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“Oh, we’re sorry!” The women swarmed her, group hugging her, and she didn’t fight it, she welcomed it. Welcomed their friendship, their loyalty and love and they earned hers in return.
Justine clapped her hands, drawing their attention. “No crying, Cinderella needs to get ready for the ball. Christy, get her make-up ready. I’ll do her hair and Taylor if she lets you nearher ears then make it quick and painless. We’re running out of time!”
Taylor turned towards her, a brow arched. Rebelle tugged her bare lobe and then looked at the gorgeous earrings each woman wore, and she wanted something beautiful and shiny too.
“You won’t regret it,” Taylor said, and Rebelle nodded.
Turns out she regretted it for about five seconds when it stung then burned and then she was distracted by the sparkling gems that nestled into her ear lobe. She touched them, carefully so as not to anger her throbbing ear, awed at the decadence of the jewels.
The women got to work, curling her hair into bouncy waves that skimmed her jaw. Her eyes were smokey, her cheeks contoured and her lips slicked with a stunning red tone and a gloss at her cupids bow which drew her eye every time she looked at her reflection. Then she was in her red gown and strapping on the gold shoes, facing her friends who all looked stunning.
“We need a selfie! We look too good not to document it,” Christy said.
Normally Rebelle hated having her picture taken but she wanted one of them, of this moment. They posed and Rebelle smiled wide, the flash blinding her briefly.
Justine drove them to the bar and Rebelle lost herself in the excited chatter, trying to forget the nerves churning in her stomach. She knew now that if she hadn’t gone to Justine’s to get ready, she never would have made it, her nerves wouldn’t have allowed her. The nerves that hounded her now telling her she couldn’t cope with the crowd, the loud, sudden noise of the bar, getting tongue-tied when talking to potential investors. But all of that paled in comparison to the nerves she felt at the thought of seeing Will.
They arrived and hurried her towards the bar but before they could drag her inside, she paused. “You go in. I just need a minute.”
Christy squeezed her hand. Taylor kissed her cheek, murmuring, “You look fine as fuck. He’s a fool if he doesn’t trip over his tongue trying to get to you.”
Justine lingered behind. “If you need me for anything then just come and get me. I’ll give you a minute, but you’ve got this, honey. Trust me and yourself.” Then she was gone in a flash of orange, disappearing into the bar.
Rebelle drew in deep breaths, working them through her tightening throat. Her knees were like Jell-o and her hands shook. She caught her reflection in the window and was startled at her appearance. Her brain immediately reacted and told her that she didn’t look like herself.
“Or do you look exactly like who you’re supposed to be?” she murmured, smoothing her hands down her dress.“Final step, walk inside that bar.”
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and released slowly. Thinking of her sister, counting out what’s good, thinking about her candle, the rose bush, Bryan, Parfait, the shelter, Will, all the things that gave her joy. Until she had the strength to push open the door and waltz inside.
The noise enveloped her, but she was used to that now she’d done a few shifts at the bar. The warmth from the room welcomed her as she glanced around the spectacularly made-up bar. She barely recognized it. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling, reflecting against the wooden floor. The tables were pushed back, creating a large space in the middle where most people congregated. Large balloon stands dotted around the room with pearlescent balloons and more lights. There was a slideshow playing on a projector featuring images of the shelter and animals, a couple of her which she was dismayed to see.
She took in the guests, all dressed up in their finest outfits. She couldn’t even conceive how expensive some of them were. Everyone looked like they bathed in money. She began to feel intimidated until she remembered why she was here.
And then she saw him.
Tall and fair, his strawberry blond hair combed back off his forehead. His eyes shining bright, his freckles standing out across his sharp cheekbones and hard intimidating jawline. He wore a navy velvet suit jacket with a black bowtie and black tailored pants but her pulse pounded when she spotted the constellation suspenders she had given him peeking out from under the jacket. His tattoos spilled out the collar of his shirt, giving him that edge that she now realized she was drawn to. He looked powerful, strong and daunting. As a man, he was overwhelming, but she knew underneath that exterior was a good, soft soul with a giant heart.
“Breathe,” she murmured to herself. Smoothing her expression, she headed towards him.
*
Will’s fake laugh was killing him. If he had to do it one more time he thought his jaw would explode into a bunch of crying laughing emojis.
He didn’t like fake people, in fact he strongly disliked them, but he would fake it with the best of them if it meant getting money for Rebelle and the shelter. He’d ask about the Hamiltons’ kids. He’d agree to summer in Barcelona with the painfully dull Rosbergs and he’d invest in the Richardsons’ daughters start-up that sounded like it was destined for failure. He’d do whatever it took for Rebelle, for the animals and he’d do it all with a big, fat fake smile on his face and have another hearty laugh ready for someone’s bullshit joke.
He sighed with mirth, tugging at the bowtie that was currently trying to choke him out, then smoothed a hand over the deep blue velvet jacket which was his personal favorite. “Good one, Phillip; where do you come up with these?”
The elderly Phillip tapped a thick finger against his bulbous nose. “If I told you I’d have to kill you!”
Will guffawed, his head thrown back until Phillip believed he truly found him hilarious. The only way this would have been bearable was if Rebelle had been with him, then they could have kept each other going. He was determined not to miss her but was failing miserably.
He wiped a non-existent tear from his eye before firming his gaze. “Now that we’re getting on so well, Phillip, let me tell you about the opportunity you have before you to really change the world,” Will began.
Phillip was the richest man in the room, even more so than Will. The only reason he was here tonight was to try to collect Will’s friendship. Phillip had Celebrity Worship Syndrome and Will was in his sights. He may be the richest and obsessed with celebrity, but he would also be the toughest nut to crack tonight and that didn’t stop Will from having his shot.
He got ready to launch into his spiel but a delicate hand and a softly spoken, “William?” stopped him.
He looked down, his words halting in his throat and a tangled cough escaped. His breath abandoned him and he ran his hungry gaze over Rebelle. His shock at seeing her was quickly replaced by arousal and a need to drop to his knees before this goddess who had graced them all with her presence.
