Chapter 6
Cyndee
The driver who drove my sister and I to the luxury salon and spa earlier today was now taking us back to our apartment.
His name was Ross. I wouldn’t want to make him angry or run into him in a dark alley.
He had massive muscles, tattoos on his neck, and a three-inch scar on the side of his face.
He hardly spoke, but I think he had an Irish accent.
To say the least, I felt safe with Ross and wouldn’t do anything to offend him or make him want to hurt me.
In a few hours, Fabio would pick me up and we’d go to the ballet for The Nutcracker. His sister was the Sugar Plum Fairy. Impressive, right?
I’d seen a performance a long time ago put on by a local dance school, but it wouldn’t be able to compete with the San Francisco Ballet.
“I feel like I’m glowing.” Celine admired her nails. “Am I?”
I glanced at her. “Your skin is luminous, and your hair is silky. I guess that’s glowing.”
“It is and you’re radiant. Do you feel as amazing as you look?”
“I guess.” I shrugged my shoulders and felt Ross looking at me. I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure because he was wearing black sunglasses. It just felt like someone was watching me, and he was the only other person in the car with us.
Did Ross know about Fabio’s plan to use me as his fake girlfriend to appease his family? If he was Fabio’s confidant, I guess he would know. The thought sort of made me feel weird. Was Ross quietly judging me? Did he think I was only after the money? I supposed it appeared that way.
Although, I genuinely wanted to help Fabio. The money, clothes and the pampering I’d just experienced were incredible. It was like I was living an alternate life. Someone else’s life. Or maybe I was dreaming that I was a princess living in San Francisco.
Please, nobody wake me up! I hoped this was the longest, most detailed dream I’d ever had.
But I knew it was real. Regretfully, real.
If I could back out, I would. But my sister and Fabio were so invested…
I didn’t want to put him in a bind or disappoint him. It would make working for him awkward and uncomfortable.
He’d already spent a ton of money on me, and a fair amount on my sister.
Four massive black clothing bags had been delivered to my apartment the other day.
I was terrified to see what was inside the bags.
I was confident the clothes were styles I had never worn before and brands I could never afford on my limited budget.
Each garment bag had Do Not Open Until Day of Event printed on it and was numbered: Event 1, Event 2, Event 3, Extra 4.
I had zero problems not peeking, but Celine was going nuts waiting.
We’d been like this every year at Christmastime.
Mama would wrap the gifts and put them under the tree.
I’d admire the presents from afar and all the pretty paper and ribbons.
Celine shook every box and tried to guess what was in the package.
For weeks, the family would have to guard the presents to make sure she didn’t lose her mind and open every gift.
It was a similar vibe at our apartment. Celine was dying to see what Fabio bought me and had already asked if she could wear the clothes. After I wore them, of course.
Admittedly, her asking rubbed me wrong. It was as if this whole time she’d only been thinking of herself and what she could gain by the arrangement. Not entirely surprising. Celine had always been a selfish person.
Maybe those thoughts of my sister were harsh.
It had to be my nerves getting the best of me.
Tonight was the first event, and I didn’t know what to expect.
I’d never been to the War Memorial Opera House.
I had looked it up on the Internet, and it was absolutely beautiful.
A massive crystal chandelier hung above the seats.
It was fancy and elegant. I suspected my outfit would also be elegant and very expensive.
My stomach twisted into a knot as I studied my nails. I hadn’t worn them long since my high school prom. I kept them short. How would I do my job on Monday with long pretty nails?
Focus on the positive. The money will improve your life.
It would also better the lives of my sister and my parents.
But I feared what the ultimate cost would be when it was all over.
“Do you think Fabio would pay for us to go back to that salon one more time before Christmas?” My sister’s question jerked me out of my thoughts.
“What?” Had I heard her right? After the arrangement was over and he paid me, we could pay for ourselves.
I sensed Ross’s attention on me, although I still couldn’t see his eyes behind his dark shades.
“I would love to get the works treatment, again, before we go home.” She exhaled a satiated breath.
Ross cleared his throat and worked his jaw. Celine annoyed him as she did most people.
“That’s too soon. Maybe after the New Year when we can pay for it ourselves,” I replied. “But I think once a year or maybe twice a year would be sufficient for all the things they did to us.”
Seriously, it was like we’d gone through a makeover from head-to-toe. When the receptionist told me we were getting “the works” done, I had no idea what that entailed. But seeing how excited Celine was had helped me be open to anything.
And I didn’t feel as though I could decline anything because Fabio had set up the appointment.
Each station had a different purpose. At one, my bikini area was buffed, waxed, and moisturized. Why that was important, I couldn’t imagine. Fabio wouldn’t see anything under my clothes, but whatever.
I had the most relaxing massage of my life before my mani and pedi.
The nail tech had told me the instructions were no bold colors or crazy long nails.
I told her to do what she thought would be best for an elegant holiday season.
Since I had no idea what the clothes Fabio had selected or color scheme, the tech and I had agreed on pink nudes with understated snowflake design.
I loved my nails.
And my makeup.
And my hair which was long and straight, parted down the middle. The hairstylist had said one of the Kardashians had worn their hair the same way at an awards show.
In one afternoon, I’d been transformed. I literally felt like a different woman. Maybe someone hidden away inside me was finally revealed.
“We’re here!” Celine chirped. “About time. I swear this driver took the long way home.”
“Celine,” I said in a scolding tone and elbowed her. Could she be anymore rude?
Ross stayed silent as he exited the car to open our door. But before he could do his job, Celine had burst from the backseat of the vehicle and hurried toward the entrance. She was probably going straight for the first bag of clothes.
“Thank you, Ross,” I told him as I got out of the car. “Sorry about my sister.”
He shut the door and removed his sunglasses. His bright blue eyes studied my face. “You’re very different.”
“Um, yes.” I gave him a little wave on my way to my apartment building. Did he mean I was different from when he first saw me or that my sister and I were different? Well, I wasn’t about to ask him to clarify.
“See you this evening,” he said.
I didn’t respond as I went inside. What was there to say when I wasn’t thrilled to be seeing him so soon? Or the reason why I would be seeing him.
My spine stiffened I remembered the Nutcracker and my arrangement with Fabio. In a couple of hours, I would officially become Fabio Ferrari’s fake girlfriend.
I didn’t feel at all good about it.
Entering my apartment, Celine stood in our small living room holding the garment bag labeled: Event 1.
“Why are you going so slow? Aren’t you excited to see what’s inside?” She shook the bag with a wild almost insane look in her eyes.
“Stop it.” I snatched my clothes away from her. “You’re freaking me out.”
“How am I freaking you out?” She sat on the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. Celine’s reaction took me back to when we were younger. She was two years older than me, so we were very close. My mother used to dress up in matching outfits all the time.
“You just are. It’s like I’m your ticket out of poverty.”
“Gimme a break. Why aren’t you as excited about all this like me?”
“Because I could get hurt in all this. I’m in unchartered territory. They aren’t our people. Our kind. What if I forget who I am when I’m surrounded by all the glamour and rich people?”
“You’re bumming me out.”
“I’m giving you a reality check. It’s me who has a lot to lose.”
“And gain. Don’t forget the money.”
“You’re always about the freaking money. Money doesn’t matter to me.”
Celine growled with frustration. “Now you’re being ridiculous. Any sane person would have jumped at the chance.”
“I need to get dressed.” I took the garment bag into my room and shut the door.
“Holler if you need help,” my sister shouted.
I was more than capable of getting dressed on my own. My sister drove me crazy, and I needed some quiet so I could prepare for my evening with Fabio.
Obviously, Celine didn’t understand what I was going through. We’d disagreed a lot about a lot of things growing up. People used to say she was more like our Puerto Rican mama, and I was more like our Italian dad. I never knew what that meant but I agreed, my sister and I were quite different.
I exhaled a deep breath as I scanned my small bedroom.
Next year at this time, I could be living in a different place.
Maybe in a home I owned. One I could decorate the way I wanted.
I’d deck the halls in every room like my mama did.
She was always super extra about everything.
She would put a tree in every room, and it would have its own theme.
I loved it and missed being home where it felt festive and magical during the month of December.
“Let’s do this…” I unzipped the bag and removed its contents.
Valentino and Jimmy Choo jumped out at me. A gorgeous Valentino tan fur coat and a handbag had me gasping, along with a pink sweater dress.
I opened the shoe box to reveal Jimmy Choo gold metallic platform heels. My heart was racing as I looked at the most expensive pile of clothing. In a small black velvet back was a gold Gucci coil ring and diamond earrings.
Fabio didn’t need to pay me to be his fake girlfriend after spending a fortune to outfit me in these luxury brands.
I took off my clothes and tried to mentally prepare myself to put on the new ones.
Being a billionaire’s fake girlfriend was just a job. I was going to make a killing in the three weeks. Celine and I could shutdown our cleaning business and move out of San Francisco.
I’d never have to see Fabio Ferrari again.