"What was it?" he asks, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
"He said if I stayed until the start of next semester, he'd buy me a home after I graduate college, too. Wherever I choose. It's not exactly something I can afford to pass up. Not all of us have a trust."
"Well, hell. I'll buy you a home after you graduate. There. Problem solved."
"I already gave him my word. To some people, that means something. You had three days to try and make this right. You didn't want to, and now your father has been too nice to me to screw him over."
"Make it right?" he asks, laughing incredulously. "I didn't bulldoze your house. The frat boys, who I didn't even invite, did it. Why the hell am I being tortured? Because my family has the most money, that's why. You see dollar signs, Cherry. That's it."
"My name isn't Cherry. It's Raya. And no, that's not it. You're an inconsiderate son of a bitch who has never once given a damn about anyone other than yourself and what you want to do."
I hadn't meant to go all crazy-rant-girl on him, but I'm sick of him and everyone like him. Entitled pricks have done nothing but piss me off since I came to California. Sterling Shore, though beautiful, is loaded with nothing but money-hungry people who judge you after two seconds. All they need to know is your parents are nobodies with no money, and then you're blacklisted.
"Tell me how you really feel. Don't hold back on my account, even though you don't know the first damn thing about me," he sardonically mumbles.
I roll my eyes. "I know all I need to."
You're rich, arrogant, and shallow. What more is there to know?
He pulls into a parking lot, squeals to a stop, and hops out before I even get unbuckled. I stare up at the enormous store as I climb out, trying not to let my mouth flap agape. Shit. I didn't realize Mr. Colton was Paul Colton, owner of the most coveted fashion line. I'm way out of my depth here.
I swallow hard, wondering how in the hell I'm going to be able to fit into any of these clothes. I've seen his models on TV. They eat air for breakfast and ice for lunch. There's no way.
Before I got here, I thought a size four was a good size. And then I saw the natives wearing a size negative-triple-zero, or something crazy like that. The girls here look like walking beanpoles. I never had a problem with my curves or my chest until this place. It's amazing that big chests have been popular forever, but the second my breasts fill out, small chests come into style. My luck. Go figure.
I'll bust a seam in anything this store has to offer. Something tells me Kade is going to revel in my humiliation.
When I walk inside, I'm met with a smiling woman with bright eyes. "You must be Raya. Mr. Colton called to tell me you might be stopping by. I've got a wide selection already set up for you," she says, sounding overly eager to impress.
Her eyes slide up and down my body, making me feel uncomfortable. She's probably realizing just how badly these clothes are going to fit.
"I think I can add a few more things that will go well with these," she says, pushing up on my breasts and startling me into a squeal.
"Sorry," she chuckles while moving her hands away
The fever invades my cheeks as I blush, and she walks off. A smug, almost taunting grin is playing on Kade's face when my eyes find him. He's sitting in the corner in one of the recliners, feigning interest in a magazine.
"Not used to being felt up, Raya?" he asks, keeping his eyes on the page before he flips it. "With a shining personality like yours, I would've assumed no one could resist."
I just scowl at him. I'm sick of his snarky remarks. He's going to make my life hell until I move out. Maybe that's his game. I can't let him get to me, because I'm not going to make a deal and then back out.
"Raya?" the woman calls. "You ready?"
I turn away from the ass who's still smirking, and I head to the back to follow the sound of her voice. This store seems endless, but all of the women's stuff is right here in this area.
Her heels clank against the marble floors as she struts toward a large dressing room. There's a couch in it. Really? This dressing room is bigger than my bedroom - the one that was destroyed.
"If you need any help, just call me. I'll go see if I can round up some more items. Mr. Colton said you might need some swimwear, so I've started acquiring some things."
I swallow hard, and then I scratch my side. It draws her attention, and a cringe comes over her face like she thinks I have cooties.
"Sorry. My house was ripped up by a bulldozer and my clothes got insulation on them. That's why I'm here."
She forces a tight smile, still seeming disgusted, and then nods before walking off. Great. Now I'm the dirty girl no one wants to be around.
I pull my shirt over my head, and then screech when a girl walks into the room with me.
"Sorry," she says, not sounding genuinely apologetic at all. Who the hell is this one? "Jessica said you needed swimsuits, so here you go."