Trained(The Monroe Trilogy Book 2)By: Cynthia Dane
They had his name on them.
Soon so would Alice. His name on her body. Hearing his name in the back of her mind at all hours of the day. Physically. Emotionally. Psychologically.
Soon Alice Culver would no longer be known by that name. Damon didn’t care what his father thought about that. Damon respected his father, but he was not subservient to him. Life was too short to be betrothed to anyone but the woman of his dreams.
“Do you think I should pack more?”
Candice looked at the two stuffed suitcases in Alice’s bedroom. “What the hell else are you going to pack? The last of your possessions? You look like you’re moving out!”
If Monroe has his way, I might do that. How did one let a billionaire down? Cite the fact that they had barely been going steady for a week? “Sorry, Mr. Monroe, but we’re moving a bit too fast. Just last week I was letting you stick it in me for the first time. Now you’re spanking me and asking me to marry you. Can we slow down a bit? I need some breathing room to catch up. Also, are there SparkNotes available for what’s happened in our relationship so far? I’m woefully behind on my reading homework.”
“He said we’re going to be in Chicago for a week. What if I have to change clothes multiple times? I didn’t buy enough outfits when we went shopping!” Ms. Sarah Clayborn had appeared to take the girls for a day of shopping. I went to boutiques I had only dreamed of before. The finest fabrics and most stylish cuts were at the disposal of Monroe’s credit card. Candice was along for the ride, although Alice tried not to buy her too much. Who knew what the hard limits were? Not even Ms. Clayborn could answer that.
“You bought half a boutique I hadn’t even heard of before.” Candice scoffed. “What’s wrong with some of the clothes you already had?”
“Oh my God, Candice,” Alice had an anxiety attack thinking of standing next to Damon Monroe dressed in her torn jeans and a T-shirt she had kept from high school. “I could never do that. Are you nuts?”
“Right, right. Your clothes aren’t all Versace.” Candice sighed. “I might have some things that fit you and you can take. For you know, downtime.” She kept rolling her eyes as if that was going to change Alice’s opinion. “Can’t be caught dead in your private hotel room wearing nothing but designer wear now.”
“Candi, I’m dating a billionaire. The bastard has standards even if he doesn’t realize it.” He once hugged Alice while she was wearing her Blue Bird uniform. He couldn’t stop commenting on how “scratchy” it was. Unlike his wonder suits, of course. They were perfectly soft and great to wear. For anyone to wear. Including Alice. I like to think about curling up on the couch with one of his suit jackets. Sounded like the perfect way to end a rainy day. “Thanks, though. I’d appreciate it. Can I borrow those really soft T-shirts of yours?”
“The white ones? Sure.”
Alice was leaving for Chicago the next day. Well, technically she was leaving for Chicago Midway Airport via Monroe’s personal jet. One of the Clayborns was supposed to pick her up and get on the jet with her. The last thing Alice wanted was to show up and be surrounded by perfectly dressed businessmen and women without looking like she at least financially belonged there. All the better if Monroe paid for her clothes. I’ve already picked out my outfit. A deep red cold-shoulder blouse she picked up at a boutique called The Crimson Dove. I’ve driven past that place so many times but knew I could never go inside. The cheapest thing in there had been a scarf for five-hundred dollars! Sometimes that’s the size of my whole paycheck.
Speaking of her paycheck… Alice stared at her cell phone, realizing she had a rather important call to make.
No, she hadn’t cleared the next few days off from work. Scott even said something about bumping her up to dinners so she could cash in on tips. I’ve proven myself there, a few blights considered. Yet…
She picked up her phone. No time like the present to throw one’s career away for a billionaire!
“Wow.” Alice continued to stare out the terminal window while Ms. Clayborn spoke with a flight attendant. “You sure that’s it? You’re absolutely sure? Because I’m pretty sure that’s a commercial jet. It has to be!”