Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 126510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Her measurements? And for that matter what was wrong with her clothes? Why would he just throw them out without even consulting her? How wasteful was that? The clothes certainly weren’t expensive by his standards, but she’d had to save to buy each and every item and she’d never been able to go and buy an entire wardrobe or anything. She bought a pair of jeans or a T-shirt or a pair of shoes. When she had the means to do so. Sending money to her parents was her first priority. Her comfort was a far second on her list. It stung that he’d so thoughtlessly discarded clothing that she’d worked damn hard for. So what if they were bought in a thrift shop or on the clearance rack of a bargain shopping center? She’d paid for every single thing with her own money. No one had given her anything and she took pride in that. Never once did one of her roommates have to cover her share of the rent, because she made sure that after sending money to her family, she had enough to cover her part of their living arrangement and pitch in on groceries. She also did most of the cooking so they didn’t spend money eating out, which meant she saved more money for the necessities. Drake was obviously ashamed of her, and that ate at her. She had her pride. She knew she wasn’t anything to look at, and she still couldn’t fathom what she was doing here in his apartment with instructions to go shopping for an entire new wardrobe where one outfit would likely cost more than all the things Drake had so blithely tossed out.
She felt . . . humiliated.
She jumped, her pulse accelerating when a phone rang next to her on the bed. She glanced warily, looking for the source, to see an expensive high-tech cell phone that would take her a year to save for and was definitely a frivolous expenditure. She glanced back at the note to read further and saw that Drake had informed her the phone was hers and that he would be calling her later in the morning.
She tentatively picked up the phone, hoping she was hitting the right button, and murmured a hesitant hello. His answer was crisp, businesslike.
“Justice is on his way. He may already be there. He’s taking you shopping.”
She felt an unexpected sense of disappointment that it wasn’t Maddox. He had been the nicest to her and wasn’t quite as intimidating as some of the other men Drake worked with. And then she shook her head because she was crazy. They were all dangerous and complete strangers to her, and yet she was to trust them because Drake instructed her to.
She hesitated and bit into her bottom lip, bothered that she was even required to go on a shopping trip. If she wasn’t good enough for him as she was, then she sure as hell wasn’t going to change everything about her just so she met his standards. Whatever the hell they were since he hadn’t exactly been forthcoming on those yet.
He seemed to pick up on her sudden silence, and she wondered if she should add mind reading to his growing list of accomplishments, though it appeared as though there was nothing he couldn’t do or accomplish. But then money, or rather having money, lots of money, seemed to come with a completely different set of rules and parameters that favored the “haves” over the “have-nots.”
“What’s wrong, Angel?” he asked in a soft voice that suggested he would not be pleased nor would he believe her if she simply said nothing or pretended that he was imagining things. It would be an insult to his superior intelligence.
She flinched, not wanting to get into what was bothering her.
In a subdued, quiet voice she responded. “Why did you throw away all my clothing, even my underwear and my shoes? If I’m not good enough for you the way I am, then why would you want to change me into something I’m not? It wouldn’t be real. Unless that’s what you want and any woman would do. A woman you play dress-up with like a doll and make her ‘good enough’ to be seen with you. I’m proud of who and what I am,” she said fiercely. “I paid for every single item of clothing you thoughtlessly threw away. I liked them. More importantly, nobody bought them for me or gave them to me. I worked for everything I have and by throwing practically everything I own away you sent the message loud and clear that I’m not good enough, and you’re sending one of your minions shopping with me so I don’t embarrass you in front of others.”
The line went silent, and she tensed because she could practically feel his seething anger through the phone. She swallowed nervously and closed her eyes, thinking that maybe he would be just pissed off enough to wash his hands of her now and let her go back home.