Style (Dressing a Billionaire Book 2): A Romantic Comedy Read Online Free

love Marilyn Monroe. Have you seen Gentleman Prefer Blondes ?”
    Before I could answer, the intro music to the movie started, and Hugo slid down on the bed, then tucked an extra pillow under his head. I liked old movies, but I wasn’t a huge Marilyn fan, more of an Audrey fan, or Vivien Leigh.
    I contemplated jumping off the bed and running to the car. I’d drive home, then call him. We’d meet in the morning and fly to Vegas. But if I left, would there still be a trip? After all, he was filthy rich, and even though he seemed like a nice guy, he was used to giving orders and having them obeyed. Was this a business trip, or pleasure? Or maybe a little of both, if I got lucky. I liked Hugo for some crazy reason. I liked lying next to him on the bed and snuggling in delectable sheets. Why on earth would I contemplate leaving? Why? Because I couldn’t afford to like this. To like this lifestyle that I couldn’t afford. I wasn’t a billionaire; I was an employee to a billionaire. I had to keep reminding myself, it’s a job, I’m not family or friends. Hugo said it already, he wanted someone who wasn’t family, friend, or employee.
    “I’m going to grab my phone, if that’s okay.” I sat up in bed. “I left the house in a hurry and didn’t tell my parents where I was going.” I swiveled and put my feet on the floor.
    Hugo paused the movie. “Okay, I’ll wait until you get back to start the movie.”
    I straightened out my dress and walked across the room, keenly aware of Hugo’s eyes on me. I tried not to be self-conscious. I couldn’t look at him, and I rushed out of the room.
    Outside, the night still held the heat of the day, but a breeze had crept in. I stood on the porch, imagining the garden in the daylight. I breathed in the scent of the greenery and walked along the path to the car.
    I opened the door to see my phone lit up. A text message from Orlean. I swiped and read the message.
    Have you seen TMZ? Are you out of your mind?
    I texted back. What are you talking about?
    Girl, you’re on the front page of TMZ’s website, KISSING Hugo!!! Then there’s another photo of you and Hugo running and HOLDING HANDS!!! What is going on?
    I tapped the Safari icon and pulled up the TMZ website. And there it was. Wow, in the photo they published, that kiss looked passionate. I closed my eyes and felt Hugo’s lips on mine again. Whoa, this was bad. Very bad.
    I looked for my name, “Sources say the woman is a native Texan, Maisy Tucker. Yes, the same Maisy Tucker seen with Hugo’s sister Stella Popovits. Guess she’s keeping it in the family.”
    My face burned with embarrassment.
    “Are you okay?” Hugo stood in the doorway, looking out at me.
    I looked up. The silhouette of his body a shadow against the light behind him.
    “I’m good,” I yelled out the window. “I’ll be right back.”
    Girl, your phone will be blowing up with business!
    I responded, I’ve gotta go. Still with Hugo.
    SWEET!!!
    Whatever! I texted back.
    We’ll have coffee in the morning.
    Can’t. I’m flying to Vegas in the morning.
    WHAT!?!?!
    I left her hanging as I scrolled through my other messages. Apparently everyone I knew stalked the TMZ website. What the hell? Then I smiled. Marla probably watched their pages, too. The more her clients were photographed, the better she looked. Too bad I hadn’t been ready for the paparazzi when I picked Hugo up. I could have dazzled in a better outfit. That would teach me not to be around Hugo or Stella without a sick outfit. I had to learn to be a better socialite tag-along.
    Seventeen missed calls. I didn’t even bother with the messages.
    I dialed my mom’s cell phone.
    “Hello, dear. Thanks for dinner,” she answered with a bit of sass.
    “Sorry, Mom, I was called away on business.”
    “Yes, so I’ve seen. My friends sent me the link to the sleazy photo of you and Hugo. What’s going on Maisy Lynn Tucker?”
    She used my full name. Shit. “It’s not what you think. The kiss