Never Fall For The Billionaire

The Afternoon Date

Chapter 8: The Afternoon Date

It was a lovely Saturday morning. Too bad I had to waste it on that devil.

Laid out in front of me on my bed were two outfits, dresses, one a frilly rose pink and the other a more sophisticated grass green. Fancy or not fancy, that was the question.

I can't believe myself! I'm actually thinking about what to wear for him, how delusional could I be? And he said to choose one of my nicer clothes! Well, excuse me for wearing such not nice clothes! Then, he even had the courage to say that the date will probably last the entire day! What about my work?! Say that I'm going to take a day off, he said! I'll be lucky enough if they won't fire me tomorrow! I need that job, I need that money! But the real question was, was he worth it? Was he not bothering me anymore worth it?

Yes, it's worth it. I dressed in the casual minty green one. If he doesn't like it then he can deal with it, there's nothing I can do about it.

Turns out I was wrong, he can do something about it.

I arrived at the meeting place inside a cafe at the meeting time, exactly 12 o'clock and not a single second later like he requested. Although, it was more demanding than requesting from my point of view.

He checked me out and decided he didn't like what he was seeing. I ignored him, no use complaining. But then he whipped me out of the cafe and into his car. His amazingly flashy car. People off the streets were staring at it. Then he went and led me inside this fancy salon a few blocks away and snapped his fingers while ordering, "Get her your best complete treatment in under an hour." He threw them a wad of cash and added, "Oh, and new clothes too."

I was shocked. But I was even more shocked at the fact that he just threw them cash like it meant nothing to him. Maybe it did, but I couldn't ignore the fact that there were people that desperately needed that money that he's throwing down the drain! And for such a worthless cause too! Treatment? I do not need any sort of treatment.

Before I could utter a complaint, the manager said, "Yes, sir," and dragged me to their headquarters or whatever it's called. I managed to scream in protest, "Derek! You can't do this to me!" before the double doors closed. He waved me off and sat down onto one of the waiting chairs and started reading a magazine.

In under an hour, exactly 46 minutes, I was standing in the dressing room plucked, massaged, moisturized, and officially polished. On the clothing rack hanging in front of me was an expensive, a bit on the revealing side, girly lace yellow dress. Even to my amateur eyes, I could tell it was very expensive. And there was no way I was wearing that thing. "Can you give me my dress back?" I asked the lady politely.

"I'm very sorry but your dress was disposed of as Mr. Kelter requested."

What?! That little-! "Are there any other choices?" I asked, I might as well just wear the cheapest one I could find.

"I am very sorry again, but Mr. Kelter chose that specific dress for you to wear." He did?! Oh god, there's no use arguing anymore.

A minute passed and I was able to see the final result in the three-way mirror. I had to admit I looked fantastic. Even when the dress showed a bit much, I could handle it I guess. The bigger problem was the color, yellow never looked good on me. It would always wash out my complexion, but this dress did the opposite. It enhanced it. Plus my perfect curls and simple make-up didn't mask me. I was still able to see myself even with the glamour.