Page 41 of Obsessed Heir

“We’re doing a photo shoot today, and I’d like to enlist your help,” Holly explains to Camille.

“Okay, I’m all yours. What are we aiming for?” Camille readily agrees.

“I’m thinking boudoir photos,” Holly says in a conspiratorial whisper.

Camille gasps in what can only be called delight.

Boudoir?

“That’s a fabulous idea,” she says enthusiastically. “I don’t think I’ve heard about that being available on any other cruise line.”

“That’s what I thought,” Holly agrees with a broad grin.

I glance uncertainly from one excited face to the other, not understanding what this means. Yet, somehow, I have a feeling I’m not going to like it.

“Two or three pieces came to mind when you were here yesterday,” Camille says eagerly.

“Oh?” A nervous chuckle escapes me as I hope Holly doesn’t ask what happened with Barron.

“I figured you’d look banging in this style.” She moves over to a display, flipping through different nighties in pink, purple, and blue.

“You don’t think she can pull off the bolder colors?” Holly asks, with a critical eye in my direction.

And suddenly that spotlight is pointing my way. Camille turns to me. She bites her lip, tilting her head as she considers the question. Stepping closer, she does a more critical inspectionof my face, hair, shoulders, then down to my breasts before she walks behind me.

Ugh, she has to be checking out my butt.

I force myself not to clench, although every muscle is on the verge of doing so. I can’t believe I’m being scrutinized this closely. These women are literally dissecting everything about my appearance and body. Meanwhile, I’m standing here in yesterday’s clothes feeling like a troll.

Miss Opal’s words ring in my mind.Barron and Holly need you for this project.

“Yes,” Camille says thoughtfully. She comes around on my left side. “Yes, with the right hairstyle and makeup, we can definitely make bold colors work.”

“Excellent.” Holly taps her fingertips together, practically beaming. She reaches out for my hand, checking my nails before releasing it. “We’ll have you do hair, nails, and makeup while you’re at the spa.”

What’s next? Will she ask to see my teeth?

“I’m not going to the spa.” I jab my fingers against my slacks. While I keep my nails short and clean, I rarely add color or do anything fancy. “That’s just Miss Opal.”

“You are now. I’ll take care of setting it up.” She picks up her phone, scrolling through contacts.

This is getting a little out of control. I have no idea what Holly knows about me, but clearly it’s not anywhere near reality. Maybe she thinks I have McClelland money, but I don’t. I step closer, trying to keep the conversation private.

“Holly, I can’t spend the day at the spa,” I admit quietly.

“Miss Opal will be there,” she points out reasonably. “Think of it as keeping her company.”

Concern shoots through me. That’s even worse. How am I supposed to explain the spa expenses to Miss Opal?

“What I mean is”—I roll my bottom lip—“I can’t afford to pay for a day at the spa.” I shake my head again. “And I can’t let Miss Opal pay for me either.”

I nearly fainted when I saw the bill the one time she had me go with her. I can’t imagine how much it would be here.

Holly’s expression changes, offering a sympathetic smile. “The spa day was my treat to Miss Opal. And, for you, it’s part of what we’re calling a mini makeover,” she finishes, her eyes sparkling again. “Our new model needs to be at her best.”

It doesn’t make me feel much better. Somehow, I know I’ll end up paying for it in the long run. Hopefully it won’t be something I regret.

“All right,” I concede, stepping aside to give Holly some space and resigning myself to being a part of her plan. I’m just doing what Miss Opal wants, I remind myself because the swarm of butterflies in my tummy is ready to overwhelm me.

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