Page 49 of Tamed By You

“No problem, Diana. Happy to help.”

I head to the dressing room and slide off the heels, thankful I finally have a moment of silence and time alone. I start pulling pins from my hair, my hands a little shaky, looking at my heavilymade-up face in the Hollywood-style mirror. I hate dressing rooms; they hold nothing but bad memories of a life I’d like to forget.

When I turned up at work this morning, I didn't expect to be modeling part of the collection. The new model we had booked was a no show and as luck would have it, I was the same height and size as the model, and bonus points, I was blonde and had experience.

I wasn't really asked, more informed, that I would be in hair and make-up, so I did what I do best, I painted on a fake smile and did what I was trained to do—pretend I was happy; pretend I was okay.

I take a wipe from the basket of products and start to remove the layers of makeup. Staring at my reflection, I don't see my face in the mirror, I see young Ali; the Ali caked in make up with a sparkly crown adorned on her head. The Ali forced into pageants by her mother in order to make a quick buck that I never saw a dime of. I was my mother's cash cow. If she could make money from me, she did. Modeling, pageants, even talent shows, and I hated every second of it.

I despised everything about that life. I did my last pageant when I was fifteen, I won the crown and swore I would never do it again. That pageant turned my world upside down. A familiar sting hits my chest and I shake my head, trying to rid my mind of the dark memories that begin to swirl in my head. It’s true, pretty hurts and some days I wish I didn’t look the way I do because, until I took control and only let people see the parts of me, I allow, being pretty ruined my life.

I look down to where my body feels like it’s burning. My chest is red raw. I’m scratching again. Suddenly my dress feels too tight for my body, like it's made of steel, weighing me down. That feeling of gasping for air hits me from nowhere. I claw atthe zipper, not caring if I rip it, tearing the fabric off my body, throwing it away from me like it's on fire while my head swims.

“You’re so pretty. Look how pretty you are.”Their venomous voices echo in my head.“We won, Alice, we won.”

I search for my purse, pulling my phone free when I find it and sinking to the floor, bringing my knees to my chest, cradling them. Sitting in only my bra and panties, I rock back and forth, breathing in and out. Tears falling down my make-up free cheeks. I shakily select Gabby’s number and she answers on the second ring.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hey… erm, are you home tonight?” I ask keeping my voice as light as I can.

“No, sorry. I’m seeing Patrick then heading to my parents for the weekend. Are you okay? Do you need me to cancel?”

Yes, but no.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. I just got my period; you know what it's like.”

She chuckles through the phone.

“I was thinking cheesecake and movies, but I can do that by myself. Go, enjoy your weekend. I’ll see you Sunday, yeah?” Tears now streaming down my face at the knowledge I will be alone tonight.

“You sure will. Call me if you need me.”

“I will. Love you. Bye.”

“Love you. Bye.”

I drop the phone to the floor.

“Fuck,” I hiss, a sob escaping me. I don't want to bother Ria. She has the wedding in a few days, so she doesn't need to be worrying about me. I know she'll drop everything and I’m not doing that to her, she's been through enough. And Gabby, she’s finally getting out there and dating. I’m not ruining that for her by asking her to come babysit me. No, I’m okay on my own.

The idea of callinghimflits through my mind. No, it’s just sex, I’m not calling Harry. I'm a big girl and I can do this. I don’t need rescuing.

“In and out, Ali, come on, in and out.” I soothe myself filling my lungs and letting it out slowly until breathing becomes a little easier and the tightness in my chest eases.

I swipe the tears from my cheeks and slowly stand, making my way over to the dressing table.

Dark smudges sit under my eyes where I didn’t wipe all the mascara away, my cheeks are stained with tears. I hate her, hate them. But they will not win. They will not ruin the rest of my life. They took away the biggest parts of me, leaving me so broken and shattered that I spent years rebuilding myself, but I won't let them take the rest of me.

I take another makeup wipe and clean my face. Putting some light makeup on, enough to hide the parts I fight daily to keep hidden. I plaster on the biggest smile I can manage and stare back at my reflection. A smile I have perfected over the years. I get dressed, pick up my purse, and leave the dressing room, heading for the elevator, smiling at colleagues like I didn't just let the darkest parts of me take over and try to break me. Again.

Chapter Twenty

Harry

It's Friday, and usually, I'd be at The Boardroom, but after this week and trying to figure out why we have been missing money from our accounts the past few months, my brain is fried. Jack and Ria’s rehearsal dinner and wedding are next week, so I decide I’m in need of a quiet weekend. But quiet weekends aren't really my thing and there’s only one way I want to relax.

I fire a text to the feisty blonde that seems to consume my every waking moment as well as my dreams. She runs through my mind in her six-inch heels like a movie on repeat.

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