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“I was there at the boutique with you. I saw the way your eyes lit up when you tried on the outfits that spoke to the true Grace. Each time I asked you which clothes we should take, you pointed to the ones that excited you the least but showed more skin.”
“That’s not true!” She glared at me, her knuckles white from holding her utensils too tight.
“Really? You’re going to tell me you didn’t love that bare-back silver dress or the blood red one?” She didn’t answer – didn’t need to. The way she averted her eyes spoke volumes. “You passed on them because they weren’t skimpy enough to draw the kind of attention you’re used to.”
Grace pushed away her half-eaten breakfast.
“You’re doing the same thing with your singing career; being who Marcus told you to be, rather than who you want to be.”
“And who would that be, since you know everything?” Her voice dripped with resentment.
“You want to be courted by places like Risqué. You dream of red carpet treatment, where people scream your name and faint with excitement over your touch. You hunger for the kind of respect and deference women like Seria and Sheila get wherever they go. But Peter won’t give you that.”
Grace’s anger slowly abated as I spoke, her eyes full of longing. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at me.
“That doesn’t happen to girls like me.”
“There is no such thing asa girl like you,” I said, gesturing for her to continue eating. “You are yourself, period – not whatever label anyone wants to give you. And if you want to prance in the elite circle, take the steps to get there.”
“As if it was that simple,” she said, nibbling on a triangle of toast.
“Nothing is ever simple, especially things that are worthwhile,” I said in a conciliatory tone. “And nothing is ever guaranteed either. But with hard work—”
Grace frowned.
“Yes, Grace, withhard work, you have a chance to achieve your goals. And even if they don’t reach the height you were aiming for, you will still end up in a much better place than where you started.”
Looking dejected, Grace dropped her half-eaten toast on her plate and crossed her arms. “What kind ofhard work?”
“First, you need a vocal coach to get your voice in shape. You thought Seria was good, yet she has nothing on you, other than training. Then a stage presence coach so you learn how to enthrall your audience like a singer, not a stripper. At the same time, you will start preparing a show that puts your audience’s expectations first. That means, researching and analyzing your audience.”
“Man, you sure are all work and no play. You’re right; I want the glitz and glamor. However, I don’t want to become you. Sure, you’re all kinds of rich now, but you never relax, and you never have fun.”
“Oh, but I do make time to have fun. In fact, we’re going to the grand opening of Sade tonight,” I said, keeping my expression neutral.
“Oh wow!” she exclaimed, her eyes gleaming. “Everyone here is bending over backward trying to get tickets for it. I bet you’ve got VIP tickets with a private booth.”
“Naturally,” I said, spreading a generous layer of cream cheese with chives on a piece of toast. I took a large bite from my toast and leaned back in my chair.
“I can’t wait to see it. I hear it’s wild in there.”
“So the owner claims. I will have very special guests accompanying us tonight,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Braxians. The heirs to the leaders of some of our most prominent clans.”
She poured herself some orange juice. “Ok.”
“You will beniceto them.”
She paused pouring juice, her eyes snapping to mine.
“How nice isnice?” she asked.
I held her gaze. “Extremely nice.”
Her face shut down. She put the bottle of juice down and sagged in her chair. She pinched her lips, her chest heaving. “I’m not fucking some random Braxians.”
My voice hardened. “You will do whatever the hell I tell you to do. And if sinking their cock in your cunt is what those Braxians want, you will bend over, spread those creamy thighs and take it. Understood?”
She shook her head. “No, I won’t.”
