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***
I’m woken up by a woman standing in my hotel room. It’s another suite, and I decided last night to order room service and enjoy my last taste of freedom before returning to a life I never wanted for myself.
Her black hair is slicked back in a tight bun, and her makeup makes her dark features seem sharp and harsh.
“Hi, Camilla,” I say, completely unsurprised by her appearance. She’s been handling everything behind the scenes so far, and I only met her briefly at the restaurant when I had to sign the NDA. She gives me secret agent-slash-assassin vibes, although James has mentioned that she’s just his assistant. I think he meant that to tell me he wasn’t interested in her romantically, but I’m a little more concerned that she’ll stab someone for looking at me wrong.
“Good morning,” she says, holding up a garment bag and tossing it on the bed. “This is for you. You have to dress well for the event. If the press spots you, every ounce of your appearance will be scrutinized. Hair and makeup will be here in twenty minutes, so I suggest showering, but don’t wash your hair.”
I wipe my hands on my face in an attempt to wake up, the words coming at me at a million miles an hour. “I just wanted to talk to him afterwards,” I mumble.
Camilla shakes her head. “Too bad. If you want me to book you a flight out of here, I need you to stand next to him. This is going to be extremely difficult for James, and he needs all the support he can get.”
She has no idea what she’s talking about. James hasn’t reached out to me since I left him in his penthouse. I glance at my wrist, wearing the tennis bracelet despite how outlandish and overpriced it is. When I pulled it out of its mint-colored box to inspect it late last night, I noticed the tiny shark custom engraved into the clasp, and I couldn’t help but try it on. Even if the gift is ridiculous, he thought to have it customized to my passion for marine life and the rescue we performed together. That’s something, isn’t it?
When I don’t answer, her voice softens. “I know you care for him. Maybe you even love him. Don’t you think that’s worth fighting for?”
I shake my head, but something about her words rings true. How can I love someone I just met, though? Despite my certainty that my feelings aren’t love, I can’t help but think of the way I felt when I first started spending time with James, before I knew he was James Preston. There was something there, and then there was something when we spent two weeks together in the hotel, and when we saw the dolphins swimming in the harbor.
“I’ll talk to him,” I say, my voice hard, “But after that, I’m going home. Even if I have to hitchhike to Tennessee.”
Something glints in Camilla’s eyes, and I don’t even attempt to guess what it is. She’s clearly planning something, but it won’t work. James doesn’t want to be with me enough to talk to me, which makes his proposal meaningless, as well.
I take a quick shower while she waits in the living area of the suite, and when I come out in a robe, there’s a whole team of people waiting. A middle-aged man gasps when he sees my hair up in a towel, and I say, “I didn’t wash it, just rinsed. I figured it would probably have to be damp anyway.” His shoulders sag in relief, and I’m dragged to a makeshift dressing area over by the massive windows that look out onto the Atlantic.
It’s still early, but the memorial starts at noon. I’m not sure how long it will last, but when I glance at the dagger-heeled shoes with red soles waiting for me, I swallow my nerves. Can I stand in those for that long? I tried heels in college, although it’s been a couple years since I last wore them.
While the first man and a woman work on my hair, someone whose gender I can’t determine instructs me to close my eyes as they begin working on my makeup.
I don’t know how celebrities do it. By the time I get to look in a mirror, my body is stiff. When I do look, though, I gasp.
I expected heavy makeup that would make me look like a supermodel with some ridiculous updo, but instead, they’ve given me beachy waves that flow well past my hair’s normal length. The extensions must have been what I felt tugging at me, although I can hardly tell they’re there. My makeup opens my face up, my eyes wide and bright, and my lips are just a shade off my normal look. Somehow, they’ve brought my freckles out to be even more noticeable, and my face has a softer, more approachable look to it than the sharp features I give myself when I do my own makeup.
“So this is what it means when celebrities don’t wear makeup and still look perfect,” I say, laughing breathily as I lean toward the mirror. Instead of covering my face to make me the standard of beauty, they’ve merely enhanced the features I already have. The look is subtle despite how long it took to achieve.
The makeup artist smiles, obviously pleased at my assessment. Before I can thank any of them, they pack up and leave, gone just as quickly as they arrived.
Camilla hands me a bag with some complicated-looking underwear. “This is so the dress fits properly.”
I grimace. Can’t I just wear a dress that already fits? I don’t say anything, though, merely going to the bathroom and putting it on before returning so she can help me into the dress. I’m not sure what I expect, but it’s not the plain black gown with a scoop neckline and long sleeves. When I hold it to inspect it, I realize that the massive line of buttons up the back are the reason she’s still here. I step into it, self-conscious despite having almost full coverage from the shaping underclothes. She buttons me up quickly, then puts the shoes on me like I’m a kid.
“Thanks,” I say. The dress doesn’t have much give to it, and I’d been genuinely worried that I would destroy it trying to bend down and put the shoes on. At the very least, I would definitely fall and hurt myself.
She shrugs. “I’ve known James for a while. Did you know I used to work for his parents?” Before I can answer, she continues, “I was supposed to die in that plane crash. I was going to Dubai with them, but I had to deliver a watch to James as a gift before I went. I didn’t even have time to book myself on the next flight before we heard the news.”
I stare at the floor, unsure of why she’s telling me this.
She sits beside me on the couch, putting a hand on my knee. “I don’t stay at the company because of the pay or the benefits. I stay because James needs me. He doesn’t have anyone, but…” She doesn’t continue, but instead gives me a long, meaningful stare.
I shake my head. “You’re wrong about me. I barely know him, for one. For another, he won’t even talk to me.”
She frowns. “He’s hurting, but I think you should give him another chance. If you talk to him this afternoon and it doesn’t change anything, I’ll send you straight home. I’ll buy you a house for your troubles if you want. But I need you totry.”
My heart skips a beat. She seems so sure of her words, of herself. I wish I could be more like that, but every shred of hope I’ve felt in the past year has been torn away from me. I don’t know how I can believe in myself, or in this whole thing I supposedly have with James.
That surety in her voice, though, is enough to convince me. “Fine,” I say. “I’ll try.”
Chapter Twenty-One
