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“Fine!” I finally screech, knowing she’ll keep going until the end of time if I don’t agree. “You’re right. The meeting is excellent. Freaking awesome. My favorite agenda item of the day.”
“I don’t need your attitude,” she scolds me boldly. It’s inappropriate and kind of ridiculous given the fact that I’m a grown woman, but Heidi has been with me from the moment my momager stepped back. I was still pretty much a kid at that point, and in some ways, Heidi continues to treat me that way.
And I guess, sometimes, I continue to act like I am one around her, too. Honestly, I don’t know why. Our relationship is complex and twisted and probably in need of change. But I’m too busy to fit an overhaul into my schedule.
Finally, we pull up to the entrance of yet another underground garage and make the turn to head down.
The gate lifts after a brief pause and the press of a button from my driver, and in we go, weaving our way under concrete beams and fluorescent lights until we come to the interior core of the building and a bank of elevators.
Heidi steps out in sync with the driver, and I wait nervously as he rounds the hood and walks up to open my door.
Nearly a quarter century in the limelight, and I still get anxious that I won’t live up to people’s expectations.
To me, I’m just a dork with a lot of help covering it up.
I used to think it would get easier. That one day I would find comfort in my role—but honestly, I think it just gets worse.
The more success I acquire, the more I feel like an imposter.
Funny, huh?
Heidi jerks her head for me to hurry up from her spot by the elevator as I step out of the car and onto the concrete floor in my high heels. The slit in my skirt pulls open almost its full length, peaking at the apex of my thigh.
Personally, I thought I’d get to start dressing a little less provocatively when I turned up pregnant—a tiny silver lining in a mess of complicated shit—but the joke was on me. They haven’t toned down my wardrobe at all.
In fact, I think they may have even amped it up a bit.
It’s just considerably less comfortable now.
My heels click and clack against the hard floor as I pick up my pace. The elevator arrives as if choreographed, opening its doors in just enough time that I don’t even have to break my stride.
Freddie Bones and two of Heidi’s assistants, Toby and Wilson, follow me in, and we all turn to face the doors to ride up in silence.
I watch as the numbers tick by, counting quickly and efficiently until we reach the top floor of the building, the apparent location of the ballroom and the corporate event.
The doors open and the people part, making room for me to take up my stride again, leading the way.
With each step, I coach myself away from the woman I am and toward the woman they know. The persona. The image. The person they’re paying for.
My heart thrums in my chest as we get closer and closer, until finally, Heidi speeds up to get out in front of me and cues a man stationed at the door. He nods, cracks it open, and nods to someone else, and I take one final deep breath.
With a little nod—almost like a bull rider signaling he’s ready to leave the chute—I instruct the man at the door to open it wide and step inside with an act of confidence I’ve never actually felt a day in my life.
Two steps into the mostly empty room, I pull up short as a tall, well-dressed man stands up from his chair and turns to face me.
Familiar, gorgeous green eyes.
Strong jaw.
Full, kissable, perfect lips.
Harrison.
Oh, holy shit.
My throat dries up like the Sahara, and every muscle in my body locks up upon recognition.
I am a statue of disbelief and shock. I am carved of the hardest stone with the most resistance to erosion, and not even the love of my sister can save me from this fate.
I don’t have a sister, just to be clear. I’ve just always wanted to use a Frozen reference in everyday life, and I don’t know that I’ll ever get this opportunity again.
All of this to say, I wouldn’t be able to get my feet to go any farther if I had a tow rope and a tractor trailer hooked to them.
“You’re a hard woman to get in touch with. For some reason, everyone I spoke to was concerned about my intentions for getting close to you,” he says softly, the perfectly chiseled line of his jaw making his subtle dimple seem extra expressive. I stare hard at his garden-green eyes and white button-down shirt.
