add in the charm I've perfected. "I think everything has a price, don't you?"
Star does the opposite of what I thought she would. Her face falls. She's never glared at me before, but I want to crawl into a hole, it's so vicious. "There is no amount of money you can give me to break the trust or confidence my girls put in me. If you think you're the first member to try, you're wrong. And I'm giving you a pass since you typically stay in the bar. But next time, I'm putting you on warning, Colton. I will not have any member of this club break the rules."
I hold my hands in the air. "All right. Point taken. Sorry I asked."
Star glances out the window. She says in a low voice, "I don't know your intentions with her, but all I'm going to tell you is this."
"What?"
She faces me. "Every woman has their own reasons for being here. They are all important to them. Some have more heart-wrenching issues than others. Don't do anything to screw her over."
"I'm not. I wouldn't."
She smiles and pats me on the shoulder. "Good. I'm going to hold you to it." She leaves my suite.
The conversation does nothing to make my obsession with Jasmine diminish. I leave, go home, and hardly sleep. I can't stop wondering why she needs the money, and the guilt about crossing this line churns in my gut.
6
Jasmine
All night, I review the insurance policy. Like Colton stated, it covers almost everything on earth. Unlike my employer, who is always cutting benefits to drive the cost down, Colton's policy has to cost a fortune.
Relieved I won't have to worry about preexisting conditions, cancer treatment, or other issues I experienced with past insurances, my silent tears fall onto my pillow until I finally drift to sleep.
My alarm rings. I start to drag myself out of bed, exhausted as always, but a notification pops up on my phone with the contract. I sit on the edge of the bed and open it.
I'm relieved to see it's only one page. The language is easy to understand and clear. I'm not an attorney, but I don't see anything that could harm me. And it came from his lawyer, so I assume it's legal.
I'm his beck-and-call stripper. Is it legal?
Stripping isn't illegal. Is it?
No.
But is this arrangement?
It says I'm his personal assistant. Is that what all rich guys call their personal strippers?
I push my thoughts away. Think of Abby.
I sign it electronically and send it back. I put my feet on the ground, and my phone chimes with a text.
Colton: Good morning.
I wish I could stop the smile forming on my face. I don't want to be attracted to him. I definitely don't want to fall for him. I'm not ever going to sleep with him.
I respond.
Me: Morning. Are you always up this early?
He calls me, and I pick up. "Hi."
The sound of his voice alone makes my heart pitter-patter, and I curse myself again.
"I scheduled the car to pick you up at ten. Your credit card won't arrive until tomorrow, so I added you to my La Perla account. Talk to Tracey when you get there."
And so it begins.
My chest tightens. "Is there a certain color or style you prefer?"
"Surprise me. Pick what you want. Let's start with five outfits."
"Five?"
"Yes."
My anxiety increases. "What am I to wear over it?"
"After La Perla, I'm sending you to Bergdorf's. Bree will assist you. You're on my account there, too."
"And Bree knows what I'm looking for?"
"Yes. We have a fundraiser tonight. It'll be boring and stuffy. I highly suggest focusing on alcohol."
I laugh.
"I wish I were kidding."
"Oh. Sorry."
"I'll get us out of there as soon as possible."
I swallow the lump in my throat. "And then?"
"Then I'm going to unwrap you and see what gift you got for me at La Perla."
My cheeks turn to fire. "I meant after Bergdorf's."
"Oh. The driver will take you to the salon and then home. I'll pick you up at six."
"No. I'll meet you."
"No, I'll pick you up," he sternly says.
"The contract said I was to meet you. It didn't say anything about you coming to my home." I don't want him to know anything about me. This is business, and I want to keep it that way. And I never want my daughter or Maribel to see or know about him.
I wait out his silence, thinking of more rebuttals if he tries to convince me.
He finally caves. His voice is harsh. "Did you