"Please tell me you've got the Ferrari and not the bike. I don't think I could handle another ride on that thing. Not this morning."
"If you throw up on the bike at least you won’t ruin the upholstery."
"I'm not going to throw up! I feel perfectly fine." Liar.
"Good. Because we've got a lot of shopping to do and it's already one o'clock."
First stop was Rodeo Drive. Annie cringed at the prices in the designer shops but Zack didn't even blink. He made her try on a pair of gorgeous Prada slides with a moderate heel and straps criss-crossing over the toes. They were the sort of shoes she'd never dream of purchasing—neither practical nor within her price range. Not even close. Slipping them on, she felt decadent, obscene and totally guilty. She loved them.
"I can't afford these," she told Zack emphatically, taking them off. "You could feed a starving family for a year at that price."
"You're not supposed to have a social conscience," he said from the corner where he'd been quietly watching her. He looked so imperious, leaning against the wall with his arms and legs crossed. A small smile played at the edge of his mouth. "You're too cool for that remember?"
She rolled her eyes. "Well, I could feed myself for a year at that price, then. How's that?"
"Better. But you're not getting out of it that easy. Those shoes are all the rage this year."
She frowned. How did he know that? Did the man of her dreams have a fetish for female shoes? The sound of her crashing obsession filled her ears.
He uncrossed his arms and frowned back at her. Then his face cleared and he smiled that knowing, cheeky smile. He nodded towards the male shop assistant. "So he told me."
"Well, whether they're all the rage or not, I still can't afford them."
"You don't have to."
Her eyes narrowed and she stood, hands on hips, glaring at him. "You are not buying me anything."
He ambled over to her, standing so close she could smell the subtle woodsy fragrance of his aftershave. It was delicious and she wanted to bury her nose in his neck.
"Why not?" he asked
"Because I've got principles." Damn those things. "I don't let men buy me anything until I've slept with them at least twice." She said it only half in jest.
He arched an eyebrow. "That sounds like a challenge.”
She glared at him.
"Fine," he said still smiling. "Since Bob's paying for them, it doesn't matter anyway."
"Bob." She nodded, breathing out slowly. Bob could probably claim it as a tax deduction. Although she'd like to see his accountant's face when he presented him bills for women's clothing.
"We'll take them," Zack said to the assistant as he skittered past. "And a pair in red."
"Red? That's a little extravagant isn't it?" Annie said.
He shrugged. "Red shoes look sexy on a woman. I think you should have a pair."
Annie frowned but said nothing as she slipped on her own pair of scuffed black mules.
The assistant looked down his long nose at her and sniffed. "Perhaps you would like to wear your new pair and I could pack those away for you. Or burn them."
She was about to shake her head when Zack answered "Yes." She agreed, but only because the new shoes looked really cute.
Outside, the heat sucked away their breath. No one in their right mind would go traipsing up and down a shopping strip on such a hot day. Annie watched all the mini-skirted girls giggling and pointing at Zack as they passed and decided none of them counted—they definitely weren't in their right minds.
"Zack!" cried a passing woman. She stopped and placed a hand on his arm. Her fingernails had small palm trees painted on them and she wore at least one ring on every finger. She tipped her blonde head and accepted his kiss on her cheek with grace. "Darling, what are you doing here?"
"Shopping."
"I can see that, Darling, but what's come over you? I thought you hated shopping."
"I do. But I've made an exception today." He held up the bag with Annie's new black pair of shoes and her boring old ones. "Annie needed shoes."
If her face glowed, Annie decided that was okay with her. She deserved to bask in the glory of Zack's familiarity, especially in front of yet another blonde with br**sts the size of satellite dishes. It seemed Zack had a thing for surgically enhanced women who resembled their poodles.
"Annie?" The fluffy head turned in her direction and traveled critically from her loosely tied hair to the new red shoes. The woman, age indeterminate, attempted a smile. But it didn't pass the fake test. She couldn't manipulate her rubbery bee-stung lips into anything more than a smirk.
The woman glanced back at Zack and it was obvious she was waiting for an introduction. He didn't give one. "Well," she chirped too sweetly. "I need to keep moving. Shopping to do. Toodles."
Annie waited until they were alone then she turned on him. "Why didn't you introduce me?"
He shrugged. "I couldn't remember her name."
She doubled over with laughter. "If I ever bump into you and you don't introduce me to your companion, I'm going to make you squirm, Zack DiMarco."
He placed his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "I'll never forget your name, Annie McCallum."
She froze until he let her go. Something about the affectionate way he kissed her brought up a dim memory, something to do with the night before. She shook her head. She wouldn't worry about that right now. Last night was probably way too embarrassing and best left forgotten. Whereas his action just now was definitely memorable. Her skin where he'd pressed his lips still tingled.
With her strappy red shoes clicking along the sidewalk, she followed Zack into one shop then another. They bought a tight-fitting little black dress, a pair of black hipsters, knee-high boots, two short skirts with death-defying side splits and three tops in assorted colors. Everything was skimpy. And pricey. And the smaller the outfit, the more it cost. Annie shook her head at the prices but Zack didn't blink an eye as he paid for them with plastic—the gold variety. He assured her Bob had promised to reimburse him.
Next they purchased a heavy leather jacket for riding and a lighter, three-quarter length one to wear with her new outfits on cool evenings.
"I'll look like a prostitute with this jacket and those skirts."
"Good. That's exactly the look all the young things are trying to achieve these days."
"I'm nearly thirty!"