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“I’ll give it a try.”

She puts her hand on the side of her mouth like she’s about to tell me a big secret and whispers, “And we also have some champagne in the back if that’ll help.”

I laugh again, feeling more at ease already. “A glass might be good.”

“Perfect. I’ll have someone fetch it for you.”

I nod, and she makes small talk as we walk to hair and make-up. When we get to the room, she directs me to sit in the chair in front of the mirrors just as another woman walks into the room. She’s a little older than me, and her dark hair is piled on top of her head.

“Hi, Sweetie, I’m Bailey, and don’t let this unkempt hair deter you from trusting me with your beautiful locks.”

I laugh and nod. “All right, I won’t. I’m Ali, nice to meet you.”

“Lovely to meet you, too. Now, has anyone gone over the two concepts we’re working on today?” she asks, and I shake my head. Candace looks up from her phone.

“Oh, my bad. Forgot all about that part. Okay, so look one, we want something down to earth. You know, your best friend, the person you can tell your deepest darkest secrets to. They’re going to dress you in a sweater and jeans, I think, and have you posing on a couch. Super relatable. But it’s still a little sexy.”

“Okay,” I agree, nodding. I can do relatable.

“The second look is a little sexier. You in a pencil skirt and button up shirt posing on or behind a desk. Still try and look like people can tell you their secrets but just do it in a sexy way. Maybe with some glasses, too. Let me text Nando and see what he thinks.”

She starts typing away on her phone, and I’m tired from just being around her. She moves in hyper speed, and I can’t imagine doing that all day.

“Nando likes the glasses,” she says, hopping up from the couch. “Let me go look in wardrobe and see if we’ve got something that’ll work.”

She practically bounces out of the room, and I turn to Bailey as she starts parting my hair. “What if they don’t have any that will work?”

She shrugs. “They get new ones delivered. Nando is a stickler for details, and if it’s in his mind you’re wearing glasses, then he’ll make it happen.”

I try to breathe as she starts on my hair but it’s difficult. This is all so crazy, and it’s hard to imagine a photo of me being up on billboards and all over the Internet soon. I guess I should get used to the idea though. If Mercedes’s plan works, a lot of people will know who I am and read my advice.

I would be so much more comfortable if it was just people reading my words. That, I can handle but people seeing my face and now Mercedes is talking about doing a few appearances if things take off. It’s all so much, and I think she’s getting way ahead of herself. I mean, I’m an advice columnist in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, for Christ’s sake, not some big movie star. Maybe nothing will come of it. Maybe we’ll do all this and no one will really care. Honestly, now that I think about it, I don’t know which one is worse.

“Good news! We’ve got the perfect black rimmed glasses over in wardrobe,” Candace exclaims, bouncing back into the room, and I smile at her. She plops back down on the couch and goes back to texting as Bailey continues on my hair, curling it.

I lean back in my chair and just try to relax as she works on me, and before I know it, Candace is handing me a glass of champagne and guiding me to wardrobe. I down the last of the alcohol just before the woman in wardrobe shoves me behind a partition and hands me a gorgeous white sweater that doesn’t even reach my belly button and a pair of jeans.

“How are your toes?” a woman asks, peeking her head around the partition without waiting for my answer.

“Can we get polish in here?” she yells out into the room, and everyone starts scurrying around, rushing to get me all put together before I have to go out there. Someone comes back with red nail polish and rolls up my jeans as she kneels in front of me and starts painting my toes. Everything happens in a blur, and then I’m being shoved out into the main room where the sets are built side by side with a wall separating them.

“Ah, here she is. I’m Fernando, Gorgeous. So nice to meet you,” the small man who just introduced himself says as he rushes over to me and grabs my hand, leaning down to kiss it. A growl sounds from the back of the warehouse and everyone turns to look as Storm steps out of the shadows.

“Do not kiss her fucking hand,” he snaps, shooting a glare at Fernando, who is still holding my hand in his. He drops it and looks over to me.

“Who is this, love?”

“Uh…” I say, unsure of what to call him.

“Her man,” Storm answers for me, and I turn to look at him with wide eyes, a slow smile stretching across my face.

“We don’t allow boyfriends,” Fernando says, huffing in annoyance, and Storm doesn’t even glance over at him.

“I’m not leaving.”

Fernando throws his hands up in the air and looks around him for some support but no one says anything. Storm is huge, and there is no one in this warehouse who would even dream of taking him on.

“Fine,” Fernando says, doing his best to level an intimidating glare at Storm but he’s not even fazed. “But do not get in the way.”