Silas Hale, the youngest billionaire and CEO of Hale Inc., has transformed his bleak childhood memories into a global empire of innovative, welcoming hotels. Known for his ruthless perfectionism, Silas's life changes when he hires Vivienne Onaïs as...
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I was perhaps at war. With myself and my own clothes.
I didn't normally worry about clothing choices. I loved fashion too much to the point I constantly bought clothes for different occasions.
Yet, potential outfits were flying past my face as I threw them away in rejection and pure frustration. Stumbling away from my closet, the back of my legs eventually hit my bed before I plopped down.
I already fumbled the last time I was on camera with Silas. I had no idea how I would act on a date. With Silas. It's just for the show. I tried repeating in my head.
I glanced down at my bedroom floor, clothing scattered everywhere, evidence of my paranoia. I grimaced. Yep, just for the show.
I sighed loudly, the palms of my hands pressed onto my eyes before I dragged them down my face. "Get it over with, Vivienne."
Jumping back up, I approached my closet once more, eyeing the last few dresses inside. My nose scrunched at all the choices left and I pushed the hangers to the side. Attention suddenly caught by a strapless jumpsuit, my eyes widened. Snatching it out, I screamed in glee, my mind sorting out the whole outfit down to accessories and hair.
My body went into auto-pilot, thoughts about the date shut out as my love for dressing up shined through.
Two hours and twenty pep talks later, I was finally ready.
And somehow I still felt messy like the room I left in my apartment.
I was so tense, I arrived early at the venue. It was dark out and a little chilly, the curly strands of my twists grazing the side of my face. Burgundy red lights surrounded the front of the building, illuminating the roses wrapped around the italic letters of The Rouge.
My heartbeat strummed through my veins, noticing the cameramen still preparing their equipment. They probably rented out the place for filming.
Do not force myself? Yeah right.
I hovered near the entrance, the glass door reflecting my figure back at me– the jumpsuit hugging my frame nicely, the soft sheen of my shoulders under the lights and the slight twinkle of my gold jewellery. Rolling my lips slightly in my mouth so as not to ruin my pink lip gloss, I tried to scope the interior for a particular person but failed. Was he inside?
I rolled my eyes at myself still not entering the restaurant. Did I need someone to hold my hand too? Jesus.
I held my purse tight and walked inside. The smell of cedar and a touch of wood polisher welcomed me in one breath. It was warm, my eyes catching sight of the open flame ovens. While lovely, the darker ambiance and dimly lit lights made sure I couldn't see shit.
"Miss Vivienne?" A young woman called my name. My head turned towards her and she beckoned me to the side. She started with placing the small microphone in the correct position and going over my cues. It was simple really– countdown, walk towards table and Silas, have date and filming cuts.
