His Sugar Baby

He laughed. Shifting the garment bag that held the jersey gown, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders for a quick hug. “Come on. Shoes next.” As it turned out, it was shoes and fine costume jewelry and a wrap, all to go with the jersey gown.

Cathy gave herself over to the sheer pleasure of shopping. She had forgotten what it was like to buy clothes. It was a relief not to have to look at price tags. She could just choose those things that she liked and that Michael approved for her. She had already gathered that he did not care what anything cost, so it became a pleasure simply to indulge herself in her new persona. She felt an actual physical sensation of something inside of her that had been withered slowly unfurl and come to life again. It was probably her inner shopping diva. No wonder Chloe loves hats. Being a fashionista is in her genes. Somehow the shopping spree made the role-play easier. Putting aside her real self, Cathy stepped into her new life and became Winter.

They had a late lunch together at the food court.

“Would you like to walk around?”

“Sure,” Winter agreed with a smile. It sounded like fun. So they leisurely window shopped, conversing about things they saw and exchanged ideas and opinions, in the process learning something about each other’s tastes. She had become very comfortable in his company. As they passed a toy store, she suddenly saw a teddy bear dressed in a lacy mob cap and a red velvet pinafore lavishly trimmed with white lace. “Oh, Chloe would love that!”

Her hand flew to her mouth. She turned her head sharply, hoping that he hadn’t heard her exclamation.

Michael stopped. He looked down at her contemplatively. For a long, agonizing moment, he said nothing. Then he suggested quietly, “Why don’t you buy it for her? I’ll wait for you here.”

Without a word, she went into the toy store. While she purchased the teddy bear, she gnawed on her stupidity. It worried her that her daughter’s name had escaped her. She didn’t want Michael to know anything about Chloe. She would have preferred that he not even know of her existence. It was safer that way. But she had let the cat out of the bag, big time.

When she returned with the bulging shopping bag dangling from her hand, she asked tersely, “Aren’t you going to ask?”

“We have an agreement, Winter. Your private life and those in it are no concern of mine.” Michael draped his arm loosely over her tense shoulders. “Come on. We haven’t seen everything yet.”

She almost went limp with relief. He was not going to demand an explanation, one which she would have refused to give him. Perhaps he intuitively understood that, and that was why he didn’t press her. No, it was more likely that he didn’t want to do any probing, she thought shrewdly. He didn’t want the drama. Her mood buoyed up. She brightened even more when she rationalized that Michael could as easily have guessed that she had been referring to a niece or a friend’s daughter, instead of to a child of her own.

She felt the light stroke of his fingers on the point of her shoulder.

Winter had noticed that Michael made a habit of putting an arm around her shoulders or casually around her waist. Sometimes, he had laced his fingers with hers as they had walked and talked. There was no suggestiveness about the physical contact. It was just nice. She was glad of the easy camaraderie that had developed and they had shared, especially that it had not been spoiled by her slip. Actually, if she was going to be perfectly honest with herself, she was amazed by how much fun she was having. It was extraordinary. She felt…carefree.

Michael steered her toward another shop. As they entered, she tilted her head back so that she could see the pink-lettered name embossed above the door. Victoria’s Secret. Oh, God.

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