Learning to Trust: Paradigm Shift Read Online Free

go on ahead of you. Call me as soon as you arrive and I'll escort you inside—in style. And put on your collar. Be proud of your place in my life."
    I shrugged. "Al l right." No, I still didn't know even know what that meant.
    "The limo will be outside when you are. The trip is very short, I assure you."
    "Okay, ok ay." Sometimes he could be so thorough that it drove me mad.
    He planted a kiss on my cheek as he turned and proceeded out the door until he disappeared. I put on so much make up that I barely recognized myself when I was finished. Having access to an unlimited supply of the nicest stuff sometimes made you go overboard. It was a special occasion , after all.
    Eye-shadowed and with crimson red lipstick, I decided I was ready to head out. I looked like a high-class something or other, I reckoned. Maybe a call girl . I giggled as I thought about it.
    Oh yeah, the collar . Roland would be pissed if I forgot about it.
    I secured it around my neck and took a moment to just stare at the accessory in the mirror . Honestly, it was nice as hell , and every time I whined about wearing it, I inevitably felt bad after the fact. There were a lot of karats of diamonds on that thing. I didn't even want to try to guess how much it cost. All complaints aside, it was an accessory that worked one-hundred percent of the time if your aim was glamorous .
    I headed straight downstairs where I found the car waiting for me, just as Roland promised. I waved at the driver and hopped inside. Although I still didn't know his name, we had gotten quite familiar with each other despite our minimal communication.
    Roland had left a dozen roses and champagne sitting there for me. I pulled the card off.
    For my pet.
    That's all it said. I took a quick whiff of the roses and then pushed them aside to get to the alcohol. I fought to get the bottle opened as we drove, the turns and bumpy roads making it nearly impossible for me to succeed. It finally popped open and champagne shot onto the floor. "Whoops!" I said out loud to myself. I took a big chug of the bottle, tired of trying to be classy. Alcohol was alcohol at this point.
    The trip was short, just as Roland promised. We pulled up to the Starland Event Center, another large structure that Roland happened to own . Yes, there was a red carpet leading into the building. I was disappointed to learn that I wasn't about to be photographed by vicious paparazzi. I called Roland and sat there.
    "One second," he said.
    I took a couple more small swigs of the champagne—it was kicking in fast. My whole body was relaxing at once, the alcohol emboldening me, giving me courage that was normally entirely out of my reach . I laughed at the absurdity of th e situation I was in until t he door swung open.
    "Pet! Do follow me! You can leave your things in the car." His arm found mine and helped me up. I left the champagne sitting on the seat, along with my purse. The door slammed shut behind me.
    "Wow," I said. "Big event, huh?"
    "One of the biggest in the city." He smiled proudly. "I can't wait for everyone to meet you."
    "Please don't abandon me in front of these people," I begged.
    "I promise not to," he said , not sounding all that serious.
    I had a sneaking suspicion that he might not be able to keep his word. I braced myself.
    Our pace was brisk, my shorter legs struggling to keep up with his longer strides . We entered a ballroom, one filled with hundreds of impeccably dressed and presumably rich folks. Their eyes all locked on us at once, the scene not unlike the one that I had imagined earlier. My heart pounded, but the deep breaths I took—and the sedative effect of the alcohol—ensured that I didn't break into a million tiny pieces in front of this crowd.
    "Everyone," Roland cried out boisterously, "this is my date for the evening, the lovely and beautiful Marisa Taylor !"
    The room —including a live jazz band— fell silent aside from Roland's echoing, booming voice.
    "Uh, hi!" I said, making a