I start to say I don't need shoes, just like I don't need an eleven thousand dollar dress, but Melody grabs my arm to drag me away before I can argue. I stumble, nearly tripping over the bottom of the dress.

"I don't know how the hell you snagged that man, Kissimmee, but you keep him. You hear me? Any man that offers to buy you new shoes to go with your new dress needs to be kept. You don't let him go for anything."

I laugh incredulously. I feel like I'm caught in a whirlwind as I plop down on one of the comfortable chairs, slipping my feet into shoes Melody thrusts at me. She picks out a pair of metallic beige pumps she says look perfect with my dress, and I don't contradict her, or ask how much they cost.

I'm afraid to know.

Naz pays with an American Express card. It's the first time I've ever seen him use anything other than cash. I quietly mention it, not sure if he's even paying me any attention, but his soft laugh tells me he heard. After signing the receipt, everything paid, he turns to me. His eyes flit around the shop, seeing Melody as she checks out the mannequins by the front door, before he speaks. "It's not often I spend so much I don't have the cash on hand to cover it."

"Why do you carry so much cash?" I ask, trying not to dwell on the fact that he spent that much on me. "Aren't you afraid of someone robbing you?"

He lets out a sharp bark of laughter like that's the most absurd thing he's ever heard. "Who's going to rob me, Karissa?"

"Someone," I say, shrugging. "This city's dangerous. There are bad people everywhere here. I mean, maybe it's safe in other places, but not New York City. It's safe for nobody here."

He reaches out and grasps my arm when I try to take a step away, keeping me locked in place. His expression is serious, his eyes once more surveying our surroundings before settling on me again. "Who told you that? Your mother?"

"Yes. She's terrified I'm going to get robbed or raped or killed. She thinks it's bound to happen the longer I stay here."

"Nonsense," he says right away. "This is the safest big city in the country. I'm not saying there aren't bad people out there, because there are. I know there are. But it's nobody I'm afraid of, and I don't want you to be afraid of anyone out there, either."

I don't know what to say, so I merely nod. He grabs our things, the dresses and my shoes, and lugs them to the door with me beside him. Melody begrudgingly follows us out after grabbing our school bags, frowning as she stares back at the windows longingly. "I could live in that place."

"Not me," I say. "One dress and a pair of shoes later, and I already feel like Vivian in Pretty Woman."

"There's no comparison," Naz interjects. "Besides, you haven't seen your necklace yet."

I thought he'd been joking.

I was hoping he was joking.

He'd done enough for me already.

But as I stand in his living room and stare at the large black velvet box in his hand, I realize he meant it. The man bought me jewelry.

I don't know how to react, standing there in the long raspberry colored dress, my knees weak as I try to balance in the pair of the highest high heels. They make me nearly as tall as him, the two of us eye-level for the first time. And in his eyes I see that darkness, the murkiness I discover whenever his mask slips.

It should probably terrify me, but I feel only a slight chill.

At first glance I thought he was dressed normally, but closer inspection tells me differently. He's wearing a three-piece suit, the vest making him look sturdier than ever, the tie just as dark as the rest of it. Glittery cuff links accent his white shirt—diamonds, I think. Something tells me the man wouldn't wear anything fake. His shoes are shined, his suit fitted, and a handkerchief in the breast pocket of his jacket is the same pristine white as his shirt.

He looks like he just stepped off the end of a runway and strutted right toward me. His age shows in the crinkle around his eyes, the shadow of hair on his face that he never seems to fully shave, but he carries it well. He doesn't make me feel as young as I am, or as young as he probably should make me feel. When he looks at me, I don't feel like an eighteen-year-old girl, freshman at NYU, still trying to find her way.

When he looks at me, I feel like a woman, a woman worthy of the look he gives, worthy of his admiration, worthy of a designer gown, and a dinner party, and whatever the hell is in the box in his hand.

He opens it without saying a word. My eyes leave his to look at it. It's simple, relatively speaking, nothing like the one Edward gave to Vivian, but that was a movie and this is real life, and I'm starting to wonder if I will ever deserve any of this.

The necklace is beautiful, the gold chain sparkling under the soft lights. There's a small pendant on the end of it, completely round, a crystal stone surrounded by gold. Something is written along the shiny metal but I can't make it out from where I stand, and I want to step closer, to see what it is, but I can't move.

I'm afraid I'll bust my ass in these heels.

He pulls the necklace out and sets the box aside as he walks around behind me. My hair is already pulled up and pinned—Melody's handiwork—so it's easy for him to slip it on and fasten it. He leans down, kissing the back of my neck, as I grasp the pendant to gaze at it.

Carpe Diem. Seize the Day.

"Why me?" I whisper as he steps back around to pause right in front of me. It's a question I've asked before, but one I just can't understand. Out of all the women in the world, why would he choose me?