“This is all for me to try on?” I ask, staring at five racks of clothing that fill one of Camden’s guest bedrooms.
He stands behind me, his hands on my arms and his lips pressing into my shoulder. “It sure is. I told the stylist I wasn’t sure what kind of look you were going for, so I wanted you to have options.”
I stare at the mountain of sequins, tassels, and silk in front of me. It’s overwhelming. We landed in New York a few hours ago, and my head has been spinning ever since. I went to school in Chicago, and while it’s not Manhattan, it’s still busy and totally opposite of Sutten. This has been a whole different world. I should’ve known from the moment the private jet picked us up that nothing could’ve prepared me for the world Camden lives in.
He has drivers, a private chef, and house staff who greeted us upon our arrival at his penthouse. And apparently, he has things like stylists who show up with dresses that probably cost more than my mortgage.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper.
“Don’t freak out.” He presses his lips to my neck, as if he can tell I’m getting overwhelmed.
“I knew our lives were different,” I begin. “I’m not dumb. But this is just…a lot.”
“If it’s too much, we can skip the gala altogether tomorrow. We can hang out here or go somewhere low-key in the city.”
I shake my head, turning around to face him. “No, I wanted to come and experience your world. I want to see your gallery tomorrow, and I want to go to the gala. I want to see everything about your life here. I just didn’t really know people had personal stylists, is all.”
“She only helps me with elaborate events.”
I sigh, leaning into his touch. “That’s no pressure at all.”
“You’re radiant, remember? You could wear what you have on right now, and you’d still capture everyone’s attention tomorrow night. Don’t worry about a dress. If it’s too much, we can just go shopping tomorrow.”
“I just wish I had Mare or a girlfriend here to help me.”
“About that…” He looks off to the side as if he’s nervous about what he’s about to say.
“What?” I press, shivering because his penthouse is far colder than I imagined it would be.
“I may have invited Beck and Margo over. I figured Margo could help you out. She’s been doing this stuff for a while now with Beck. But they’ll understand if I tell them never mind.”
I purse my lips. I’ve only briefly spoken to Margo on her wedding day; most of my conversations were with her planner. We didn’t get the chance to speak at Camden’s gallery opening. But she seems nice. And if she knows more about this fancy New York life, I could use her help.
“I think I’d like that.” I nod, further deciding. “Plus, if she’s going to be there tomorrow night, it’d be nice to have another familiar face.”
“Is my face not good enough?”
I trace over his cheekbones. “Your face is perfect.”
He nips at my fingers. “Good girl.” He presses a kiss to my lips. “And I’m glad you said yes because I think they’re on their way up.”
“You were very confident I’d say yes.”
“Margo is persistent. She wanted to officially meet you. Beck did as well. He doesn’t believe any woman would put up with me this long.”
“It really is a chore,” I tease, completely lying. It’s easy being with him. Almost too easy. I’m waiting for the ball to drop, to find out where this goes wrong.
“I’m going to warn you right now, there’s a good chance Margo brought Emma. And maybe even Winnie. The three of them are often a package deal.”
I feel a little nervous if it’s more than Margo. If the three of them are so close, will they even talk to me? I already feel out of place. This might even make it worse. Or maybe they’ll make it better. I need to try and be optimistic.
I suck a breath in, feeling incredibly overwhelmed. When he asked me to come to New York with him, I imagined us visiting Times Square together. Maybe stopping by a booth to buy an “I <3 NYC” shirt. He’d take me to his gallery before we had to get ready for the gala. I wasn’t anticipating stylists and groups of friends and galas so fancy that it takes an evening gown to attend.
The nicest dress I’ve ever worn was my slutty prom dress that I got at a department store. I’m not used to things this nice. We grew up with money compared to others in our small town. The ranch was profitable. But it was nowhere near the Livingstons. Or anything close to the world that Camden lives in.
“Asshole,” a voice calls from somewhere else in the penthouse. It’s so much open space that the voice echoes off the marble floors and walls. “Yoohooooo,” it calls again. “Looking for Mr. Cranky Asshole.”
Camden’s head falls backward, his throat bobbing with a long swallow. “Please don’t listen to anything she says, okay?”
“Is that Margo?”
“No. That would be Emma.”
A head pops into the doorway. She’s gorgeous. Her hair is a perfect blonde. I truly can’t tell if it’s natural or if she dyes it that color. “Oh my god, you’re here!” the girl shrieks, running into the room and scooping me into a hug.
My eyes go wide as I look to Camden from over her shoulder. She’s shorter than me, giving me a perfect view of a smirking Camden. He looks from us to two more figures that appear in the doorway.
“Okay, Emma, let her go. You’re going to scare her away before we even get to spend time with her,” a voice I don’t recognize says.
The blonde gives me one final squeeze before she pulls away. “I’m sorry. I’m a total hugger, and to be honest, I was wondering if Camden was making you up when he kept talking about you.”
“Hi,” I get out, giving her a friendly smile. “He talks about me a lot?” I push, looking to him with a wink.
He gives me a playful smirk with a shrug.
The girl—Emma—lets out a long sigh. “All the time, really. I thought for sure he had to be making you up. I mean, who would want to put up with him?” She gives him a look, one to which he flips her off.
“I’m Margo,” a girl with dark hair says. “And I’m also a total hugger, but we can shake hands, too, if Emma just overwhelmed you.”
I can’t help but laugh, holding my arms out for a hug. “I’m Pippa. I kind of saw you in Sutten at the gallery opening. My cafe did the food.”
Margo’s eyes go wide, and she looks over to Emma, who must come to the same realization as her because she gasps. “Camden! You’re dating the poor woman you were an absolute ass to at my wedding?”
“That would be me,” I admit, finishing the hug with Margo.
“Tell me you gave him a lot of hell before he got into your good graces,” Margo muses.
“Oh, I really had to work to get in her good graces,” Camden pipes up from behind Emma and Margo.
“I’m sure you did,” a man comments from next to him. I know it’s Beckham Sinclair—or Beck as Camden calls him—because there are many photos of them together on the internet.
“I’m Beck,” the man offers, holding his hand out in a very businesslike handshake. “And what Emma said. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I can’t believe it was you who did the dessert at our wedding. We still have people talking about how delicious it all was! God, I feel like a bitch I didn’t recognize you to begin with,” Margo adds.
I swat at the air. “It’s fine, really. I’m terrible with names and faces, so I totally get it. It’s great to meet all of you. Or officially meet you, I should say.”
Emma shakes her head, looking at me like I’m a ghost. “I remember how much of a tool he was to you. He must have really had to work for it.”
All I do is smile because there’s no way I’m going to tell them every single way he made up for it. A lot of it is far too intimate for me to tell people who are basically strangers to me.
“Let’s just say a lot has changed since then,” I answer.
“I’m shocked you don’t have your third wheel with you,” Camden notes, walking up to me and pulling me into his chest. I like that even with his friends around, he seems comfortable with public affection. “Where’s Winnie?”
Emma rolls her eyes, walking over to the racks of clothes and searching through the dresses. “She’s late and not answering my calls. Which is unfortunate because she has more gala experience than all of us combined.” She looks over at Beck and Camden. “Well, most of us. These two also grew up with that nice silver spoon in their mouths.”
“Winnie will be here soon, Em,” Margo offers, walking to where Emma stands. “But we don’t need her to have Pippa start trying on dresses.” She turns to me, a huge smile on her face. I remember thinking when we briefly spoke at her wedding that she was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever met. It was her striking green eyes and the way she really looked at you when she was talking to you. “Is that okay with you?” Margo adds at the last minute.
I nod. “I’m going to be honest. I grew up on a ranch. I don’t really do fancy.” My eyes scan over all the dresses. “I don’t even know where to begin with all of this.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Emma says energetically, pulling a clementine-orange dress from the racks. “Okay, well, this is an immediate no,” she notes, shoving it back into the mountain of silk and tulle.
Margo turns to the guys. “Okay, you two can go. Make yourself useful and make us some dinner.”
Camden cocks his head to the side. “I’d envisioned taking Pippa out somewhere tonight. There’s a few places I want to show her.”
Margo shakes her head. “No. She traveled all day; there’s an event tomorrow. Give the girl some peace and let her chill here tonight. There’s plenty of time to show her around the best city in the world tomorrow.”
“Now, go make us some food. The both of you, shoo!” Emma claps her hands together, dismissing them without any kind of afterthought as she turns back to the rack of clothes. Margo joins her, looking at the dresses on the one next to her.
“You good?” Camden asks, leaning down to place a kiss to my lips.
I nod. “We’re good in here. Go make me food.”
“See you in a bit, shortcake,” he says lowly, giving me a wink before following Beck out the door.
When I turn to face Margo and Emma, I find them both grinning ear to ear, looking at me.
“What?” I ask, confused as to why they’re both staring at me.
“Oh, he’s so gone for you,” Emma teases.
