Fast & Loose by Elizabeth Bevarly (the giving tree read aloud .txt) 📕

stayed only as long as it took to say hello to everyone so they would remember she’d been there when the host or hostess asked where she was, then left early to go home. She wasn’t comfortable in crowds.

Then again, if he paid her enough, she wouldn’t have to worry about finishing her last few pieces on time for the show…

She told herself if he offered her as much as it would cost to put a new roof on her house, she’d take him up on it. The reason she’d agreed to Eddie’s request to rent her house out for Derby in the first place was because she’d sunk so much more into refurbishing the place than she’d originally planned, and she’d needed to recoup some of it. The money she would make from the rental was going to pretty much do that, but she still needed a new roof, and that was going to run her another three thousand dollars. She couldn’t believe Cole Early would pay that much for someone to go out with him a few times, even if he could afford it—and then some. But she couldn’t deny that she was curious about what he might potentially offer.

He looked as surprised at hearing the question as she’d been to voice it. “Are you serious?” he asked, sounding almost hopeful.

She hesitated. Weird, but she actually was. “Maybe. Depends on how much you’re willing to pay.”

He hesitated, too, and she could tell he was going to low-ball her. “A hundred dollars.”

She laughed out loud. “Don’t you think you’ve insulted me enough for one night?”

He had the decency to look contrite. “Okay. A hundred dollars per function.”

“How many functions?”

“I have something going on almost every night this week. And then there’s the Derby itself.”

She shook her head. “Not worth it.”

“Oh, come on,” he said. “There are a lot of women who would jump at the chance to go to some of the things I’m going to need a date for.”

This time Lulu nodded. “Yes, there are. But they’re the ones you’re trying to avoid, remember? Gorgeous, built, hot women are a dime a dozen. If you want plain, graceless, and ordinary, it’s gonna cost you.”

She thought he was going to argue with her over the price, but what he said, very softly, was, “You’re not plain, graceless, or ordinary, Lulu.” And then, before she could respond, he said, “Name your price.”

Her heart was hammering hard in her chest, but she told herself it was because she was about to get a new roof for her house, not because of the way he’d told her she wasn’t any of the things she’d always felt like she was. “Three thousand dollars,” she told him.

He hesitated not at all this time. “Done.”

Fifteen

LULU REALIZED THERE WAS A SLIGHT PROBLEM with agreeing to Cole’s offer of employment less than twenty-four hours after conceding to it. In fact, she’d realized there was a problem within minutes of agreeing to it, but it was only now, as she stood in Bree’s bedroom looking at the clothes she’d brought with her from home, that it wasn’t actually a slight problem. It was, in fact, a great, hulking, gargantuan problem that was roughly the size of Canada. He’d told her as they’d parted ways last night that most of the events for which he’d need her to join him this week would require the sort of attire Lulu hadn’t brought with her. More to the point, it was the sort of attire she didn’t even own. Which meant one thing.

She was going to have to borrow something to wear from Bree.

Hence the great, hulking, gargantuan problem—even though the two of them wore the same size, and even though Bree had a number of cocktail dresses she’d collected over the years, due in large part to her frequenting events where she trawled for rich men. But because she was always trawling for rich men, Bree’s dresses were all brief, snug, and low-cut, in colors bright enough to blind, and a lot of them had sequins, beads, and God knew what else sewn on them to make them sparkle even more.

And, okay, so Lulu liked bright colors and sparkly things. She used lots of both when she made her glass—then mixed them together to make even more colors and sparkles—and she gravitated toward them whenever she shopped for clothes. And on those occasions when Bree dragged her into Sephora or Ulta, Lulu couldn’t help admiring the pots, compacts, and cylinders filled with glittery shadows, powders, and glosses, and she could never quite resist buying a couple for herself. Of course, then she got the clothes and cosmetics home and realized she’d never be able to muster the nerve to wear them for fear that they might draw attention to her. So all of them hung or sat neglected in her closets while she donned her trusty jeans and T-shirt and went out barefaced to greet the world, never drawing a single eye.

That was beside the point.

The point was she needed something to wear to the Trainers’ Reception tonight. And since Cole had said the invitation read Formal, which she was reasonably certain translated into Not the Ratty Stuff Lulu Flannery Usually Wears that She Bought on Sale at Value City Like Ten Years Ago, she didn’t think her Levi’s and Timberlands were going to cut it, even if they were—sort of—designer names.

“This one will look fab on you,” Bree was saying as she pulled a fourth dress out of her closet after Lulu nixed the first three.

“Redheads aren’t supposed to wear red,” Lulu said. Which was actually her very diplomatic way of saying, But, Bree, you always look like a ’ho in that dress.

“Oh, please,” Bree retorted. “That just goes to show how little you know about fashion.”

Lulu nodded. “And your point is?”

Bree made a face at her. “That rule is so five years ago. Redheads