Who Wants to Marry A Billionaire?(17)



“Let’s move on to appropriate conversation. Have you ever traveled Nina?”

She thought for a moment, “I went to a conference for philanthropic organizations in Chicago once, New York and Washington DC a couple of times, up the coast to Maine.”

Elsa rubbed her forehead, “I mean internationally Nina, have you ever been anywhere out of the country?” Nina shook her head and Elsa sighed audibly. “Do you know about fashion, designers, what’s trendy right now?” Again Nina shook her head. Elsa’s voice was sharp as she asked, “For heaven’s sake, Nina, what do you know?”

Nina could feel her throat tightening. She was a perfectly capable and intelligent person, why wasn’t that enough? “I’m well read, I know about music, movies, art, history, current events—I had a great liberal arts education.”

Elsa’s high heels made an annoying sound as she clicked away from Nina to stare out her window at Boston below. Her voice was softer though, more human as she spoke. “That’ll have to do then, but whatever you do, don’t mention politics or religion.”

The door looked inviting, Nina thought. She was ready to scamper away. Kennedy wanted her to come try on dresses for her dinner with Daniel’s parents, and somehow that seemed a lot more appealing that being made to feel completely inadequate. “Is there anything else you think I should know?” She tried to sound sincere as she said it, but she felt like a jackrabbit waiting to bolt.

“Confidence, Nina. You’ve got to project confidence. If you don’t believe in the role you’re playing, no one else will either.” Elsa sounded a little sad herself, Nina thought, and she was starting to believe there was a lot more to Elsa Woodruff than what her chilly demeanor implied. Without turning from the window Elsa suddenly shifted back to her usual haughty tone of voice, “Don’t screw this up Nina.”



Friday afternoon was a flurry of appointments as Kennedy dragged Nina around Back Bay Boston—a wash and trim for her hair, a manicure and pedicure, new lingerie. It wasn’t exactly clear to Nina why she needed new underwear when no one was ever going to see it, but Kennedy was insistent, saying it would boost Nina’s confidence. Nina had to admit that La Perla made her feel a lot prettier than her sensible Fruit of the Loom.

They went back to Nina’s place, and Rita joined them there. Kennedy laid out three different dresses, and the trio was eyeing them, trying to choose. Nina pointed to one,

“You can’t go wrong with black. That one is nice, feminine. The cut out in the back gives it a little interest, but it’s not crazy.”

Rita shook her head, “Bo-ring. Go with the tangerine bandage dress. Show off those curves baby. You’ve got the legs for it. And the color will look great with your dark hair and eyes.”

Nina looked a little horrified. “I’m going to dinner with his parents, not out clubbing. I’d feel like a total hoochie mama in that.”

Kennedy held up the third dress. It was a beautiful burgundy silk crepe, sleeveless with a simple scoop neckline that would keep her cleavage under wraps. It was short enough to be fashionable, but long enough she wouldn’t be tugging at the hem all night. There was a simple, silver metallic tie at the waist. “This is it—elegant, modest, unpretentious, fashionable without being trendy. And most importantly, you’ll look beautiful in it. This black clutch with a little bling, black heels, some big silver hoops in your ears and a silver cuff—that’s all you need.”

The dress was lovely, Nina thought. Okay, confidence! She smiled at Kennedy, “You’re right. Let me get into my La Perla.”

Daniel had offered to pick Nina up, but she didn’t really want him to see where she lived. Since he now owned every other aspect of her life, her home seemed like the one thing that could still be hers. And she’d taken the Porsche back to the dealer, despite Daniel’s pleas, as it proved to be more trouble than it was worth. If it was up to her, she would have just taken the “T,” but Daniel insisted on a driver/bodyguard, so her new muscle was coming to get her in a town car—classy yet it wouldn’t call undue attention either. She wondered, too, if he was also a spy, but she didn’t share that thought with anyone else.

Kennedy had just finished taming her hair, when there was a knock at the door. Rita went to answer it and when she opened the door, there was an enormous man standing in the corridor. He wore a stylish black suit, a white dress shirt buttoned to the collar, but no tie. Nina thought he looked a lot like the actor Daniel Craig, if Daniel Craig were 6’5” tall and weighed 225. He looked confused as he scanned the three women with serious eyes. “I am Boris, which of you is Nina?”

Nina wanted to burst out laughing. He had a heavy Russian accent and his name was actually Boris. She should have let Elsa rename her Natasha! She stuck up her hand, “That would be me.”


Boris made a gesture toward the door. “Please come. We do not want to be late.” Kennedy smoothed down a flyaway hair, and Rita handed Nina her clutch. “You look gorgeous sis. They will love you.” Nina felt her stomach roll with nerves, but concentrated on the beautiful lingerie she was wearing. She straightened up a bit, and lifted her chin. She could do this. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow and give you the blow by blow.”

As usual, the paparazzi had tracked Daniel to the restaurant, and there was a crowd of photographers lolling on the sidewalk. As they pulled up, Boris looked in the rearview mirror at Nina. “Do not get out of the car until I am at your door, even if the valet opens it. Understand?”

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