Chapter 14 Ella
ELLA
Iwake early, having barely slept. Too much has happened, and I’m completely out of sorts.
I try to block all the anxiety and negativity that plagued me last night as I get ready for work, but I’m only partially successful, because my mother and Maya keep texting me.
They’re both incredulous at the headlines and furious that I didn’t tell them I was seeing Asher.
I sure as hell can’t tell them the truth over text in case my phone is hacked, so I’m taking their hits and feeding them the same story that was released to the press.
I feel like an ass lying to my mom and sister, but since they aren’t here in New York, I don’t really have another option.
Hopefully they don’t hate me for it one day if they learn the truth.
I ignore a string of texts from my mom as I apply my makeup slowly, meticulously.
I need to look perfect today. The board is breathing down Emily’s neck because they want some favorable publicity, and they want it now.
We assume it’s because they’re upset Asher chose me instead of one of their preferred heiresses, but regardless of their reasons, we need to deliver.
So, Matthew, Emily, and I finalized the plan last night.
Asher and I will take separate cars to work this morning so that as I “stop for coffee” at the coffee shop across the street from the Langford Holdings building, there will be plenty of photos taken by paparazzi already tipped off by Emily.
I finish curling my hair just as I hear a light knock on my door.
“Good morning, darling,” Matthew’s voice calls out from my bedroom. “I hope you’re ready, we have a couple of options to try, and we need to leave in twenty minutes.”
“Just finishing up,” I call back to him.
Matthew sets a plate on the small table in the corner of my room as I walk out of the bathroom. “I took the liberty of bringing up your breakfast since Asher said you hadn’t made it down to eat yet.”
“Thanks.”
But I immediately forget about the food as I notice an array of clothes I’ve never seen lying on my bed.
“What’s this?”
“Our options.”
“But we already bought work outfits for me just a few days ago.”
“Those outfits were for Ella, the PR employee who needed work attire to do her job. These outfits are for Ella Hale, Asher Langford’s shiny new girlfriend.
If you had let me buy designer on Monday, I wouldn’t have had to purchase new clothes so soon.
Asher Langford’s girlfriend cannot be spotted in clothes that are not designer. ”
I roll my eyes and pick up a muffin off the table and take an obnoxiously large bite out of it. No way I’m going to risk getting crumbs on clothes that cost the same as rent; I’ll down my food before I get dressed.
This is one part of this situation that has been a little harder for me to accept now that it’s me in the role.
From a PR team standpoint, I understand the concept.
Asher is considered to be in an “elite” class of people.
Which I hate to even think about, as if categorizing people into classes isn’t dehumanizing.
But unfortunately, most of the people in the “upper” and “elite” classes don’t agree with that ideology, so we are left to play their game if this is going to work.
And in their game, there are certain expectations that are inherent in living among the “elite class.” And those expectations extend to those around Asher—especially his girlfriend.
But now as the “girlfriend,” wearing clothes that cost a small fortune is a bit tough to take in.
Play the game, do it well, and get it over with, I remind myself. My resolve hasn’t changed since my fight with Asher last night. If anything, it’s strengthened after a horrible night of sleep. I will play the game, and the better I do that, the faster this is all over.
“I’m loving this emerald blouse,” Matthew says, holding it up for me as I polish off my muffin.
“And I think we need to do a skirt, not pants. We need some sex appeal straight out of the gate. Not that you didn’t get that with your photos yesterday.
The world is buzzing with how sexy you looked in that little black dress at the club Tuesday night.
It couldn’t hurt to keep that going, but in a more professional way.
After all, Asher is only known to date the most beautiful and sexy women there are. ”
I snort. “So, no pressure then.”
“Don’t be silly. You fit into that category.”
“Well, since puberty hit me so appallingly and disrespectfully late, sometimes I still feel like the bony, awkward girl who was all elbows and knees.”
I know I’m not that girl anymore, but this is also not your run of the mill situation, and it’s bringing up a lot of my insecurities.
It’s one thing to be confident with your looks and your body—which I am—but it’s a whole other thing to be confident about them when they’re going to be thrown into the public arena.
That’s a level of confidence I need to find, and I need to find it fast if I’m going to survive this.
“Lucky for us, puberty did its job, late as it may have been, and your hips and tits are to die for. Even as a gay man, I can very much appreciate them. Strip, and let’s try our options.”
“You’re lucky I was a dancer my whole life and am used to changing in front of people,” I tease, pulling my pajamas off.
“Oh, please. I said I appreciated your hips and tits, not that I wanted them. But this is fulfilling so many of my childhood dreams, so pull on the first outfit and let’s take a look.”
“How is this fulfilling your childhood dreams?” I ask, buttoning up the blouse.
“Do you know how much shit I got for playing with Barbies when I was a child? I loved Barbies. And the only way I could play with them without ridicule bordering on abuse, was to steal them from my sister and play with them in secret. I’ve always loved fashion.”
“Why didn’t you go into fashion then?”
“I didn’t want working in the field to ruin it for me.
If you think what we do is demanding, try a month in the fashion industry.
It’s one of the most brutal environments I’ve ever seen.
Plus, being a personal assistant just fits my personality well.
I get to run Asher’s life for him, which suits my bossy nature, I get all the perks from being associated with him, and my job is never the same and never dull.
Like last night, I called this designer’s store, and they stayed open late for me to come shop for the perfect work outfit for you.
And Saturday night, I’ll be with the two of you at the gala.
What other job gives me such variety and scratches so many itches?
Not many. Plus, Asher pays me ridiculously well. ”
We examine the first outfit and determine the emerald is too much, at least for now. We don’t want it to look like I’m trying for attention. We actually want the opposite. Any attention I get needs to look as natural and unwanted as possible.
The second outfit is a cream blouse with a dove gray skirt.
The blouse is silk and has short sleeves that hug my upper arms. It fits in all the right places, and when tucked into the equally fitted skirt, it gives off professional with sex-appeal.
We pair it with swede heels, and Matthew hands me a butter-soft leather designer laptop bag.
“I told you you’d look incredible in designer,” he says, smug as a cat. “The cream looks beautiful with your olive-gold skin and the gold tones in your hair.”
He slides a dove gray twill overcoat over my shoulders and flips my hair out of the collar.
It hangs in loose, beachy curls to my ribs.
Overall, I look exactly as I should: professional, high-end, and with a nice hint of sexy.
My under-eyes are a bit darker than I would like, even with concealer, but two bad nights of sleep will do that.
“Ready?” Matthew asks.
I take one last look in the mirror and let out a long, anxious breath. “Ready enough.”
The flashes of the paparazzi cameras still flash as I step into the west lobby of the Langford Holdings building, coffee in hand.
Holy shit, that little outing was a whirlwind.
Dozens of men with cameras were shouting my name, clicking away with their cameras to get the shot, and following so close that it was scary at times.
Robert and two other security guards were with me. But it was still intense.
I don’t think that’s something I could ever get used to.
I make my way across the lobby and try not to be obvious as I let out a sigh of relief; the cameras are still clicking photos of me through the glass doors, and too many people inside the lobby are staring.
The attention directed my way inside the building is not the same as the frenzy outside, but it’s clear everyone in here knows who I am and who I’m “dating.”
Let the games begin.
Whispers and stares follow me as I head to the elevators with three guards in tow. Luckily, only one will be following me the rest of the day. Robert and the tall one, I need to learn his name, give me a quick nod goodbye before heading for the east lobby on the opposite side of the building.
The elevator doors open, and the remaining security guard and I step inside, along with two men and a woman. Just as the doors close, my phone rings, and Asher’s name flashes across the screen. I hurry to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Are you okay?” he demands.
“Yes . . . why wouldn’t I be?”
“I could see the fucking paparazzi from the conference room windows. I didn’t like it.”
“Oh, well it was crazy, but we made it through just fine. Robert and the other guard should be on their way up to you by now.”
I notice the men and the woman giving me curious glances in the mirrored walls of the elevator.
“Why aren’t you with them?” His tone is still demanding.
“Because my desk is on the opposite side of the building.”
“Is Jenkins with you?”