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

my mom’s dolls, and Dad left a voice message checking to see if we’d arrived safely.
    I called my dad and left him a message, so he wouldn’t worry, then I looked at the room menu and ordered room service.
    By the time the coffee and pastries arrived, I’d showered and dressed in a simple black shift dress. Going for the same casual look I’d used when shopping with Derek, I even wore the same shoes I’d had on when shopping with him. They went with so many outfits, they’d been worth the $800 price tag.
    I pulled my laptop out of my overnight bag and opened up my blog to start an article. It’d be fun to take pictures and write an article about shopping in Vegas. I figured Hugo would either call my phone or the room when he was ready to go shopping.
    I’d written most of the introductory article, showing pictures of the suite, and explaining I’d be working with a client on this trip, but that the client would remain anonymous.
    A tapping at the door knocked me out of my focus. I got up and opened the door.
    Hugo leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. This time I didn’t make it awkward.
    “Don’t you look lovely?” he said.
    “Thanks.” I looked at his attire. Boxer shorts and no shirt.
    “Do you mind starting without me? I haven’t slept yet, and I’m beat.”
    I glared at him. “So, you worked last night?”
    “Yes, I got a call shortly after arriving, and I’ve been on a conference call all night.” He cocked his head. “I’m sorry. So much for escaping the real world.”
    I bit my lip to keep from saying what I wanted to say. “Fine. I’ll take the tram to Bellagio and go shopping without you. You want me to pick out some things, and maybe later you can come try them on?”
    “Tram? You’re not taking a tram.”
    “I’ll be fine. Get some sleep. I’ll have you exhausted in no time when I return.”
    “I look forward to it.” He hugged me. “I just need about four hours, and I’ll be good to go.”
    Before he disappeared down the hall, I asked, “Did the launch go off without a hitch?”
    He grinned from ear to ear. “It did. And we’re flying high.”
    I smiled and shut my door.
    Full of pastries and coffee, I headed to the Caesar’s Forum Shops. True to his statement, I wasn’t going to take the tram. Hugo made sure the doorman knew I was exiting the hotel, and he said he had a car waiting for me. Once again, I’d been driven to my destination in a limo. I could get used to this. No, no, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. This lifestyle didn’t suit me at all. I snickered to myself, Oh, yes, it does.
    “Here’s my number. Call me when you’re ready, and I’ll pick you up at the front door,” the driver said as he dropped me near the shopping entrance.
    I had the jitters, being so excited to shop without a limit, and I shivered when I entered CD (I’m using initials to protect both the guilty and the innocent) store. A pale, thin man who’d been standing with two bulimic women in their twenties approached me. The girls peeled off, as if fleeing a swarm of bees.
    The pale man, who looked more like a ghost in fine clothing, said, “May I be of service?”
    I smiled a friendly smile, fully aware my entire outfit, including my $800 shoes didn’t cost as much as the shoes he wore. But then, I paid retail, and he likely purchased his at a hefty employee discount.
    “Yes, I’m writing a blog about fashion and dressing the uber-wealthy,” I said. “And I wondered if you could help me by answering some questions?”
    The look of disdain he shot me felt like a twelve-gauge shotgun to the gut. “People that wealthy don’t buy off the rack. I don’t think there’s anything I can help you with.”
    “Really?” I said. “That’s weird, because I’m staying in the Penthouse at Aria, and my client asked me to go out ahead of him and scout. You know, look for clothes he might like.”
    “Yes, I’m sure.” The silver hair on this pin head sparkled as he turned his head toward