Scandal

Chapter 8-1

Chapter 8

I was still on a high from my trip to Paris with Sol. He had taken me shopping for couture the day after the gala, and being out in the shopping district was truly magical for a girl like me. Everything was breathtaking and so high fashion.

I used my bonus to acquire some pretty fabulous clothes for work and play. They were beautiful and special, and I would always treasure them as part of a great experience. How many women get to travel to Paris for work and shop in one of the most famous fashion districts in the world? Not many, that's for sure, and I was the lucky one who got to be escorted all over town by Sol.

I had taken my first day off since our return from Paris, and I wouldn't be returning to work until the following morning. But I had a plan, a really good one in fact. Something that was going to make Sol think twice about me.

The one thing I hadn’t been able to get out of my head since Paris was his dirty dare. He had completely taken me off guard when he had done that. I still couldn't figure out what his strategy was. We had definitely been getting along better, but we were hardly in a place where we could throw things like that at each other. I, however, was thinking about changing that.

Things had been so different between us—but in a really good way. I hadn't expected him to come to my rescue at the gala, and I definitely hadn’t expected that all I would be thinking about was how much I wished I had gone as his date. I assumed he felt the same way since he’d ditched his own party to go for a midnight stroll with me.

The more I got to know Sol, the better I felt about him. There was no doubt about it, he was an arrogant man and a real pain in the ass at times, but I was starting to see him in layers. There was more to him than meets the eye—it was just a matter of peeling away the layers like you would on an onion. I was starting to see a side to him that I hadn't realized a man like Sol could have. Or maybe I wasn't being fair. Considering the environment in which he’d been raised and the kind of people he was surrounded with, it was no wonder that arrogance had crept in. He had been in competition for a greater part of his life. He’d had to constantly prove that he was the best, especially in business and in regards to his dad. My mother had always let me go my own way, mainly because she knew it was pointless to try to raise me to be a socialite. That was something she had always aspired to, but it was not for me. Still, regardless of whether she let me go my own way or not, I always felt that whatever I did was never good enough because it wasn't what she wanted for me. I’d thought that was a heavy load until I got a taste of Roger. I couldn't imagine being Sol and having that kind of daily pressure to seek out perfection, feeling like you were walking on eggshells all the time. But that was Sol's world, he lived it every day. So could I really blame him for his arrogance and his supreme confidence in everything he did, including picking up women? No, I couldn’t. It was just who he had been raised to be. And it was also only the surface—there was so much more to him underneath it all.

It was that part of him that I was starting to see and like. He seemed very protective of me, and seeing him open up in Paris was part of what made me turn a corner where he was concerned.

I was determined to win that dirty dare he had given me, and I knew just who could help make it happen. Rose. It was going to take me completely out of my comfort zone, but wasn't that exactly what Sol had intended it to do? I absolutely felt like he had a master plan in mind that I knew nothing about. It didn't matter, though, because I was not going to lose the bet—I was going to see what it was like for shy little me to step out of her shell and try something new. Besides, it wasn't as if anyone would know. My parents wouldn't know, and my job was secured. All I had to do was give Sol proof, but I planned on doing one better.

I put in a call to my best friend and waited impatiently until she picked up the phone.

“Well, well . . . how was your European vacation?”

“It was hardly a vacation, though I have to show you these insane clothes I got while there. Sol gave me a bonus, and we went shopping. It was amazing.”

“Now was that the only bonus he gave you?”

I started laughing. “Yes, it was. You know I'm not that kind of girl. I like to make my men wait as long as possible.”

“Do I need to remind you about the bathroom?”

I groaned, “Please don't. That was part of a mental breakdown or something.”

She chuckled. “I'm sure. But anyway, you have to tell me everything. Despite it being work, you must have had a blast.”

“It really was great, no complaints. Even with work, it was all pretty glamorous.”

“Well, get used to it, Sasha. That world is about to become your own.”

“I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I guess it's something I’ll have to accept since my mother decided to marry into it all. Not much I can do about it now, I suppose.”

“No, I'm afraid you're in it for life. Even if they get divorced, your mother will have the money and her society friends.”

“You're starting to depress me.”

She laughed. “Wait, did you say you like to make them wait? Does that mean you're thinking of getting together with Sol? I thought you were against that whole idea?”

“I was. Well, I am. I'm not really sure what’s going through my head at the moment, but since I’ve been working with him, things have changed. He's changed. Or maybe I just wasn't willing to see beyond the arrogant rich boy routine. I don't know, but something is definitely there.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“To be honest, I'm not sure there’s anything I can do. Roger made it perfectly clear that I’d be fired if anything happened between us. So if we start something up, I'm out of a job, which I'm sure will go over really well at Christmas dinner.”

“Do you think he’d really fire you? You're family after all. I know he fired those other two, but seriously, he's going to have to explain that to your mother, and she's not exactly a passive creature. She’d be pissed.”

“Yeah, I'm not sure how well it would go over, but I have to take the fact that I’d be out of a job into consideration.”

“Ahh, who cares? Sol is a billionaire—he’ll take care of you.”

“Geez, Rose, it's not like we're engaged. I could throw everything away for this guy and then end up on my own with no job. Does that sound appealing?”

“So if you get fired, I'm sure at the very least Sol would have you working at another company by the afternoon.”

“Maybe.”

“So go for it, girl! You only live once, and he's hot and rich.”

“You're a really big help. But I did want to talk to you about something. The last night I was with Sol, he gave me a dirty dare. He wants me to complete it so that I get out of my shell, so to speak.”

“What's a dirty dare?”

I explained to her what had happened outside of the burlesque club and how I refused to go inside. She started laughing as soon as I explained the dare and how at first I had declined—but then things had changed.

“Stop laughing. I had no intention of doing anything, but then he called me a chicken, and I actually felt like one.”

“I'm sure you did. He deliberately got you riled up, and you fell for it. That boy has something up his sleeve for sure. He's got something s****l in mind for you, otherwise he wouldn't have started you thinking about s*x. He definitely wants in your pants, girl, so make sure they’re double-buttoned.”

“Stop it,” I said, laughing. “You're killing me here.”

“I know, but times are tough, and I know you well enough to know that you haven't been laid in a while. You might want to take this opportunity to sweep out those cobwebs.”

“Oh my god, you didn't just say that to me.”

“I did. Now let’s get down to business. What's your game plan here?”

“Well, I know for a fact I have no intention of doing a burlesque act or signing up for a class. Not yet anyway.”

“So that leaves an outfit. That should be easy enough—we watched the movie Burlesque with Cher, and we know all about the Pussycat Dolls. It’ll be a slam dunk.”

“Will you help me shop?”

“Of course I will. This will be awesome fun. Let's do it. Come pick me up in an hour.”

“Okay, but one other thing—I don’t want to just send him a picture.”

“Go on . . .”

Spilling the beans about my dirty little plan was exciting and made me feel alive for the first time in . . . well, in forever. She helped me the plan the particulars, and I headed out the door to do some dirty shopping.

*