“Yes!” She perks up. “I knew you’d have a great sensibility for things like that. Most people don’t appreciate it.”
After a few more pleasantries, we agree to meet in a couple of hours, since I need to shower and make myself presentable. I swing my feet off the side of the bed and stand up—or try to. My thighs areunbelievablysore, like I spent hours in the gym yesterday.
Still, I don’t have time to sit around. I drop my hands to the mattress to support myself, swing around and, groaning, lever myself up. Once I’m sure I won’t collapse, I text Ares for another driver, then hobble to the bathroom for a quick shower. The hot water seems to help, although I think I’m going to be walking gingerly for the next couple of days.
Back in my room, I throw on a T-shirt and jeans, then go to the kitchen to grab a single-portion Greek yogurt and check my phone.
–My Knight: The driver’s on the way. If you want, I can have him come over every day.
–Me: Thank you. Would you mind? Just until I learn to drive or something.
–My Knight: No prob.
–Me: Also, do you mind if your personal shopper comes by to pick up the things in the living room?
–My Knight: You already went through everything?
–Me: I picked out some items I want, but Akiko is taking me shopping today.
–My Knight: Okay. Whatever makes you happy.
Akiko was right about his not caring about sending them back. I swallow the last bit of the yogurt, then realize I’ve totally interrupted his day. Is it…not meddling and annoying? A wife who keeps busy wouldn’t be texting him during the day to ask about setting up a driver, would she? On the other hand, he didn’t complain, so…
Perhaps this is a trial period or something. But it’s really confusing.
By the time I step out, the same limo from yesterday has pulled into the driveway. The driver opens the door. This time I make sure to get his name off the tag on his uniform: Javier.
I give him the address, and he maneuvers through the SoCal traffic until we reach a discreet square building without a sign or anything over a sleek black exterior. It brims with “if you don’t know what this is, you don’t belong here” energy. Even the double doors are made with smoked glass for privacy.
Feeling a little skeptical and unsure, I step inside. Pale golden marble shines on the floor, and thousands of fairy lights hang like chandeliers from a high ceiling, creating a warm glow that’s inviting, luxurious and fantastical. Small indoor waterfalls gurgle over tiered white stones so smooth they look like well-polished jade. The music isn’t a standard classical tune, but something soothing and likely original, with strings and a piano that remind me of Schubert’sTrout Quintet. On the wall behind the crystal-top counter is an excellent imitation of Monet’s water lilies.
“Lareina!” comes Akiko’s bright voice. She gifts me with a sweet smile that I can’t help but answer with a wide grin of my own. If she was traditional last night, today she’s modern through and through. Her elegant jade dress with an ivory three-quarter sleeve bolero jacket slims her already slender figure. Thenude heels add four inches of height, which she needs, since she’s fairly short. But you’d never think she’s old enough to be Ares’s stepmom from the way her long black hair frames her flawless face just so, cascading down her back in thick waves. It’s possible that Prescott married a very young second wife, but there’s a temperedness about her that says she’s much older than she looks.
Compared to her, I’m barely dressed. Now I wish I’d spent more time selecting my outfit—maybe a dress. And done my hair, too. It’s a bit wild, since I didn’t have the time or energy to blow-dry my own lengthy mane.
“You look so beautiful. I love those colors on you.” If somebody else had said it, it might sound insincere. But Akiko speaks with such conviction and admiration that it feels real.
“So do you. How is it that you look so put together? Were you already ready to go when you called?”
“Oh, not at all. I just had a complete wardrobe to choose from, which you will too after we’re done. Or at least enough of one that you can look and feel beautiful no matter the occasion.”
We walk inside the corridor. I suddenly realize there’s a short Asian woman in an azure jumpsuit following us. Her hair is cropped and spiked, but it looks shockingly good on her angular face.
Akiko notices me looking at the other woman. “That’s Juliette. She’s going to be helping us.”
“Hi,” she says, waving.
“Hi.” I smile.
We sit on a big sofa, and the staff brings out a tray of fresh fruits, baked sweets and tea. Akiko takes a small fork and cuts a section of a pink macaron and tastes it. She does it systematically with everything on the tray, then uses a spoon to sample my tea. “It’s all excellent, my dear.”
A small lump clogs my throat. Although I told Ares and his family about my hang-ups, I didn’t expect Akiko to pre-emptively test everything with such natural grace, as though it’s an everyday thing for her to do. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Factory-sealed food is fine, but it tends to be processed and stripped of nutrition. You must take care of your body and eat fresh fruit. Vegetables, too. If there’s anything else you want to snack on, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
“I will.”
“Catalogue, please.” Akiko’s voice is soft, but there’s a command in it that makes it impossible to ignore. She turns to me. “Is there anything particular you’d like?”
