Can't Buy Me Love. HEATHER MACALLISTER
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Название: Can't Buy Me Love
Автор: HEATHER MACALLISTER
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474018609
isbn:
“What’s going on?” Alexis wondered aloud. Was this like celebrating a birthday at a restaurant and having all the waiters sing? Brides at the Inn at Maiden Falls get a send-off party from costumed maids?
“Yes, yes. She has done well for herself.” A throaty voice boomed from behind a desk that Alexis swore hadn’t been there moments before.
A woman with green-tinged skin, black eyebrows and yellow pin-curled hair sat behind the desk. She was only green-tinged because of the light from the green Tiffany-style torch lamp.
The girls quieted.
“I am Miss Arlotta,” she announced. “You may approach.”
Okay, so she was like a really exclusive wedding coordinator. Alexis decided to play along with whatever skit they were acting out and walked over to the desk. Up close, Miss Arlotta looked straight out of the Madams ’R’ Us catalog.
Sunshine appeared at her side. “Miss Arlotta, Alexis has been offered a contract for marriage that pays her one—hundred—thousand—dollars a year.”
More clapping erupted.
“In gold?” Miss Arlotta asked. She looked at Alexis. “Always make sure it’s in gold.”
Gold. Alexis just stopped herself from laughing. “That’s good advice,” she said, playing her role…of what, she didn’t exactly know.
“And that’s not all!” Sunshine clapped her hands together and gave a little jump. “She also gets the money she would have made if she’d been working.”
Madam Arlotta sat back. “Well, now that is impressive.”
“Maybe not so impressive.” Alexis was being eyed by a sour-faced woman who plucked at the ties around her corseted waist. “Depends on how much she made.”
“I’m very good at what I do,” Alexis said.
The woman sniffed. “Hidden talents. Tricks. They always pay more for pervers—”
“Flo.” The woman immediately went silent. “Alexis is our guest.” Miss Arlotta stood and Alexis could see she was small for a woman with such a big voice. “We want you to know that though years and circumstances separate us, we celebrate what one of our own has accomplished for working women everywhere.”
“I—thank you.” This was just too weird.
“My Got. She vas showered viz more riches zan a royal courtesan.”
“I thought you were a royal courtesan, Countess,” Sunshine said.
“Zat is how I know zis.” The woman shrugged the silk robe over her shoulders. “I consider you my equal.”
Her equal? “And you were a courtesan?”
The Countess inclined her head. “Zat is so.”
“Like…a mistress.”
“Yes.”
The skit wasn’t as fun as it had been. “I’m not going to be a mistress. I’m getting married.”
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