“Right. Of course we are.” I put on the skirt and top that I’d worn to the store. You could just barely see the top of the stockings under the hem of my skirt. It was super slutty. And my knees looked kind of weird in the stockings…
But then Frankie opened the door and Ryder’s eyes devoured my body. “Wow,” he muttered.
That’s right. I look hot.And in that moment I realized that it wasn’t the fancy clothes that were giving me confidence. It was the way Ryder looked at me. When his eyes were on me, I felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. It was a weird feeling, but I kind of liked it.Lies. I freaking loved it.
Stalker Problems - Chapter 27 - Cash or Credit
Thursday – April 13, 2023
“That’ll be $34,700,” said Ryder.
My eyes got big. That was an insane amount to pay for clothes. Good thing this was fake.But what if it isn’t? What if the Society bills me for all this stuff?
"Cash or credit?" he asked.
Frankie smiled and handed him the credit card. "Courtesy of her husband."
My husband?It took me a second to work out what was happening. Then it hit me. They were just fulfilling my wish for free shoes and revenge on my husband. They gave me shoes, and now they were making itseemlike my husband was footing the bill.
Ryder took the card and stuck it in the chip scanner. It beeped aggressively. He frowned and tried again. Same beep. Ryder narrowed his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, this card has been reported as stolen." He yanked it out of the reader and cut it in half.
Is this part of it?My mind started racing. What if the Society was a criminal organization and they’d really stolen Joe’s credit card? Wehadjust been approved for an AmEx black card. Right before he divorced me and took all our money.
“Her husband cheated on her,” said Frankie. “Buying her a few new dresses is the least he can do.”
“We should go,” I said, glancing out the window. The flashing red and blue lights of a police car approached.Oh God. They're coming for us.I pictured them screeching up to the boutique and storming in to arrest me. But the squad car sped right past. I let out a huge sigh of relief.
"Did you bring any cash?” asked Ryder.
“Um, yeah.” I rummaged through my purse and pulled out some Monopoly money. I counted it as I put it on the counter. “$800.”
“Great, that’ll get you half a legging.” He held up the awesome pair of leather leggings that Frankie had picked out and got ready to cut them in half like they were some sort of stolen credit card. “Actually…” said Ryder. “I don’t usually do this, but everything looked so good on you. And we do need some new pictures for ads. How would you like to model in exchange for the clothes?”
“No thanks, perv,” said Frankie.
“Suit yourself.” Ryder grabbed all the bags of clothes off the counter. “But I’ll need you to take off that lingerie.”
I looked down at my amazing cleavage and super cool stockings. They were so pretty. And the way they had made Ryder look at me… “Wait. I’ll do the modeling.” I immediately wished I hadn’t said it. I knewnothingabout modeling. I could hardly make a decent duck face for a selfie, much less pose for a 5thAvenue billboard.
Ryder smiled at me like he had known I would do it all along. “Great. Follow me.” He led us through a different set of doorsinto a showroom lined from floor to ceiling with shelves of Odegaards. Frankie plopped herself down on a white leather loveseat while Ryder put all my clothes next to a privacy screen in the corner.
“So what shoes do you want to model first?”
Shoe modeling? I suddenly wished I had waited to join the Society until after a few more months of spin classes. Odegaards deserved to be on some six-foot-tall angel with thighs the size of toothpicks. “Uh…” I looked at the shelves. Making a decision like this was my worst nightmare. There were strappy sandals, plain pumps, thigh-high boots with wild prints, and everything in between. The only thing they all had in common were the bright blue soles that matched the exact color of the carpet.
“How about these,” suggested Ryder. He grabbed a pair of white 6” heels with tips that curled back in a way that would have put a civil war general’s mustache to shame.Sexy elf shoes?
I must have given him a weird look, because he immediately put them back on the shelf. “Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. “Old habits die hard.”
What?Did he used to have some sort of weird elf fetish?
“How about this instead?” He picked up a fairly normal pair of lacy black heels.
I shrugged. “It’s your ad campaign.”
“Oh! Those would look great with your new little black dress,” suggested Frankie.
“I agree,” said Ryder. He rummaged through my shopping bags and tossed the dress over the top of the privacy screen. That was my cue to change.
