Page 44 of Obsessed Heir

“We’ll need to do a mask.” The makeup artist clucks disapprovingly as she scrutinizes the supermodel’s face. “You didn’t get enough sleep.”

“What did you expect when you called me here at the crack of dawn,” Bronwyn snaps.

I press my lips together to keep my mouth shut. This is hardly the crack of dawn. Though I’m from Texas, so I gained a couple of hours. She might be coming in from another part of the world, where she would just be waking up.

“You had a schedule delivered to your suite,” Holly states with a tone of authority. “I expect you to keep to the itinerary going forward.”

“Barron can vouch for what time I came in,” Bronwyn taunts with a smirk.

“He’s so hot,” someone mentions.

“I’d do him.” Someone else giggles.

Barron…my chest feels suddenly hollow. I’ve seen rare pictures of him with a woman on his arm. But she’s always been beautiful. Bronwyn would certainly fit his taste.

I shouldn’t be feeling this. The man hates me. He glares at me like he wishes I’d go up in flames.

But the flames inside me have nothing to do with anger.

“Given how crowded the club was, I doubt Barron noticed what time you left,” Holly replies, expertly calling Bronwyn’s bluff.

The model lets out a very unladylike snort.

I have the urge to make a run for it and come back once things have settled down. But the attendants continue as if nothing’s happened. Before I can decide what to do, the makeup artist comes over.

“Well, let me take a look over here.” She looms over me, scrutinizing my bare face.

Every insecurity about my body bubbles up inside me. To top it off, I didn’t sleep well last night, so I brace myself for a firm dressing down.

After a moment of scrutiny, she gives me a warm, reassuring smile. “Fresh faced and ready to go.”

An exaggerated exhale comes from Bronwyn’s station. My imagination pairs it with an eye-roll, dampening the smile forming on my lips.

“What skin care routine do you normally follow, Abby?” Gigi asks, gently tilting my chin.

Routine? My tummy drops again. These people will probably think I’m nothing more than a bumpkin after this.

“I…I just wash my face and use a moisturizing lotion.” I manage not to cringe as I wait, half expecting a round of laughter from the others.

“Ah, youth.” She releases my chin, giving me a gentle smile. “Women would do anything for that fresh dewy glow on their skin.”

“And they’d pay a fortune,” Holly says under her breath.

“Let’s get you waxed,” Gigi directs, “so you don’t ruin my masterpiece.”

I catch a glimpse of Bronwyn shooting me a side glance of thinly veiled contempt.

Chapter Seventeen

Barron

Ipull on my suit jacket, the fabric sliding over my shoulders to sit perfectly, as only a tailored suit can. While it’s much more formal than what I had anticipated, Holly’s dead set on this look for today’s photo shoot.

Regardless of how many times I point out that today’s billionaires, like Elon Musk, don’t typically run around in a suit and tie, it hasn’t changed her mind.

With a resigned sigh, I double-check the knot on my tie before heading out. The muted notes of an old rock song filter in from below. Well, at least someone is enjoying their afternoon.

As I round the corner into the kitchenette, I spot a basket of fruit sitting in the middle of the counter. A red apple, about the size of my fist, catches my eye. I pluck it off the top as I pass through and take a big bite.

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