"I don't even believe you. You’re always steady and strong. And if I don’t buy that, no one else would."
Belle gazed at a two-floor suite with ceilings that appeared to have been hand painted. She went to one side and saw a balcony and a full view of all of whatever part of Miami she was in. She exhaled and ran to the other side of the suite. Yep. There was a second balcony. The spacious living room could have been made for the President of the United States.
She mumbled to her friend, "It's not important."
Em's voice was perky. "You're a disaster out for fun. You did look like you fell into the ocean. Did he fish you out or send a servant?"
"He was in the ocean already." The dolphin had seemed a private moment. She licked her salty lips. "We went swimming."
"In your dress?"
"Yeah, in my dress. I didn't have a swim suit, and he asked me." There was a baby grand piano near the dining room table. Belle fell onto the couch and covered her eyes. "This is too much. The dress didn't cost nearly this much."
"What happened? What's too much?"
She had landed in Oz. As she peeked through her fingers toward a closet, she gasped. "Peter said he'd take care of getting me a new dress. There are designer clothing boxes everywhere in my room."
She couldn't tell Em about this room too. She'd pinch her.
“What!” Instead her friend sounded wistful as she said, "Where are these jewels? We’re the same size. Before you send any back, save me one."
No she wouldn't. She'd tell her to run. Belle stiffened in her seat and prepped for it. "Not jewels. Dresses."
"I got it the first time. I'm sure there is an extra one for me then. Why are you stressing over clothes?"
"I'm not. It's just strange. I agreed to be Peter Morgan's date to this wedding."
"OMG. The Mr. Peter Morgan? I can’t believe you went out with him of all people. He’s the heir to the American dynasty who owns more money than the United States treasury. You have nothing in common. You’re not out for his money and don’t fit into that lifestyle at all."
“He can keep his money as far as I’m concerned.” Perhaps asking him to stand beside her was slightly too much. She had come here for closure, not to date though Em’s statement about her churned in her gut. She pushed her hair behind her ear.
"Now that sounds like you. You're going on a date with Mr. Monopoly."
“Not exactly.” A chuckle escaped her lips. The image didn't fit. "He doesn't wear a top hat."
"You should ask him too on this big date tonight. Is he hot like he seems in his business profile?"
She leaned her head on the back of the couch. Peter's dimples replayed in her mind along with his warm chocolate eyes.
"He's a womanizing charmer. He gets any woman he wants."
"Including you?"
Maybe. A kiss might not be enough but then it usually was. She shook her head.
"No. I'm just saying he's gorgeous, sexy and charming. He's everything I will never want."
"Sounds like every girl's living nightmare, all right. So you are going out with him...why?"
The sarcasm wasn't lost on her, but Belle had no answer. "I didn't want to be alone tonight, so I asked him."
That hadn't sound so pathetic. She closed her eyes.
"You never ask out a man. You never wanted to date again, and now here you are out with the brother of the woman who stole your fiancé?"
Now that was an angle she should have thought of on her own. Belle opened her eyes as she said, "Where are you and the others, Em?"
"We're on some tour. I am clearly not paying attention to the guide. Wish I was closer so I could come find you."
"We're at the same hotel now, I think. Are you staying at the Biltmore with the other wedding guests?"
"Perfect, he hooked you up with a room so you have your friends."
The penthouse wasn’t so she’d be with friends. "This is far nicer than my last minute plans."
"You deserve the best. Colt and that wedding disaster hurt you. You're beautiful both on the inside and out."
Her heart warmed her chest again. "You're just saying that because I'm your friend."
"I want you to have fun. Don't put your heart on the line to be destroyed again. Just relax and enjoy your date."
She pressed her lips together. "What do you mean?"
"You love deeply and never let go. Colt's ex came back from the dead. Don't let that one thing ruin your future. And if you do let Peter into your bed, remember who and what he is. Try to keep that heart of yours out of it."
Heat now expanded into all her limbs. Em was truly her best friend, though sex with Peter Morgan wasn't something she could discuss. Her face prickled from that thought. "Who is he really, though? There is something else going on."
"I don't know. You met him. You're going out with him tonight."
For one moment, he had her believing in the impossible. A cold shower would cure her. "I did. He's guarded. One woman already wants to scratch my eyes out, but I think he's nice."
"Ignore the jealous girl. He's nice?"
It wasn't hard to believe. "Yeah."
"You're a goner already."
No. This was bad enough. "I don't love easily."
"No, but you do love hard. Try to keep everything simple with this guy. He's not normal. Mr. Monopoly isn't someone you can take home to meet your dad. Your dad likes simple answers and wants you to date a mechanic."
Truer words weren't spoken. "See you soon, Em."
"Bye."
Belle marched up the circular stairs and went toward a bedroom. She found her original suitcase and opened it. She placed her mother's picture on the nightstand as she always did, though she wasn't sure she'd stay.
A knock on the door reverberated in the air. Peter leaning against the door right now would be all she needed to pass out on the floor. Belle clutched the handle then opened it to three women.
As she pressed her lips together, all three charged at her. One held a tape measure and one went for her hair as the other studied her. Belle's legs were restless as tingles grew in her chest.
One of the women said, "You'll need to wash so we can prepare you."
No one prepared her, except her. Her insides practically quivered as she tore herself away from them. "Who are you?"
The same one said, "Hair, makeup and clothes. We're here to ensure you are ready for tonight."
Did Hair, Makeup and Clothes use that as their names? Peter shouldn't pay for all this. Belle wrung her hands.
"I can't do my own hair?"
"Not like Nancy can."
Nancy must be the one that had tugged at her hair a minute ago. The one that spoke must be Clothes as she held the tape measure and said, "Did you pick your dress for tonight? Or was there a different designer you'd prefer we get for you? I need to ensure it's a perfect fit in every way."
The boxes were lined up in the front hall. Perhaps she'd only have to spend some of her savings and might return the others. She let out a breath, though she was still a little dizzy. "I've not looked."
Clothes shook her head. "I've hung everything in your closet."