One Wish

Chapter 11

"Thanks, Natalie. All in a day's work." She picks up a few things and starts packing. "You've timed your entrance perfectly. I'm all about done here."

She gets the rest of her things, kisses who I now know is Natalie on the cheek, and then exits without having said another word to me.

"Wow, she is not very nice, that girl," I utter almost under my breath. Although Natalie certainly hears me.

"Can you blame her, after breaking up her relationship with her fiancé of five years? You didn't even like her fiancé, you just thought of him as 'a challenge.'"

Burying my head in my hands, I groan out loud. No wonder she was so nasty to me. I deserved every single bit of hatred she gave me. However, it still doesn't stop this growing feeling that this is not something I would do. I would never want to hurt anyone. I couldn't even harm an ant.

"Don't cover your face, girl, you'll smudge your makeup. Paris is going to come in and style your hair shortly. She's running a little late. Apparently there's been an accident on the freeway and there's tailbacks." She smiles before looking at the table in front of me. "Where's the champagne? You always have champagne."

My eyes flit towards the table. "I decided I'm going teetotal for awhile."

Her laughter shocks me so much, I nearly jump out of my skin. "You going teetotal is the most hilarious joke you've ever made. It's like Ted Bundy saying that he wants to give up severing heads."

I narrow my eyes at her preposterous analogy. But, then again, judging by our little phone exchange, this is the sort of woman she is. Beautiful, but rather... dark humored.

"Some people can change," I retort, finally noticing myself in the mirror. Wow, I look... stunning. Joyce has managed to pull off the sexiest smoky-eyed detail I have ever seen. My cheekbones look like they could snap a knife in two, and my green eyes—eyes that seem completely alien tome—are twinkling in the overhead lights.

"Never Ted Bundy."

Okay, now she's being cute with me. It's strange, thinking about it. Lots of people naturally—and sometimes quite rightly—hate me, but this woman doesn't seem like she holds any ounce of hatred inside of her. It makes me wonder how she feels about me.

"Look at that face," she suddenly says, cupping the air around my cheeks, I'm guessing so she doesn't smudge my makeup. "You're going to knock their socks off, as always."

"Why don't you hate me?" I ask, intrigued by her.

She laughs out loud again. "Honey, I think we need to get you something bubbly to drink. You're not making any sense."

"No, seriously. I want to know. Everyone seems to either dislike me, putup with me, or just downright hate me." Well, other than Eleanor, of course."But I'm getting nothing from you."

She suddenly grabs my arm, fake pouting as she fixes me with her stare. "Babes, I will always love you because you make me a shit ton of money." She then taps my arm. "Now, stop feeling sorry for yourself and go pick out some swimwear. They're already hanging in your wardrobe. In the meantime," she continues, holding up her phone and walking towards the door. "I'll go see where Paris is."

I watch her as she swaggers towards the door, barking into her phone, asking Paris if the accident has rendered her unable to use her legs. I wince at that, feeling sorry for poor Paris.

When the door slams, making me jump, I sigh before getting up to glance through the wardrobe. My eyes bug out of my head when they land on the collection—or lack thereof—of materials that are hanging up. I pickup a gold bikini set where the boob part would barely cover my nipples and the thong part is... well, a piece of string. I shudder, placing it back on the hanger, and try to find something that will at least cover the vital parts. No one-piece swimsuits, unfortunately, but there is at least a lime green Brazilian bikini thong set that will offer some sort of cover. I shut my eyes, groaning that there's nothing better than this lime get up. The color is actually lovely, but I will still have a part of my butt cheeks showing.