Free Forever Branded (Billionaire Love Series #1) by Jessa Eden Page B

asked.
    “Tell me again,” I let out, having no idea what she was talking about.
    “When I’m in town for my sister’s wedding, we’ll have dinner and then go out to a new club I heard about.”
    “Yeah, that’s sounds good.”
    “Awesomesauce! I can’t wait to see you, lady. But right now, I gotta go write my column,” Stacy said.
    “Okay, I’ll talk to you soon. Stay safe and I’ll see you in October.”
     
    *****
     
     
    Beau:
    “Your shirt, sir.” Peter, my valet, held my crisp white tuxedo shirt open for me as I stood in front of the full length mirror in my huge walk-in closet.
    I buttoned it up as he got out a black valet box that contained the limited accessories I wore.
    “Cufflinks.” He motioned his hand upward as I bent my forearm, so he could smoothly thread my cuff. “I thought the silver and black pinstripe would go nicely with your silver vest,” he offered as I put my arm down.
    Fashion wasn’t really my thing, but I knew he put a lot of thought into my outfit. “Yeah, looks good,” I said, admiring my sleeve.
    He beamed, his thin mouth almost breaking into a smile. “Your jacket,” he offered as he helped me slide my arms into the form-fitting coat.
    At this point, you might be thinking, why the hell do you need someone to help you dress?
    I’ll tell you why.
    Peter was amazing.
    He took the guesswork out of trying to decide what to wear. He kept up on the latest styles and trends, and laid out a perfect outfit every day for me. I always looked good and never worried about my clothes.
    It hadn’t always been like that. I had been of the jeans and T-shirt variety when I was playing hockey, but that all changed when I got into real estate. When a business associate had first suggested a valet to me, I’d balked. It seemed weird. I was perfectly able to dress myself. No need for any help.
    Then I saw one in action when a friend got ready for his wedding. I was impressed with how professional and proficient his valet was, and the way he got my friend cleaned up after a long night of partying.
    I wanted one to make me look that good.
    So, I hired the very best. Peter was a rigid, little English man who had impeccable manners and had dressed heads of state, royalty, and perhaps David Beckham at one time.
    He was great.
    Plenty of days, I handled the dressing part myself, but he did incredible things with my wardrobe, especially on black tie nights when I needed to look my finest.
    My shoes were always shined, and my shirts and slacks were perfectly pressed. I never had stains on any of my clothes. He meticulously went through my wardrobe, looking for loose threads, unraveling seams and shoelaces which needed replaced. All things I would never care about, but I was happy to pay him to worry about.
    “Which watch?” Peter asked as he held out my black valet box.
    “I don’t know. What do you think?”
    “The Ulysse Nardin would go nicely with the silver cufflinks.”
    “Yes, it would,” I agreed as he handed me the dark leather band.
    I threw the watch on my wrist and gave myself one last look in the black Tom Ford tuxedo.
    I looked sharp.
    “Is my car ready?” I asked as he brushed me down one last time.

“Everything is ready, sir.”
    “Good.” I headed down to my personal garage and strode toward the black Aston Martin DBX Concept I had just bought.
    This car was hot off the assembly line and I had been given a chance to purchase one before anyone else. The car reminded me of a panther with Black Pearl chromium paint giving the exterior a hard, but sleek, racecar finish over the aluminum body. An electric car, this marvel of transportation was on the leading edge of technology with cameras instead of mirrors.
    I jumped in the front seat, the Nubuck leather soft as butter as I revved the engine and took off for the Lord Baltimore Hotel.
    “Call Pops,” I told Siri as I sped down the freeway on my way to the cancer benefit gala which cost fifty thousand a