Page 106 of The Grand Duel
Lissie
Assistant to director
Charles Aldridge Ltd
Go out and buy something. Or I can have something brought to your room if you’d prefer. My bank card is in the safe in my room. 8475.
Charles Aldridge
Director
Charles Aldridge Ltd
I pull up his number and call him.
“Hello.”
“Hi,” I say with a sleepy smile, walking across the decking. “You know you could just text me instead of emailing me.”
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
My smile grows, my stomach doing stupid things. “This gala. Is there a dress code?”
“Black tie.”
“Okay, perfect.” I slide open the terrace door and walk inside the suite. “Do you need anything whilst I’m out?”
“No, I have all I need. Take my card. Did you get it from my room yet?”
“Not yet.” I narrow my eyes. “I can pay for my own clothes, you know.”
“You wouldn’t be needing new clothes if it wasn’t for me asking you to the gala. Treat yourself, Lissie. I’m paying.”
“Well, I won’t argue with that. I’ll warn you, though, I have very expensive taste.”
“Do your worst.”
I did. My worst, that is. I walk through the door to our suite three hours later with five bags hooked on my arms.
Charles must hear me and appears in the doorway of his room.
“I thought you’d done a runner on me.”
I stop short, my mouth going dry at the sight of him. “You sent me shopping,” I mutter, my eyes greedy as they take in his mostly unbuttoned shirt and cream trousers.
His feet are bare, and the idea of it, that he’s not long started to undress, makes a flush of heat rove over my skin.
He takes a sip of what looks to be whiskey before placing it down on a nearby table. “What did you get?” He starts towards me.
“That’s none of your business,” I say, feeling a little flustered the closer he comes.
He gives me a look. “I paid for it.”
“You paid for these.” I hold out three bags to him which he takes. “Dress, bag, and the shoes you technically owe me.”
He frowns, taking the bags. “Why would I technically owe you a pair of shoes?”