top. Paired with a pair of dark skinny jeans and brown riding boots, I look casual, but still nice like Zack. I took some extra time on my make-up and hair and hope I don’t look too plain sitting next to him; but then I remember the appreciative look he gave me when I walked out of my room earlier. He thought I looked good and that’s all that matters.
“I thought we’d go do some shopping on Michigan Avenue and head out for a late lunch somewhere.” I don’t ask anything else, but my intuition tells me he has something else planned besides just shopping and food.
It takes us twenty minutes before Darren stops on Michigan Avenue. I have never been to Chicago, and even though I never said anything to Zack, I am thrilled he thought to bring me here. We spend almost an hour walking through at least dozen stores. I haven’t bought anything yet, and it’s when we’re leaving the last store, that Zack finally asks me why.
I shrug. I don’t know why. I am having a great afternoon, talking to Zack and just looking at all the high-end fashion stores that it hasn’t even occurred to me yet to buy anything.
“If you don’t buy something soon, I’m going to buy something for you. Like, in there.” I gasp when I see him pointing at Louis Vuitton. There is no way I am going to let him spend that much money on me. Besides, I have enough money and don’t need him wasting his on me.
“I’m not letting you buy me something – especially a Vuitton bag. That’s insane, Zack.” He doesn’t care.
“Then pick something else.”
I sigh, knowing he’ll keep pushing and the last thing I want to do today is leave with a two thousand dollar bag I didn’t pay for and don’t need.
“I’m more of a shoe girl.” He glances up the street, checking out the stores. “But you’re not spending any money on me.”
“Why not? I have lots of it.” He says this so easily. He’s not bragging; it’s just a fact. He probably has more money than he knows what to do with.
I walk away towards one of the department stores at the corner. I want a pair of grey ankle boots for winter, anyway. I might as well pick them up now.
“So do I.” I say it more to myself than him, but he hears me anyway. At his questioning look, I explain briefly because I figure he’s wondering how a family photographer can have ‘lots’ of money. “I was given a huge settlement from the car crash; plus a life insurance policy payout on Mark.”
It’s guilt money, really. I was awarded several million dollars in a private settlement when I promised I wouldn’t sue the driver who hit Mark and Andrew. I didn’t want to take it, even though they could easily afford it. Everyone convinced me to take it saying the scandal would go away more quickly if I didn’t press charges. I hate having the money. The life insurance from Mark alone ensures I am taken care of financially. I only took it because I was sick and tired of seeing my name and my family’s faces spread across the evening news when the media wouldn’t drop the story. I wasn’t even planning on pressing charges. However, once word was leaked how much I settled for, there was a whole other group of stories running about me accepting a pay-off. On one hand they were right, but I certainly wasn’t the mourning gold-digger like I was painted. I was so thankful when the story died down two months after the accident and they finally left me alone to mourn in peace and quiet.
I don’t want to talk about it anymore so I just grab his hand and pull him towards the department store. After an hour of trying on shoes and walking around the shoe department, I find exactly what I’m looking for and we leave the store with my new boots in hand.
“I’m exhausted,” I say when we reach the street again. It’s been so long since I spent hours walking through stores and trying on so many pairs of shoes, I forgot how tiring it can be.
“Ready for lunch?”
“Yes. Did you have something in mind?” I look to him to see if he’s going to reveal his secret, but he doesn’t. Instead he just types out a message on his phone and puts it away.
“Darren will be