.





The only way I could afford a dress like this is if I worked until the day gray hairs started sprouting from my head.

Santiago: But I’d rather you didn’t. That takes away from the fun of it. Just let someone else take care of you for once.





Let someone else take care of you for once. Something about his simple words makes my chest tighten. I can’t exactly reject him when he is this honest with me.

Me: Thank you.





I can’t think up anything else, and I doubt he expects me to. His words alone already incapacitated my brain for the morning.

“Is everything okay in there?” Santiago’s mom calls out.

“Just perfect!” I offer in the nicest voice I can fake.

I remove my clothes and put on the new dress and matching shoes. The material clings to my body, highlighting curves I didn’t know I possessed. My feet turn on their own, and the material swirls around me. Crystals reflect a spectrum of colors off the walls.

“Whoa.” I snap a picture of myself and send it to Brooke.

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