“This ring is tiny. What size is it?” Marie placed it back on her finger.

“It’s a six,” the lady droned. “It’s the standard stock size.”

“There you go, Taryn. Your next job could be a hand model since all of these would fit you,” Marie teased.

I thought about modeling my middle finger for her.

“How small is her finger?” Marie asked.

The sales lady slid a few metal rings around my finger. “You would wear a five and a half.”

“Are both hands the same size? I heard one hand is always bigger,” Marie stated.

The lady measured my other hand. “They’re the same.”

“Try that one on.” Marie pointed to another ring. The sales lady handed me an opal and emerald disaster.

“You know you’ll have to start working your fingers out more if you’re going to be interviewing for all those hand jobs,” Tammy snorted at her own joke.

“I’m sure Ryan would be happy to help there!” Marie laughed. “Come on, let’s get out of here and go try on some really ugly taffeta dresses now.

We got what we needed.”

“Speaking of dresses…” I muttered and opened my purse to retrieve my cell phone. There was another very important affair which required a very special dress closer than Tammy’s wedding on my calendar.

“I can’t believe you have Kelly Ann Gael’s number and you can just call her to talk about dresses like it’s no big deal,” Marie teased. “Who else do you have in there now? Drew? Gwyneth? Demi?” Marie grabbed for my phone just as her own phone started to ring.

“Hi… Cheryl,” Marie muttered awkwardly. “Hey, can I call you back? I’m out with my friends Taryn and Tammy right now.”

Marie groaned. “Okay, well… um, let me think. How about if I call you at five thirty? Five thirty,” she repeated.

“Gary’s sister,” Marie answered my questioning stare. “She’s being a real pain in the ass lately.”

Chapter 27 - Hollywood

It was still dark outside when Tammy drove me to the airport the following Tuesday morning. My flight out would put me on the West Coast at one o’clock in the afternoon, leaving me plenty of time to be entertained by Kelly. Ryan told me to make sure I packed light, since it was a lot warmer in Los Angeles, and to bring my new Shell-B Enterprises credit card as well to check into the hotel. Ryan wouldn’t be landing at LAX until almost nine o’clock at night on his return from Scotland. It would take him three different flights to reach California.

The sun was bright when I walked through the terminal at LAX. I smiled to myself when I went almost unnoticed by the leeches with cameras. My hunch was correct; there was paparazzi staked out at this airport twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. My reverie quickly faded when I realized that Ryan would have a different fate when he landed tonight. He would be tired and annoyed by the unwanted attention from the paparazzi.

Surely they would not let him go unnoticed.

There were quite a few drivers waiting for arriving passengers near the exit. My eyes quickly scanned the names on the cards that each one of them was holding but I did not see my name. I looked again. Surely I must have missed it the first time. I reread each card looking for Ryan’s name.

That’s when I saw “Bailey” written on a card. Underneath it was Shell-B Enterprises. A smile broke on my face when the driver asked if I was Mrs.

Bailey. Not yet, but maybe one day?

I definitely felt like an outsider in this foreign land called Los Angeles… palm trees and expensive cars were on every street. The hotel where we would be staying was beyond anything I had ever experienced as well. It exuded wealth.

“Good afternoon. I’d like to check in please,” I said to the man behind the marble counter.

“Bailey?” I stated sheepishly, unsure if that was the name of the reservation or not. He typed into his computer.

“Card please,” he requested.

Familiar panic welled in my chest. I had no identification with Bailey on it. I handed him my driver’s license and wondered how long it would take Kelly to drive here and rescue me when this guy kicks me out of the lobby for false impersonation.

He handed it back to me with a smile. “I need your credit card please, for verification,” he corrected.

The key card he handed me in return didn’t unlock just any old hotel room. That wouldn’t be Ryan’s style for treating me well. This room was a huge suite dressed in shades of burgundy and cream with a rich mahogany wooden floor. Elegant wooden doors separated the grand living room from the bedroom, and there were two separate sets of French doors that opened up to the private balcony. The suite even had its own dining room.

I set my bag down on the billowy beige and burgundy striped duvet that covered the king-size canopy bed and sighed out loud. Mr. Christensen would surely be treated like a king in this bed later.

I turned on the light in the bathroom and was surprised to see a plasma television mounted on the wall, in perfect view from the large soaking tub. And then there it was - the final touch – the glass encased shower with the shower panel of many pleasures. I had to give him credit; he was a simple man with simple needs, but when it came to providing luxury, he surely did it right.

Kelly picked me up at the hotel an hour later and proceeded to take me to the swankiest stores in L.A.

“Two things before we go in there,” Kelly announced, parking her car. “One, you’re going to go into sticker shock, so don’t look at the price tags, and two, Ryan said you have a fifty grand credit limit on your card so we have to behave.”

“Fifty thousand?” I felt faint. I reached for the air conditioning dial in her car and turned it up. She laughed at me.

“There’s no way in hell I’m spending…” I had to swallow. My throat felt tight. “I don’t care how much money he has!”

“Relax!” she told me. “We won’t spend all of it.”

“I just need a dress for the party and something nice to wear for our dinner meeting with Mr. Follweiler. That’s it. I even brought my black heels from home.”

She spent the next several hours dressing me like one of her daughter’s Barbie dolls.

“Kelly, four thousand dollars for two dresses?” I whispered nervously in her ear. Apparently these prices were no big deal to anyone living on this side of the country.

“We’re going to take all of this,” Kelly informed the girl behind the counter. She had stacked up the jeans and tops and even the totally sexy black leather ankle boots that I fell in love with. “Oh and the Dior handbag as well.” She piled that on top.