They didn’t stop Mo, though. She pawed through the peanuts until our floor looked like snow had fallen and pulled out another shoebox. “Louboutins!”

“What?”

She shoved the red box in my face. “Louboutins! In your size! Oh my God.” She pulled out another box. “Prada! And Jimmy Choo!” She waved her hands in front of her face. “This is total shoe porn!”

I wrinkled my forehead. “What?”

“Look at these!” She opened the Louboutin box and picked up a cotton bag. “May I?”

“Yeah. Sure.” My mind had turned numb. What was going on?

She pulled out a pair of black stiletto pumps. “Gorgeous! And that red sole is to die for!” She threw one to me.

Oddly, I caught it instinctively.

“Try these on. They’ll be amazing on you.”

I regarded the four-inch heel. “They’ll make me six feet tall.”

“So? They’re spectacular.”

I slid my feet out of my slippers and into the Louboutins. They were a little tight, but no more so than any new shoe. I wobbled a little, but I’d get used to the skinny heel. I could walk in anything, thanks to my years as a showgirl.

“Wow,” Mo said. “You already have great legs, but those shoes make them even more amazing!” She continued pawing through the boxes. “There’s at least five grand in shoes here.”

My eyes shot wide. “Five grand?” I gulped.

“At least. Probably closer to ten.”

“Is there a note?” I asked numbly.

“Looks like… Yeah, here it is.” She handed me an envelope.

My fingers trembled as I broke the seal and pulled out a note card.

A few more things for your pretty feet. Enjoy.

Reid

I handed the note to Mo.

“He’s not really a poet, is he?” she said. “Not that it matters with his looks and bucks.”

My jaw dropped to the floor. I couldn’t accept these. Repairing my second-hand shoes was one thing, but this? The man spent ten grand on my feet, which weren’t even pretty, by the way. They were too big, and my little toes were crooked.

“I so wish we wore the same size,” Mo was saying, “so I could borrow all of these.”

I didn’t reply.

“Hello? Earth to Zee?”

I shook my head to clear it and picked up my jaw from the floor. “I’m sending them back. I can’t keep them.”

“Why not?”

“Because…I don’t even know the guy. And he…”

He wants me to tell my story.

That was the truth. Reid Wolfe wanted something from me, and he was trying to buy me.

Problem was? I wasn’t for sale. At any price.

Plus, unlike Mo, I didn’t care much about shoes and clothes. Sure, these shoes were beautiful and I’d love to have them, but even if I could afford them, I wouldn’t buy them for myself. One pair, maybe. But five? No way.