I looked over at Brenley, sitting in the passenger seat of my Lamborghini Gallardo with her eyes wide open, taking in the sights out the window.

"Wow. Rodeo Drive," she whispered in awe. "I've seen this in movies but never in a million years did I think I'd get to shop here."

It was cool seeing how she reacted to everything. The way her mouth hung open when she slid into the seat of my Lamborghini for the first time, running her hands over the leather and looking around at how beautiful the interior was. Seeing how she reacted to everything reminded me of how I felt when I first moved out here and everything was so new and exciting. I miss those days sometimes.

Maybe I was wrong when I thought she was really hard to impress. Or maybe she was putting on a show for the camera guy that was currently in the back seat filming us. Maybe this was all an act. She took out her cell phone and snapped a picture of the Rodeo Drive and Beverly Hills signs as we passed them and a few minutes later we pulled up to a row of high-end boutiques on Rodeo Drive.

A car pulled up behind us as we parked and Melissa and Scott got out of her white Mercedes following us inside the store behind the camera man.

"Ok," Melissa said. "You need a long gown for the movie premiere, a short one for the after party that's easy to move around in and a couple cocktail dresses for going out to dinner or a club."

Brenley looked around the store at the racks of dresses and I could tell she was overwhelmed, but I wouldn't be much help. I hated shopping as much as she did.

She picked up the tag of one of the dresses and gasped, shouting "Three thousand dollars?! Are you frickin' kidding me? People really pay that much for one dress? And it's not even cute?!"

"Shhhh. Keep your voice down," Melissa told her, looking around the store with her face flushing with embarrassment. "She's just teasing," she told the store clerks, laughing awkwardly and they gave Brenley a dirty look. Luckily the camera guy caught that whole conversation and the look.

It took every bit of self control I had to hold in my laugh. I personally thought $3,000 for an ugly dress was ridiculous too but Melissa would shoot me daggers with her eyes if I said so right now.

"If we buy five dresses that's fifteen thousand dollars!" Brenley said with wide eyes. "Can you return these when I'm done wearing them? I'll never wear these dresses again so spending that much seems like a huge waste of money."

"No you can't return them but don't worry. Fifteen thousand dollars is nothing for Dylan. It's a drop in the bucket," Melissa encouraged but I could see Brenley looking at me like she wanted me to save her from this ridiculousness.

"She's right. It's nothing. Don't even look at the prices. Just pick out what you want," I told her but she still didn't seem convinced.

For the next hour I sat there on the stiff leather sofa scrolling through my phone while Melissa and the store clerks helped her pick out dresses and try things on and the camera crew filmed her reactions. It seemed like an endless pile of sparkly sequins and tulle that she needed to try on.

Brenley was 5'6 and thin, with a small bust and a slight curve to her hips. Her pale skin looked like it had never seen the sun so Melissa told her some of the light dress colors made her look washed out. A couple times I caught my head hanging low and my eyes closing but I sucked in air and woke up with a start, looking around and realizing I was still here.

At some point I did completely fall asleep because I felt a shake on my shoulder and Melissa said, "C'mon Dylan. It's time to pay."

I rubbed my eyes and blinked as the store came into focus and I walked up to the counter, swiping my Amex black card. I noticed the bill was only $6,000 when they gave me a receipt.

"Why was it only $6,000?" I asked Melissa.

"Well she found the sales rack way in the back with the discount dresses. They actually looked great on her so she insisted. I promise you I wouldn't have let her buy them if they were going to embarrass you."

"I trust you. I'm sure they're fine. Let's just get out of here," I said with a sigh as three attendants followed us out carrying the large dress, shoes, purse and accessories boxes piled high in their arms.

The camera crew said their goodbyes and drove away in a white van.

"My Lamborghini has no trunk space so you'll have to take all the boxes back to the house in your car Melissa. Thanks."

She nodded and gave Brenley a hug and smile before walking away.

'She's gotten to her too,' I thought, remembering how she won over Rita at breakfast. What was it with this woman?

"Are you hungry yet? We have reservations at my favorite restaurant," I told her, sliding into the driver's side and slipping on my sunglasses. That's when I noticed the paparazzi on the sidewalk taking pictures of us. I looked over and saw Brenley staring at them.

"Oh don't worry about them. They're harmless," I said, starting up the engine and pulling out onto the street. The camera flashes and shouts as we passed them by seemed to really bother her and I wondered why.

"It's no big deal. It's just some pictures," I looked over and told her but she didn't seem convinced. I looked up in the rearview mirror and saw a paparazzi van following behind us.

"They're following us. Do you want me to lose them?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Okay. I can do that," I said, sliding my sunglasses down my nose and giving her a wink before pushing them back up. I shifted downward, hearing the growl of the engine as I sped down the road and onto the interstate where I weaved between cars and pretty soon the paparazzi van was far behind us.

"We lost 'em," I said proudly.

I was expecting some kind of gratitude or a smile or something but there was nothing. She just sat there looking out the window in silence. My flirty wink didn't even seem to have an effect on her and that always worked. Then I remembered my conversation with Melissa and Scott. I wasn't supposed to be seducing her. I was supposed to be building up a friendship so I was kicking myself for being an idiot.

As I turned onto the street where the restaurant was I spotted the flash of the paparazzi lining the sidewalk waiting for us. I had no doubts Melissa or my P.R. guy called ahead and let them know where we'd be eating so it would be all over the tabloids. I'm sure the headlines will say something like 'Dylan Chase spotted out on the town with a new mystery woman' and every website and magazine would be scrambling to figure out who she is first so they can break the story. That would be great publicity for the new movie.

I pulled up to the Chateau Marmont, one of my favorite places to eat because they had strict rules, no phones or cameras. People wouldn't be allowed to ask for autographs or take our picture or film us while we ate. We could actually have some privacy.

I opened my door, slipping the valet the keys and went to walk around the side of the car and was surprised to see Brenley had already opened her door and gotten out. I was used to opening the door for my dates but apparently she wasn't used to that.

I walked fast to catch up with her, slipping my arm into hers and escorting her inside through the crowd of shouting paps and flashes going off in our faces. I was used to it. This always happened just about any time I left the house and they tracked me down.

We were immediately shown to a table in front of a fireplace and given menus and Brenley told them thank you with a smile. The waiter stood over us and asked what we wanted. I skimmed over the menu and then looked up and watched her, staring at the menu in deep concentration, scrunching her eyebrows.

"What?" I asked, holding in a laugh.

She raised an eyebrow and asked, "What is bullwhip kelp butter? Or Manchego, marstada, labneh, burrata? I don't even know what most of this stuff is," she said, sounding overwhelmed.

"I'll make it easy for you. Do you like steak?" I asked.

She laughed. "Well yeah. Doesn't everybody?"

"No. You'd be surprised. There's a lot of vegans here in California. But since you like steak you should order the New York Steak Frites. It's just steak and fries, but trust me. It's amazing."

"Ok. I'll take that," she said, folding up her menu and letting out an exhale. "I don't even know a single vegan," she said under her breath just loud enough for me to hear it.

"We'll both take an order of Steak & Frites and we'd like a bottle of your best red wine," I told the waiter, handing him our menus.

"That bottle is $3,150 sir."

"Yes, that's fine. We'll take that," I nodded and he walked away.

As we waited for our food I noticed she looked a little down.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She looked across the table and said, "I really don't want to sound ungrateful. You and your people have gone through a lot of trouble for me already and any other woman would be ecstatic over all of this."

"But?" I asked.

"But," she said taking a deep breath in and letting it out. "I'm homesick."

"Homesick? Already? It's only your second day here," I laughed. "Didn't you have fun today ........ shopping on Rodeo Drive and now we're here eating at the Chateau Marmont where lots of celebrities go to eat?"

She looked down, lifting her glass of water to her lips and taking a drink before looking up into my eyes.

"L.A. is just so different. It's like a different world. Three thousand dollar bottles of wine and five thousand dollar dresses, Lamborghinis and mansions and menus I can't understand, traffic jams and paparazzi and cameras recording me," she took a deep breath in and let it out before adding, "People that look down their nose at me and think they're better than I am," she said quietly with a sad tone to her voice.

"Who thought they were better than you?" I asked.

"The clerks and shoppers at the store earlier. They were making fun of me for looking at the sale dresses when they thought I couldn't hear them. I felt so stupid."

Hearing that made me feel protective and angry.

"I can't believe they would treat my guest that way. Why don't we go back to the store and tell them they can shove their dresses up their ass?"

"No that would just make me feel worse. Just forget about it. Please. I shouldn't have even mentioned it," she sighed, resting her head on her chin.

Seeing Brenley this way made me feel bad because Melissa said I was in charge of giving her the best week of her life and right now she looked absolutely miserable. I had to figure out a way to turn this around.