Brad’s frown deepened.
My heart skipped a beat as I suddenly remembered the message Anne sent last night. What did she call Brad again?
Darling?
As the reigning champion of stand-ins, I thought her choice of words might be worth borrowing.
I took a deep breath, letting the words roll around in my mouth before speaking. “B-Brad… darling?”
Thank heavens, his brow smoothed out.
So this is what Brad likes?
“The day after tomorrow at 8 PM, dress up nicely. You’re coming with me to a dinner party,” Brad said, his tone laced with authority.
I was startled. This wasn’t how things went in my past life.
8 PM? What a coincidence.
Thinking about Brad’s sour mood all morning, it clicked. My Oscar-worthy performance must have set off Anne’s alarm bells. She must have ratted me out to Brad.
Crap.
Seeing me clam up, Brad spoke again. “$50,000 has been wired to your account.”
I nearly teared up at the power of cold, hard cash. My anger toward Anne melted away.
“Brad, darling~ What kind of dress do you like? Off-shoulder? Crop top? Long or short? Any color preference?”
This time, I was determined to make Brad feel right at home with my service!
—
I knew Brad wouldn’t parade me around in public.
The parties Brad attended were always high-class affairs.
He probably just found out about my planned escape that day and wanted to keep me under his watchful eye.
