Chapter 91: The Good Boyfriend!

Asher felt utterly drained, as if every ounce of energy had been siphoned from his body. It had only been an hour, and Stella Turner had already whirled through every high-end fashion outlet in sight. She was captivated by anything that caught her eye, trying it on and purchasing it without a second thought. The count had reached over a dozen dresses now, with a total price tag exceeding fifty thousand dollars. Asher found this deeply frustrating.

Though in the grand scheme of things this sum scarcely made a dent in his hefty bank account balance, Asher just couldn’t grasp the rationale behind Stella's shopping frenzy. She hardly wore the dresses she accumulated—more often than not, they ended up forgotten in the closet for months, virtually turning into expensive decor.

"Asher, do you think I look good in this mini?" Stella emerged from the dressing room, blithely ignoring Asher's hesitations, and began to twist and turn in front of the mirror, delighting in her reflection.

Before Asher could articulate a response, a nearby sales associate was already showering Stella with praise: "Miss, that mini looks stunning on you. Your legs are gorgeous, the skin, the shape—it’s like you’re outdoing professional leg models. That dress is just perfect, as if it was tailor-made for you."

"Really?" Stella beamed, spurred on by the compliment, and continued to strike several sultry poses, examining her reflection with growing satisfaction.

"Absolutely. I've been here for years, and I must say, miss, you've got a rare blend of elegance and a perfect figure. If you don't believe me, just ask your husband; he'll tell you, "the sales associate added enthusiastically.

"Asher, what do you think—does it look good on me?" Stella turned her gaze towards Asher expectantly.

"Umm, yeah, looks great..."

What else could Asher say? Stella had made it clear she loved the dress, and he couldn’t exactly call it unattractive. Besides, the sales associate had a point: Stella really did have exquisite legs, and it would be a shame not to showcase them with a mini.

"Pack it up, I'll take it," Stella told the sales associate with excitement, and then directed at Asher, "You go pay for it." Her eyes immediately resumed their search across the racks...

Nearly another hour passed, and Stella finally stepped out of the last boutique, her contentment palpable. Asher's hands were heaped with ten more dresses and several pairs of shorts...

"Stella, really, can you even wear all these? Will you get through them all?" Asher lamented inwardly, his arms weighed down by bags of dresses and shorts. Twenty-one dresses—was Stella planning for a three-year wardrobe? This wasn't just shopping; it felt more like wholesale.

The main concern wasn’t the expense ; Asher wasn't pinching pennies. He just knew that those seemingly glamorous boutique dresses would end up neglected in Stella’s closet—worn only for the brief moment in the fitting room.

"Well, you can always hang them up and admire them. Or are you worried about the cost now? Relax, I'll reimburse you when we get back," Stella Turner said nonchalantly.

"We've been at this for a while, I'm starving."

"You haven't touched the breakfast sandwich I brought for you. It's still in the car. Maybe we can just call it a day; after all, there will be plenty of time for shopping later," Asher replied with casual indifference, thinking that since it was Stella's birthday, they shouldn't spend the entire day trapped in a mall.

"No way, I still need to pick up something important. If I don't get it, I'll have nothing to wear tomorrow. What do you expect me to do, streak across town?" Without waiting for an answer, Stella darted towards the fifth floor of the Harmony Center.

The Harmony Center on Rosewood Avenue was New York's most prestigious high-end shopping district, where each floor glittered with an array of lavish goods. Watching Stella rush off in a flurry, Asher could only smile wryly as he toted a pile of dresses and shorts through the mall, enduring the odd looks from passersby.

Upon reaching the fifth floor, Asher was taken aback by the imposing sign for 'Diana Fens'—a world-renowned lingerie brand steeped in allure and romance. Now it all made sense, the critical item Stella had referred to was intimate apparel.

For any man, venturing into a women's lingerie store could be quite disconcerting. As Asher hesitated at the threshold pondering whether to wait outside, Stella's voice called from within, "Asher, what are you standing around for? Come on in and help me pick something."

He had imagined a birthday outing with Stella would mean a day of leisure and fun. Instead...

With a resigned sigh, Asher stepped into the boutique. Just as he did, a sudden twitch in his eyelid prompted him to scan the crowd behind him. A short figure had casually slipped into a nearby store.

Could it be someone skilled?

Asher's realization hit him with a stir of unease. He had sensed someone shadowing them during their clothes shopping, though no hostile intent was revealed. In the hustle and bustle of the crowd, it was difficult to pinpoint the follower.

After countless hours of relentless training, Asher hadn't reached the innate realm, but his senses had sharpened considerably more than before. A casual glance had been enough to detect the man shadowing him discretely—a man whose strength far surpassed that of any run-of-the-mill thug.

A hitman?

Asher tensed up, his mind racing. Although the man hadn't shown a speck of murderous intent, Asher couldn't shake the fear that his identity might have been compromised by the Parkers.

No matter what, he'd need to lay low for the next couple of days. It wouldn’t do to end up dead, especially considering he hadn't yet experienced the pleasures of a woman's embrace.

"Asher, what are you doing standing at the door? Come help me decide," Stella Turner's voice was tinged with urgency as she saw him linger without entering.

Assuring himself that there were no other suspicious figures around, Asher finally joined Stella. He found her holding up a bra, assessing it from every angle. His face twisted in confusion, "Look, I'm really not the best person to ask about... this sort of attire. If you’re happy with it, that's all that matters, right?"

"What do you mean, 'if I'm happy with it'? You need a man's perspective to truly judge if an outfit is sexy. So, come on, give me your opinion," Stella chided him, raising two bras for comparison, "Which one do you think looks better on me?"

"Uh, they're both nice. With a figure like yours, anything would look great," Asher replied awkwardly.

"Cut the flattery—I know how good I look. Just pick one. I can only choose one, so which is it?" Stella persisted.

"That one then—the black one. It looks nice," Asher pointed out one almost at random, just to put an end to the ordeal.

"Really? Is it that guys have a thing for the contrast of black and white?" she questioned, her skepticism transparent—her heart clearly set on the other choice.

"Uh, maybe. But the other is nice too. You'd look great in either," Asher said, wishing nothing more than to escape the embarrassing situation.

"Go on, you're still buttering me up after I told you not to—though you're not wrong!" Stella huffed, glancing between the two bras and finally putting one back, "Alright, I'll trust your judgment. You are a man after all, so we’ll go with your pick."

Asher was speechless. What did she mean 'you are a man after all'? Of course, he was!

Stella Turner shot Asher a confirming glance before tossing the garments his way and diving back into the endless racks of clothes in the boutique.

Poor Asher could only silently carry the twenty-odd dresses behind Stella. He endured the curious scrutiny of two attendants, whose eyes followed his every move with peculiar interest.

Watching Stella enthusiastically sift through the clothes, occasionally seeking his opinion with a glance, left Asher feeling like he wanted to cry but had no tears. He suddenly remembered a saying: "Life is tough, but being a man is tougher." Yet now, he felt like being Stella Turner's boss was the ultimate challenge; it was almost enough to make him weep.

It wasn't until Stella finally picked a few outfits she liked and strutted into the fitting room that Asher was able to breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness that's over," he muttered under his breath.

Standing awkwardly at the door of the changing rooms, laden with lingerie and skirts, he overheard the whispered exchange between two salesgirls.

"Maria, did you see that guy? He's so sweet, shopping with his girlfriend without a hint of annoyance. He’s totally husband material. I gotta find a guy like that when it's my turn," one salesgirl whispered to her coworker.

"Yeah, I just started dating a guy with a decent job who's pretty nice to me, but he always comes up with excuses or gets impatient when we go shopping. It's just not the same," lamented Salesgirl Maria, her expression clouded with gloom.

"I know, right? Too bad he's taken, or I'd chase him in a heartbeat. A guy that patient and thoughtful is rare to find—a total catch. Working here this long, it's my first time seeing a guy who's so patient with his girlfriend while she's shopping for lingerie. He's one in a million!" the first salesgirl remarked, glancing over at the pile of designer clothes in Asher's hands with a sense of awe.

"Please, like you'd actually chase after him? Dream on. Didn't you see how stunning his girlfriend is? Sure, I've seen plenty of pretty women, but she's gorgeous—and so classy, it makes me jealous. She even outshines the top celebrities on TV. That perfect figure... Although, her attitude could be better. If I had a boyfriend like that, I’d treasure him..."

"Yeah, totally..."

As the salesgirls enthusiastically continued their gossiping, Asher felt a renewed desire to cry, thinking to himself that Stella was not his girlfriend, for heaven's sake.

Asher wished he could find a secluded spot to hide. He was quickly learning that being the subject of praise could be its own kind of torment.