Chapter 30 In the Dressing Room Selene's POV WhenAaron slid into the car, his lips pressed into a thin line, his frustration clear on his face. "How did you end up here?" I asked, reaching out to trace small circles on his hand, hoping to calm the storm within him. "I just dropped a client off at the airport," he replied, running a hand through his hair. "Good thing I did. Who knows what that old fool would have done to you if I wasn't around." "It's fine. At least his car got taken out by this 'green monster,"" I joked, making a slashing motion across my throat, then grinned sheepishly. "Tell me, how many people begged you to let them drive your Aston Martin? Or were they too busy drooling to even ask?" He let out a light laugh, the tension easing from his jaw. "Well, one guy actually asked if I was shooting a car commercial, and a lady tried to tip me with a designer bag. I think I've set the bar for all Uber drivers pretty high." I put on a mock-serious expression. "Be careful, or everyone will be fighting to book your rides!" He took my hand and kissed it lightly. "I'll catch up to you first. Always first-class service, just for you." Damn. He always made my heart race so easily. "Where are you going? Let me take you," he offered. "To buy some work clothes. Thompson Publishing has a dress code." His eyes lit up. "Tight skirts and low-cut shirts? I'm coming with you!" The car sped up as if his excitement was driving it. He took me to a boutique that reeked of wealth. The kind of place that made my wallet nervous. Sensing my hesitation, Aaron assured me that he had just received a generous tip and encouraged me to pick out whatever I wanted. With the help of a salesperson, I picked out some fitted tops, skirts, and heels. The first outfit was a white V-neck blouse and a navy pencil skirt that ended mid-thigh. It hugged my curves perfectly. I smiled at my reflection in the mirror, feeling satisfied-professional yet elegant. Aaron was lounging on a nearby sofa, flipping through a magazine. As soon as I stepped out of the fitting room, his eyes locked on me, filled with something intense enough to make my cheeks flush. Two seconds later, he tossed the magazine aside, walked over in a few strides, and threw his jacket around my waist as if exposing my legs to the world was a crime. "Too short!" he declared, his eyes flashing to a male customer and a female sales assistant with a protective look. "Aaron..." I protested, but it was useless. He scooped me up, carrying me back into the fitting room, slamming the door behind us. 13:17