Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds #2) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,71

that he drives an Audi A7, nothing too fancy. His brother has a car collection that I envy. Maybe Nate isn’t too much into cars like Ford. What does he collect?

Instead of inquiring about that, I ask, “Did you get any sleep at all?”

“During the flight from New York to Oregon,” he answers.

“I’m thankful that you picked me up, but you could’ve waited at home.”

He opens the door of the car and helps me inside. “Yes, but then I would’ve missed you for six more hours.” He kisses my cheek and closes the door.

I’m not sure if I’m confused or playing dumb. Is he flirting with me or doesn’t he know the boundaries between friends?

I fidget with my phone during the drive to his apartment. He leaves the car in front of the building and tells the doorman to park it in his garage. Nate interlaces our fingers and we head to the penthouse.

The elevator doors open right on his floor and waiting for us is Demetri who bows slightly and gives me an unwelcome glare, “Ms. Nyx.”

“Good afternoon, Demetri,” I greet him and ask, “What did I do?”

“Brock isn’t allowed to be on the furniture,” he says firmly.

I laugh and Nate tsks at me.

“Well, he’s my buddy. We read together and take naps. I can’t just let him do it on the floor, can I?” Then I glance at Nate and narrow my gaze. “You ratted me out.”

His blue eyes look at me mischievously. “Not intentionally. D complained about Brock’s behavior and I said, ‘I have no idea why he’s acting up. Take it up with Nyx. He spent most of his time with her.’”

I sigh and say, “If needed, I’ll take him with me. Now, where is my boy?”

“The terrace,” Demetri answers in such a snippy tone I almost laugh. “He’s on the couch taking a nap.”

I stretch and say, “I should join him.”

“The shopper from Bloomingdales is waiting for you in your room, Ms. Nyx,” he indicates, tilting his head toward the staircase. “You have an hour with her. The shopper from Neiman Marcus should be here at six.”

I look at Nate. “Why?”

“You mentioned you wanted to shop. I simplified things in case you were tired.” He throws one of his simple answers that annoy me because they make sense. There’s not much room to argue, but I can’t just let it go.

“I can go to the store…and I was planning on going somewhere less expensive.”

“She is here. Let’s see what we can get or at least get a few ideas of what you want to buy,” Nate argues, taking me by the hand.

His personal shopper shows me catalogs, guides me through the easy to use system where I can input all my preferences so she can find me the right styles, and she also brought some clothing items along.

Most of the clothing I try on is loose enough that if I gain weight it should still fit me. She makes a list of everything I like and leaves. The second shopper is not much different. Both leave every item that fits me, and I love them. They order the rest. Everything should be here by mid-week.

“I feel like Cinderella or Julia Roberts. You have to tell me how much you spend, Nathaniel Chadwick,” I chide him because he’s the one who tricked me into telling him if I liked the stuff or not and kept on piling it.

“Sure,” he says dismissively. “I mean, it’s nothing, Nyx.”

“Clearly those stores are nonprofit, and they just gifted me thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes because it’s giveaway day,” I say mockingly.

“Why don’t you let me take care of you?”

“Because I can take care of myself,” I answer.

“Well, too bad. I want to do it and I will do it,” he challenges me.

“You can’t just say, ‘I’m going to be your sugar daddy’ and think I’ll be okay with it,” I protest, and he laughs.

“Well, according to this blog I’ve been reading, I should be able to make my own choices. This is my choice. I am taking charge. Plus, I give zero fucks about being conventional.”

“You’re quoting my sister, aren’t you?” Those are three of her ten life mantras. “Well then, think before you act, mister.”

“Her philosophy is pretty similar to mine. I can get on board with what she says—sometimes,” he argues. “Thinking before acting is overrated.”

Nate’s words make me miss my sister, and instead of fighting about the clothing, I’m afraid that he might bring up number