If I was going to walk around New York until midnight, I had to wear comfy shoes.

My blood-red heels would have to go.

Eyeing up a rack of recently ordered sneakers, I decided on a pair of white ones with rose gold piping—something I would never be allowed to wear as the figurehead of a billion-dollar company.

I’d worn heels every day of my life since I could remember. The only difference was they were lower when I was a child, and now, they were soaring, sharp stilettos.

Taking my new wardrobe into one of the changing rooms, I once again found myself assessing the locks on the doors and the wobble in the mirror from the second-rate glass. No flaws should exist in any aspect of our sales experience.

I made a note to have all the mirrors replaced next time we overhauled this department.

Slipping from my pencil skirt and black blouse, I rolled down my stockings and frowned at my underwear-clad form. The black bra offered support to my generous B-cups, but would the straps look hookerish peeking out from the off-the-shoulder top?

I had no experience dressing like this, even though I’d gone to countless runway shows and hand selected the latest fashions.

Suck it up and stop procrastinating.

Tugging the tight jeans on, I slipped the top over my head and secured the lacy scarf around my throat. I made sure it hung loosely so as not to cover the blue star glittering on my skin.

Ugh, no.

I yanked the scarf off again and draped it over the door.

It wasn’t needed.

I touched the sapphire star. This would kill my father if he knew how unhappy I was after he’d given me everything. I could never explain the emptiness inside when I was so blessed on the outside. And I could never admit that I’d heard him discussing my love life with Steve the other day. Wondering if now was the time to parade me in front of New York’s finest bachelors in order to find a willing right-hand partner to run Belle Elle.

I shuddered as I traded my stilettos for the white sneakers. The thought of giving my life to a company that’d always been there was one thing. The idea of sharing my life with a man who would never understand me was appalling.

A meow sounded, followed by the streak of silver fur as Sage appeared under the changing room door.

I scowled. “What are you doing down here?”

I ought to regret teaching her to jump up and swat the buttons on the elevator. She was like Houdini with her ability to chase me down anywhere in the building, no matter if I’d kept her in my office or taken her to a meeting.

“You know you’re not allowed on the shop floor.”

She flicked her tail and leaped onto the small stool where I’d placed my pencil skirt. She meowed again then licked her paw.

“You also know you can’t come with me tonight, right?”

Her head wrenched up as if I’d uttered some terrible curse.

She spread her claws and licked between them, daring me to say such blasphemy again.

I ignored her display of feline annoyance, pushing her off my uniform. “You heard me, Sage. Don’t pretend otherwise.” Bundling the clothes up, I took one last look in the mirror and decided I looked sufficiently teenagerish. I sure looked nothing like the head honcho of Belle Elle.

“Good.” I nodded, fluffing up my blonde hair that cascaded down my back to my waist. Dad constantly moaned for me to have it cut, but it was my one rebellion. The length wasn’t practical, and most of the time, I just let it air dry into messy waves. The only part of the perfect rule-abiding CEO that was wild.

Heading back to the shop floor, I grabbed a shopping bag from beneath one of the many cashier stations and tucked my expensive clothes inside. Once folded neatly, I tucked the glossy bag into the cupboard beneath the till where manila folders rested with daily tasks and checklists.

Two more things and then I would be ready to go.

I need a coat in case it gets cold and some cash.

I hadn’t brought my handbag down from my office. Not that it would’ve made a difference if I had.

I had no cash. If I needed something, my assistant bought it for me. I only had a credit card for emergencies (not that I’d ever used it), and my I.D badge to access restricted parts of the building.

Sage joined me from the changing room and prowled down the aisle, dragging my attention to a small table with funky purses on display. Seeing as I’d stolen jeans, a top, and a pair of shoes already, I supposed taking a purse wouldn’t matter.

And hell, while I was at it, I might as well take some spending money, seeing as there wouldn’t be anyone to buy me anything tonight.

Using the universal key attached to my lanyard and badge, I unlocked the cash register and looked at the float. There were no big bills, only regimented change ready for a new day of transactions. The rest of the day’s takings would already be counted, bound, and in our vault, ready for a bank run.

No matter.

Three hundred dollars in twenty-dollar bills would be fine.

Taking the wad, I wrote a quick note on a Post-it: Noelle Charlston borrowed $300 in petty cash. Please contact her assistant, Fleur Hemmings, on extension #4456 to reimburse for morning business.

I placed it where the bills had been (so no one would get into trouble for missing money), closed the till, and headed toward the purse display. Selecting one with a graffiti skull on a black background, I tucked the cash inside. The loneliness and strange lostness inside me slowly trickled away, blossoming into fear and excitement.

I flashed the skull wallet at Sage. “See, I can be a rebel if I want to.”

She licked her lips, her whiskers quivering.