No Strings Attached

Part 7 : No Strings Attached

Kimberley's P.O.V.

Today was the 59th Annual Attorney's Ball, and I was going. No matter what Riccardo Alonso had to say about the way I'd reacted to his gift earlier, I was showing my face. I would prove to that misogynistic b*stard that Kimberley Scott could not be bought.

His life revolved purely around his money, his cars, his mansions, his precious business and I couldn't help but think: What wouldd he do if all of that was taken away? He'd be a shadow, a husk of a man, more so than he already was. Riccardo Alonso was a ruthless lawyer and because of this he had no sign of a heart. There was no doubt he was a billionaire, the company turning over so much money he could use it to wipe his ass, but to show a woman some respect once in a while? That was out of the ordinary, absurd to a man like Riccardo Alonson

I checked my phone to see 23 missed calls from Rick along with 14 messages on my voicemail.  I felt really sorry for him, he was so desperate. He thought because I didn't take the $3,000 from him, I was broke, but he thought wrong. He was the one paying me $8,000 a month - an exorbitant fee for my services.

I had a plan. It was a simple one. I'd hit 5th Avenue and shop until I couldn't carry my bags anymore. Black dress, purse, matching shoes.  I'd go home, get dressed and go to the ball. Simple, really. I would show him.

I was Kimberley Scott. I'd never needed a man. I was my own person, independent, strong, I'd realised that. I'd always believed I was weak, that I could be walked all over, but I would never let that happen to me ever again. There was no way that I would rely on anyone for anything ever again. When you let a man take over your life, that's when it becomes your downfall.

At Macy's I found the perfect dress one shoulder, above-the knee, black. I'd accessorise it with a 10 carat necklace from Tiffany's and a Links of London bracelet with one 'K' charm.

My hair was easy enough to sort out really, even in its wild and curly dark blonde mess. I would just comb it out and leave it natural pinning two strands back with a diamante hair grip. My make-up was high end Bobbi Brown in a light caramel matching my skin tone, then to apply my trademark red lips. No mascara - as natural as possible.

Now my head was full of attorney knowledge and Latin terms to impress important lawyers.  Important lawyers like Riccardo Alonso... 

But as much as Rick was on the brain, it wasn't the only thing I had to think about. I knew as much as the next person that AAC was making me more and more...decorative. Unless I played my cards and asserted myself, there was no way I'd be doing anything other than assisting Riccardo in the courtroom. And that wasn't what I'd passed the Bar to do. I wanted my own cases. My own job.

But the Ball was starting in twenty minutes - it was time to go. I left late because my mother always said: "Kimberley, darling, if you want to make an entrance always be fashionably late. Ten minutes will do."

So I grabbed my Gucci shrug, stepped into my Christian Loubotins and got into the taxi where my companion was waiting.

Tonight was going to be a good night. I could feel it in my bones.