Chapter 28 Ella
ELLA
“Oh my god, don’t you love the ladies’ room?” Daphne asks me as she sets a plant down on her desk the next morning. “It’s amazing. I’ll never be able to pee down on the PR floor again.”
“Yes, it’s unreal. Poor Janet is not going to be happy about sharing it with more women.” The thought makes my petty side smile. While I love the idea of women in the boardroom, the Langford board really struck out with their choice of Janet. But Celeste, Asher’s cousin, seems decent.
“I can’t get over the view!” Heather gushes, staring out the wall of windows overlooking the city. “I hope this assignment lasts at least a year. I want to work up on this floor for as long as possible.”
I’m dizzy at the thought. I know the timeline is murky, and the board wants to milk as much good press out of this situation as possible, but it’s only been a week, and it’s already overwhelming.
Asher’s world has completely consumed and eclipsed my own.
I signed up for it, but damn, it’s still a lot.
One of the receptionists knocks and enters the room, carrying an oversized canvas bag, bursting at the seams.
“This is all mail for you, Ella,” she says, setting the bag down on my desk.
“Whoa. From whom?”
She shrugs. “Fan mail, I think?”
I open the bag and sift through the letters. Who still sends fan mail? This is crazy. I open one letter. It’s written by a woman named Susan who has beautiful penmanship. She compliments me mostly, but reminds me not to be a hussy—a great man like Asher Langford can’t have a hussy for a wife.
Noted.
Thanks for that, Susan.
The team gathers around me, and we all start opening the letters, curious.
They range from children to the elderly, men and women, and their topics vary just as wildly.
The ones from kids mostly have questions they want to know about me.
Which, incidentally, kind of weirds me out.
I have no idea why kids would be interested in me, but then Asher is kind of like American royalty, so I guess some children know who he is. It’s a bit of a trip.
“Shit,” Michael says. “This isn’t good.”
“What is it?” Emily asks.
Michael sets a letter onto my desk so everyone can see it.
As I scan over it, I don’t know whether to take it seriously or whether it’s a joke.
It looks exactly like a stereotypical stalker or serial killer letter, with the entire thing comprised of different letters cut out from magazines and newspapers.
Asher Langford is MY husband
STAY away From him, you whore
Below the message is a picture of me with my eyes cut out, black x’s drawn over the holes, and red marker scribbled like blood over my throat. My stomach drops.
Fucking hell.
I guess it’s not a joke.
Emily snatches the letter and its envelope off the desk and marches out of the conference room.
I hurry after her as she heads for Asher’s office.
My stomach is in knots. Asher is going to freak.
But I’m also freaking out. What kind of psycho thinks she’s married to Asher?
I assume it’s a woman, anyway, but I could be wrong. And what does that mean for me?
Emily knocks, and it takes a moment for Asher to answer.
“Ladies?” he says, moving aside for us to enter his office. “What can I do for you?”
“Ella has received quite a bit of fan mail,” Emily says, taking a seat in front of Asher’s desk. I sit down next to her. “Most of it was fine, the stuff we would typically expect, but we got one letter that was concerning.”
She tosses the letter down onto his desk. He picks it up, and his jaw ticks.
“When did this come?”
Emily checks the date stamp on the front of the envelope. “Yesterday.” She tosses the envelope down onto his desk. He picks it up and scans over it. There is no name or return address.
“I’ll send this to my forensics team and see if it matches any others we have.”
“You’ve received letters like this before?” I ask.
Asher lets out a long breath. “Unfortunately, there are a few women around the world who are under the delusion that they are married to me. I get letters from them from time to time. Thank you for bringing this to me, Emily. I’d like to speak to Ella alone, now.”
Emily nods and leaves the office.
Asher runs his hand along his tense jaw. “I want to be able to tell you that this threat isn’t something to worry about, but I can’t. While it is unlikely that anything will come of this, we still have to treat it like a credible threat.”
“Does this change anything going forward?”
“Yes and no. But things like this are the reason I insisted on you moving into my penthouse and having a security detail. This is the one aspect I hate most about an existence like mine. I know that public attention comes with the territory, and I can accept that, but it’s the crazies and the people with real malicious intent that make it so difficult. ”
“So you really have women who think they’re married to you?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yes.”
“That’s so creepy.”
“It is. And I think it’s probably best to get you some self-defense classes. I’ll have Robert teach you on the weekends. And you will carry both a taser and pepper spray on you at all times outside of the penthouse.”
I groan. The list of things I need to do keeps growing.
He picks up his phone and texts for a moment before slamming the phone back down on his desk.
“Please don’t let this derail you,” I plead, noticing the beginnings of him unraveling. It’s just like the night of the gala. “I know you have issues with safety, and this is upsetting for you; it’s upsetting for me. But we have the movie premiere tonight, and I don’t want to be humiliated again.”
Asher’s jaw ticks again, and he rolls his eyes. “Humiliated is a bit of a strong word.”
Irritation flashes through me. “Don’t be dismissive like that. The media had a field day tearing into me, and it was humiliating.”
“I know what it’s like to be torn apart by the press.”
“Not like a woman, you don’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“While I don’t pretend to know the entire scope of what’s been reported about you, I know most of the negative press has to do with your reputation as a playboy and about you having too much money and power.
I’ve never seen articles insulting your intelligence, dissecting your looks, or eviscerating you for having no social status.
I’ve had all of those insults directed at me and it’s only been a week.
“And even when you get bad press, there’s almost always anecdotes within the articles praising your looks or your business acumen.
You get a shit ton of free passes because you’re rich and handsome and a man.
All the women want you, and all the men want to be you, and that gives you a lot of damn leeway.
I’m the woman suddenly in the spotlight for landing you, and while I wish women bashing other women over petty jealousy was a thing of the past, we’re not there yet.
“So, I can’t afford any missteps. And even then, no matter how perfect I am, no matter how much good press I get, there will always be a ton of people out there finding and creating faults in me.
That’s my new reality. I’m not saying that you don’t experience any of that, but it’s just not the same for you as a man.
So do me a favor, and don’t brush aside my concerns because they’re not your experience. They are mine, and they are real.”
“Well, you’ll have five million dollars to assuage your humiliation with.”
Now, I’m past irritation. Fuck him. “You can be a real asshole, sometimes.” I stand up to leave.
“We’re not done here.”
“Oh, I’m done.”
Asher’s desk phone rings, and I smirk. Saved by the phone.
Asher answers and barks to whoever is on the other line that he’ll call them back, then storms after me. I’m just out of his door when he catches up. But luckily for me, Daphne and Heather are passing by on their way to the conference room.
“Oh good, you’re done,” Heather says. “Our meeting to prep for the movie premiere is just about to start.”
I turn toward Asher, but sidle away from him and move next to Heather. His eyes narrow.
“I’ll see you tonight at the premiere,” I say sweetly. Then I turn and walk away with Heather and Daphne.
So much for not fighting at work.
But that’s what he gets for being an asshole.
“Is the dress here yet?” I ask Matthew as he pokes his head in while Andre and Trenton work in tandem on my hair and makeup.
“It just got here. Katya is steaming it as we speak, and she’s assured me the fit will be flawless.”
I cross my fingers. I’ve had two fittings with tweaks to the dress because I want it to fit like a glove.
We went too bland with the last dress, and I was labeled as plain.
I won’t make that mistake again. I heard the people loud and clear as they practically shouted that Asher Langford’s girlfriend should be someone with sex appeal.
Challenge accepted, fuckers.
The people will get what they want in spades because tonight, I’m going for vixen.
Emily is a little worried with this strategy since it might feed into the “sleeping my way to the top” chatter in the media, but I think I’ll be okay.
This movie and franchise have been labeled as fast-paced, sexy, and dangerous, so I’ve tried to feed into that theme with my look tonight.
That way, the sexy vixen is appropriate for the venue, and I can get away with showing my sexy side with the context to do so.
“There we are,” Andre says, giving my hair one last tousle and spray with hairspray.
Trenton finishes applying my red lipstick, and I take a look in the mirror.
Perfect.
“You two are magicians,” I say, smiling at my reflection. It’s exactly what I wanted. Sexy, beachy waves for my hair, and a light smoky eye and red lips for my makeup. Not to mention the full body bronze makeup I have everywhere that makes my skin look sun-kissed and glowing.
Katya brings in the dress, and we both squeal when it’s on and in place.
I told Matthew I wanted “sophisticated Jessica Rabbit,” and he tracked down the perfect dress.
It’s a vibrant red, strapless, and has a slit to my upper thigh on the right side.
And true to Matthew’s and Katya’s words, it fits like a glove.
It’s practically painted on without looking slutty.
It’s sexy as hell, but with the matte finish to the fabric and the elegant cut and structure you find with couture, it’s still sophisticated. Check and check.
We finish the look with strappy gold heels, wide gold cuffs on each wrist, and gold earrings.
“Should we add a necklace?” I ask, touching the bare skin at my throat.
“No,” Katya insists. “I think that will be too much jewelry, plus leaving the area blank lets the eyes wander to your cleavage, which is giving chef’s kiss vibes.”
I smirk. Good.
“Asher is just about ready, how are we doing in here, ladies?” Matthew asks, poking his head in.
“I’m ready.”
His mouth pops open. “Well fuck me sideways; we did it. We fucking did it. And in one day no less. You look amazing, Ella.”
Andre and Trenton come back into the room, and we all do a little celebratory cheer.
“Thank you, everyone. I know pulling this together in one day is a goddamn miracle, and I couldn’t have done it without all of you. I’m so grateful to have the best team in the world.”
“Ah, we love you too, darling.” Matthew checks his watch. “It’s time to go.”
I let out a nervous breath.
Let’s hope this works.