Style (Dressing a Billionaire Book 2): A Romantic Comedy by Jamie Lee Scott Page B

away with me.” He followed me as I walked in and sat down on the brown leather sofa.
    “What are friends for?” I mused. “Our rooms look very similar,” I said. I got up and walked into the bedroom.
    The bed looked like mine, but without a headboard, and different colored pillows on the bed.
    “So,” I said. “You’ve been up for a while?”
    “Actually, I got up when you knocked.”
    “Where’d you sleep?”
    “I fell asleep on the couch.”
    The couch looked comfy, but not that comfy.
    “What time do you want to try on clothes?” I swept through the room and into the bathroom.
    Similar white marble floors, heated. An oversized tub and a heated towel rack.
    “Let me shower, and I’ll be ready to go in thirty?” He sounded perplexed. “Is everything okay?”
    I turned to look at him. “Just checking out the room.” Wanting to be sure you’re alone , I almost added.
    “Are you sure?”
    I pulled a Hugo and leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sure. I’ll call and let the store know you’ll be ready in thirty. They’re delivering my picks to the room.”
    “Oh, Maisy darling, that’s going to be such a hassle to return them. We can go back to the store.” He walked over to the shower and turned on the water.
    “Fine. I’ll wait for you and call the store to let them know we’re on our way.”
    I waited for him to drop his boxers in front of me, but he didn’t move. Finally, it got awkward, and I went to the living room.
    We arrived at EZ within the hour.
    The manager greeted us. “Hugo? I’m Mario Estrella.”
    Gracious as always, Hugo shook hands and said, “Hugo Popovits.”
    I think Mario’s eyes almost popped out of his head, but he covered well. “Maisy, I thought you said he only wore…”
    Hugo had dressed in the jeans I’d bought him, along with a button down shirt. “Yes, well, never brag on a man or a dog, they’ll make a liar out of you.”
    Mario laid out the choices we’d picked, and Hugo loved all of them. He went into the dressing room and refused to come out. Mario came and went, and I sat on the couch scrolling through Facebook. Then I decided to take photos of the outfits I’d put together, so I could write a blog post on men’s fashion and colors.
    Almost an hour later, Hugo emerged. “Now all I need is pajamas.” He looked at Mario, and handed him a credit card. I’ll take everything on the left. The stuff on the right didn’t fit. But you already know what worked. Thanks.”
    He sat down on the couch with me. I said, “Don’t I get to see you in the clothes I picked?”
    “We’ll have a fashion show later. Right now, I want to shop some more.”
    Mario brought Hugo’s card and receipt to be signed. “I’ll have everything sent to your hotel.”
    Hugo stood and handed him the slip, taking his card. “It’s been, well, sort of fun.”
    “It has. Thank you, Mr., I mean, Hugo.”
    Mario leaned in to hug me and said, “He didn’t try on anything. He was on his phone the whole time. If something doesn’t fit, send it back, I’ll take care of everything.”
    I kissed Mario on the cheek. “Gracias, Mario, you’ve been a peach.”
    I glared at Hugo as he strolled out of the store.
    Hugo said, “Pajama shopping?”
    I bumped him and said, “I prefer you without pajamas.”
    “A little forward, aren’t you?”
    Apparently not forward enough. I rolled my eyes.
    We walked by the CD store. Hugo stopped. “Let’s go in here.”
    I offered a sick smile. “Let’s.”
    Prissy boy greeted Hugo, then glared at me. “Hello, sir. Let me know if I can be of any help.”
    Hugo walked around, looking at the dull white, gray, browns and blacks the store offered. He picked up a pair of shoes. Shiny leather lace ups. “What do you think of these, Maisy?”
    I looked up from the floor, where I’d been concentrating my efforts with the toe of my shoe rubbing the surface. “Nice,” I responded.
    “Can I get your size?” the salesman offered.
    Hugo