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So, he entrusts me with this challenge. Fucking perfect.
When he leaves, I exhale a heavy puff of air, gripping the balustrade. It doesn’t help. I am a barrel of gunpowder ready to go off.
Alessandra finds me, probably to check how I am holding up.
I jerk my chin at her face. “How many bottles of concealer did you need?” She’s a reputable surgeon and I am fucking proud of her.
She laughs and rests her head on my shoulder.
I chuckle. “It wouldn’t be the first time you fall asleep like that.”
“I wanted to be here for you,” she says through a yawn.
“I was avoiding you.”
“I know, but I want you to tell me why.”
A sigh rumbles out of my throat. “Because you look at me and know.”
“And that’s bad?”
“Uncomfortable.”
“Family is all about discomfort.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
She could have stayed at home, enjoying the little time she has with her family. She works so hard, making me appreciate her friendship and support even more. I also know her guilt over thinking she’s not doing enough. But if she did more, she would drop dead from overexertion. Thankfully, Hayden loves her so completely that she will never lose herself.
Alessandra tilts her head, worry lining her eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this? Cam, I heard that she has some issues, and you’re not equipped for that...”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“You’re not a professional.”
“Maybe the last thing she needs is another professional.”
The commotion from the inside has us following the gasps, the silence ringing louder than the cello and the piano combined.
Curiosity drives me toward the door.
A mirage wearing an elegant black jumpsuit appears at the top of the stairs in the foyer. My gaze trails up to blond hair with black tips, cut perfectly into a jaw-length bob. Green eyes full of apprehension scan the room. Yet, she wears violet lipstick—a bold move. She’s an entire contrast: beautiful but on the pale side, frail but different from the norm.
I want to discover who is underneath those layers.
This is not good.
Over the years, I’ve peeked downstairs at the gatherings my parents organized. The only difference is that now I have to take part and meet my future husband. Thoughts of Cameron have been taking up space in my head all week.
My conclusion is that someone who agrees to marry me wants the same thing I do—to be left alone.
I step inside my walk-in closet and black greets me. I ordered something for tonight’s occasion. The black long-sleeved jumpsuit covers my arms from shoulders to wrists. It’s cinched in the middle with a black belt. To finish my look, I slip on my power wig. The blond ombre hairpiece with black ends always gives me a sense of reassurance.
I smile, remembering Noah’s reaction the first time he saw me. He thought I came straight from a cartoon, dressed in black and wearing a wig and oversized violet sunglasses. He said I looked badass, but the fact is, I can’t look at what’s underneath. That girl is weak.
My phone rings and I look at my smartwatch. My parents expect punctuality, but considering everything, they’re going to have to forgive me if I show up a bit later. Maybe I can escape tonight altogether.
I answer my phone, and my agent Scott says, “I have fantastic news. The Game Xpert will buy Fantaria for one point five million dollars.”
