Page 112 of One Rich Revenge

My lips curve. I pull the camera away and take a selfie. Before I can think better of it, I send it to Jonah.

I wait long minutes for his reply. I’m slipping on the blue dress when I finally get it.

Jonah

It’s rude to be hard in a business meeting. Or so I’ve heard.

I laugh and slap a hand over my mouth. The blue dress is partly on, and my breasts are pushed up above the top, almost baring my nipples. Am I about to do this? I guess I am. It’s fun and joyful and a little bit bad. I fire off another photo and the response comes immediately.

Jonah

Fuck.

A little lower next time.

A knock sounds and a horrified eep comes out of my mouth. I rush to zip the blue dress and let Katie in.

She assesses me like only a professional can, while I fidget under her scrutiny. “That’s lovely. Classic, elegant, flattering. I want to put you in some bold earrings to go with it. The bigger, the better. And of course you’ll need to try on a few backup dresses and then whatever else strikes your fancy.”

“Backup dresses. Of course,” I mutter, but follow her out.

George gives me an approving nod but doesn’t say anything else. Presumably they’re here to make sure Katie gets paid.

When I’m back in the room, I text Jonah again.

Callie

Where am I supposed to keep this stuff? I have a tiny closet.

I guess I can have Katie return the dresses, but a little part of me wants to pile them all into a heap and jump into it. No one has ever done anything like this for me.

Jonah

You can keep it all here.

Does he mean—no. My thoughts scurry while I think of a response. He can’t mean at his place, like I’m his girlfriend.

Jonah

I can hear you thinking. Send me another photo. This meeting is boring.

His insistence brings a smile to my lips. I decide to be very bad, instead of a little bit bad. So I put on the dangling earrings and lay on the divan in the corner. I take as artful a shot as I can manage. Nothing explicit, just cleavage, an earring, the curve of my ass.

I fire it off to Jonah with a message:

Callie

Your turn.

I lay there for several minutes, but of course he doesn’t respond. He’s in a meeting. What did you think he was going to do? Lock himself in the bathroom and strip? He’s a billionaire, Cal. Whatever he’s doing is probably worth more than all these dresses combined.

And in that moment, I feel like the cliché of a billionaire’s wife. At home, with a world that revolves around my husband. I pull off the earrings and dress in my street clothes. On the way out, I thank Katie and tell her I’ll keep just a few items—the dress, some underwear, a pair of shoes. She looks shocked, but doesn’t argue.

George raises a brow. “You didn’t want all of it?”

“I don’t have space for it.” I shrug nonchalantly, the ache in my chest growing with every minute that Jonah doesn’t answer me.

“He’s not going to like this.” George purses their lips.