A Billionaire's Redemption - By Cindy Dees Page 0,35
much, and she was so involved with building her career. I’d like to say we grew apart, but I don’t honestly think we ever had all that much in common to begin with. She’s a hardcore feminist, and I’m...not.”
Willa reared back in mock horror. “You’re not one of those ‘women belong barefoot and in the kitchen’ types, are you?”
He grinned. “I like my women naked and in the bedroom, thanks.”
Her cheeks heated up, but she pressed the point. “What do you mean, you’re not a feminist?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I think women should get equal pay for equal work, and with a few exceptions for jobs requiring heavy physical labor, I think women can do just about everything men can, and just as well.”
“But?”
He sighed. “But, Melinda thought she should be in control of our marriage, and I happen to think the man should have a say at home. Or at least have equality.”
“Women should cook and clean and men should drink beer and watch sports?”
He laughed. “Not at all. I cook very well, thank you. And I can do my own laundry and scrub a toilet if it comes to it.”
She scoffed. “When’s the last time you scrubbed a toilet?”
He shot her a chagrined smile. “Not since my bank account topped a billion. Still, I stand by the point I’m trying to make. Melinda wanted to make all the financial decisions, even though I was the one with business experience and decent money sense. She wanted to schedule all our free time to support her career and never mine.” As Willa opened her mouth to protest that women should be part of those decisions in a marriage, Gabe waved a hand to stop her so he could add, “And she wanted to be in charge in the bedroom.”
Ahh. Willa could see where a man like Gabe might balk at that. He was definitely a take-charge sort. She’d never even kissed the guy, and she could tell he would want to call the shots in bed. Personally, the notion made her feel fluttery and a little weak in the knees.
“What time does the rubber backstabbing and blood-letting begin tonight?” he asked with certain resignation.
“Seven.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.” She frowned, confused, and he clarified. “They won’t serve dinner until at least eight, and I can only take so much judgment and condemnation before they get on my nerves.”
“No one will—”
He cut her off gently. “Mark my words. Tonight will be a nightmare.”
Not if she had anything to say about it.
“I do have one request, though.”
She looked up sharply at the serious tone in his voice. “What’s that?”
“Wear something people will notice you in.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Don’t want me to ruin your reputation for dating hot chicks, huh?”
“Not at all. I could never stand seeing you in the back of your father’s campaign ads looking like a mouse and blending in with the wallpaper. You’re a beautiful, sexy woman, and you’re Senator Merris now. It’s time for people to notice you.”
Wow. That was really perceptive of him. Her father had always demanded that she and her mother dress ultraconservatively, and in colors and styles that wouldn’t call attention to themselves. She had more beige, boring dresses than she cared to count. Maybe this afternoon she’d burn them all.
And maybe this afternoon she should go shopping for the sexiest dress she could find, and spend the rest of the day making herself irresistibly gorgeous for this man who actually seemed to see her.
To that end, she stood her ground and insisted he go home to catch a nap and get a little work done. As soon as his SUV turned the corner and disappeared from sight, she headed for her own car and drove back to Dallas. She made a beeline for Nieman Marcus and its amazing personal shoppers. She’d never even looked for the sort of gown she had in mind for tonight and wanted to get it just right.
Sure enough, a lovely woman named Chloe found her the perfect dress, sexy but classy, and entirely grown-up. Willa was sick and tired of being John Merris’s quiet, conservative, proper daughter who never drew attention to herself. For once, she wanted to draw a whole lot of attention to herself. At least from one man in particular.
As Willa stood in front of her bathroom mirror, carefully applying her makeup, she felt like Cinderella transforming into a princess for a night. Although the rollers all over her head did look rather