Free Style (Dressing a Billionaire Book 2): A Romantic Comedy by Jamie Lee Scott

think maybe I did have a good idea after spending the afternoon with my mom. Product launching sucks.
    “What can I do for you?”
    “I can’t do this anymore. I’ve done everything I can do, and the rest is up to my crew. If I can’t walk away now and trust they’ll fly without me, why do I have them, right?” Not exactly an answer.
    What the hell did I know about his business? “Whatever you say.”
    “I need to get my mind off this launch, so I thought maybe you could pack an overnight bag, and we could fly to Vegas.” Just so matter of fact, like he was my only client. I had no plans to be an on-call friend.
    This had to stop. He couldn’t just keep calling or showing up at my door last minute, expecting me to drop everything. Lifestyles of the rich and spoiled. I’m sure everyone he knew was at his beck and call. Not me, no way, I had a life, and a career to build, and Hugo didn’t get to pop in whenever he liked and disrupt my plans because he had new plans. So I said, “Sure, what time will you pick me up?”
    I couldn’t believe the words that I’d said. He had a girlfriend, probably a soon-to-be fiancée again. I should have asked if she’d be okay with it.
    “Can you drive to my home? I have the helicopter there waiting.”
    Maybe Kelsey was coming with us. I couldn’t make myself ask.
    “Give me an hour?” I said.
    “I’ll be waiting.”
    “What’s up?” Mom said.
    “Hugo wants to fly to Vegas to go shopping. He said he needs to get his mind off work.”
    Dad said, “After all of those flowers, you’d better get a move on. I think that boy has a crush.”
    I stood up from the dinner table. “It’s not like that. He has a fiancée.”
    Mom and Dad stared after me with their mouths open. I think I saw food fall out of my dad’s mouth.
    I heard my mom say, “Now she thinks she’s Princess Diana. Little does she realize, she’s only the hired help.”
    Dad said, “She could be Princess Diana, with some work, and etiquette classes. Maybe a Miss Manners book.”
    “Yes. Yes, she could,” my mom’s voiced sounded like she really meant it.
    I almost turned around and gave both of them a hug, then I remembered, Orlean compared me to Taylor Swift, saying Kelsey was the princess. I had no desire to be a princess, a pop star, or a billionaire’s wife. I had a desire to get laid, though. Maybe I’d find love in all the wrong places in Vegas.
    And just like that, I packed a bag and drove to Hugo’s home. Coming up the drive with the sun setting made his house look like a painting. And the image was appropriate, because this dream would end soon enough, and aren’t paintings just like a dreamscape?
    Bobby stood outside the front door and took my bag. “They’re on the helipad.”
    He walked me about fifty yards from the house, and there stood Hugo and Timmy, waiting.
    “I feel like I’m being airlifted,” I yelled to Bobby.
    “You are,” he said. “Only hospitals are there to save you. Vegas may kill you.”
    I thought about that as Hugo helped me into the white Eurocopter. He also helped me to my seat, which happened to be smooth white leather. I sat down and buckled in, acting like I did this daily. Hugo handed me a headset with a tiny microphone, then put one on his head.
    In my ear, I heard him say, “Easier to talk to each other this way.”
    I said, “Hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to sleep. It’s been an exhausting day.”
    I didn’t really want to sleep, but I didn’t want to talk to him where Timmy could hear. He’d barely acknowledged me as we boarded the Eurocopter and didn’t speak to me when he entered the pilot’s seat. He spoke only to Hugo.
    He gave him the ETA, then said, “I’m not happy about this last-minute junket.”
    Hugo said, “That’s great, because you aren’t a part of the junket, just the transportation,” and closed his eyes.
    I glanced at him, then spent the rest of the trip alternately looking out the window and closing my eyes