“Well, I’m glad to hear he’s finally decided to settle down somewhat, especially after what happened with Julie,” she said, adjusting my tits in the dress. I think she secretly wanted to grope them. I wasn’t the least bit offended, if that was the case, but I was curious about what she’d said.

“Julie? Who’s Julie?” I asked, eager for any intel on Noah’s past. Not because I cared, but because I wanted the ammunition should the need for it arise later.

“No one. Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything,” she said quickly. “Hey, you are absolutely smoking in this dress.”

Way to change the subject, little sneaky one. I’ll have to keep my eye on you, I thought.

~$~

I couldn’t even begin to tell you how long we spent shopping. I let Polly choose the majority of the clothes, and all of the shoes. I wasn’t opposed to looking nice, and I actually really loved all the cute shoes she picked out, even though I knew they were a safety hazard for someone like me. She refused to let me buy any underwear because Noah wanted to do that part. But really, couldn’t a girl just get some regular cotton panties?

Finally Polly decided we should break for a late lunch.

“So, tell me a little bit about yourself,” she said, digging into her salad.

“What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know. The basics, I guess. Where are you from? Who are your parents? What do you do? That sort of stuff. I mean, Noah even kept your name hush-hush,” she said with a roll of her eyes, clearly aggravated by his refusal to give her any details about me.

“That’s because I’m in the witness protection program,” I said nonchalantly before I took a bite of my sandwich.

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“You’re what?” She dropped her fork.

“Yep,” I said, doing my damnedest not to crack a smile.

My attempt was futile because the look on her face was simply priceless, and I lost it, practically spewing bread crumbs all over the place.

“You little liar!” she laughed. “You almost had me there. Now, tell me the truth.”

“Okay, the truth is I’m from Graceland and Elvis Presley is my father.”

“Elvis and Graceland?” she said with an arched brow. “Aren’t you a little too young to be his kid?”

“Uh-uh. Haven’t you heard? He isn’t really dead. He’s off with Tupac and Biggie, popping pills and smoking ganja.”

Polly sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Would you believe Michael Jackson and the Neverland Ranch?” I asked in my best Maxwell Smart impersonation. “I’m white enough for that, right?”

“All right, smartass,” she said, throwing a cucumber slice at me. “I get it. You obviously don’t want to talk about yourself. But why is that, Lanie? What are you hiding?”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” I pointed an accusing finger at her. “Noah already warned me all about your conniving little ways. Don’t try to go all supersleuth on me. I’m really just not that interesting. I come from a small town, and I moved out to LA because I had big dreams of breaking into the porn industry. It just didn’t work out.” I shrugged.

Polly choked on her water and I couldn’t help but laugh at the look of shock on her face.

“I’m kidding … about the small town.” I giggled.

That earned another huff from Polly, but she finally dropped the subject when I asked her to tell me about herself. Apparently she had no secrets whatsoever. She even told me about the sexual position she and her husband had tried out the night before, and said I should try it with Noah. But what she didn’t know, and could never know, was that I was a virgin hooker and really had no say in what Noah and I did in the bedroom … or on the dining room table … or in the limo … or in the bathtub, for that matter. Not that I’d know what the hell I was doing in the first place.

At last lunch had been eaten, the little black strip on the back of Noah’s gold card had been worn down, and the trunk of Polly’s car was almost too full to close. We were on our way back to the Crawford estate and I hadn’t given up one morsel of information, so I was pretty darn proud of myself. I wasn’t sure Polly had actually believed anything I’d told her all day, except maybe the drag queen show tidbit. Honestly, she wasn’t as tough as Noah had led me to believe.

We pulled to a stop in the circular driveway, and Polly stopped the car right in front of the door. She didn’t get out, though. She turned to me and pulled her sunglasses down, looking over the top rim. “I like you, Lanie. I really do. And I can already tell we’re going to be great friends,” she started. “But let’s get something clear. You need to understand that Noah is more than just a boss to me and Mason. He’s our friend, and Lord knows he doesn’t have many of them. He’s been hurt before, and I can’t stand idly by and let something like that happen again. So as long as you’re being good to him, I won’t pry into your personal life.”

I put my hand on her shoulder and gave her a serious look. “You’re a terrible liar, Polly, but I’ll try not to hold it against you.”

Her mouth dropped open as if she was offended, but she knew she’d been called out. Just then Samuel came out to help us with my bags. I gave Polly a wink and got out, leaving her sitting there with her mouth still hanging open.

I thought it was sweet that Polly was so protective of Noah. If only she’d known the truth behind our relationship, she wouldn’t have been so quick to give me the “if you hurt him, I’m going to have to kick your ass” speech. She never actually threatened me outright, but she was most definitely warning me.

“This isn’t over, Lanie!” she called from the car as Samuel and I made our way into the house.

“See you tomorrow, Polly!” I called over my shoulder with a giggle, then disappeared inside the house.

I went up to Noah’s bedroom and started going through the bags. I had no clue where to put my things, but something told me that most of what Polly had picked out wasn’t supposed to be balled up and stuffed in a drawer somewhere. I went to his closet and opened it up. I’d like to say I was shocked by the meticulous way he had everything stored there, but I wasn’t. I saw neat rows of shoes, each pair polished to perfection; his dress shirts were arranged by color, as were the suit pants and jackets, all sheathed in plastic dry cleaner’s bags. But the real kicker was that everything was spaced so that nothing touched anything else.




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