Page 7 of Ensnared
"She'll have everything you need. She should be there by 7 p.m."
Mr. Ashworth..." I tried once more, but he cut me off sharply.
"Colson!" he snapped. "When we're in private, you call me by my given name."
I nodded, my voice barely audible. "Thank you."
"You're dismissed."
I rose quickly, hurrying from his office in a daze. As I passed Simone's office, she hissed. "Oh, Joey," and it barely registered.
Avoiding the elevator, I took the stairs down two flights, my mind reeling. I longed to talk to someone, but Logan was always swamped with work, and my mother never answered her phone during her shift. My poverty status at Windmere had left me friendless, and by the time I reached Yale, I was too set in my solitary ways to change.
This whole situation had me on edge. I wanted to run away, pack my things and use the few dollars I saved to start another life somewhere. But actions have consequences, and my parents and brother would be the recipients of Colson’s rage. I couldn’t risk it.
Chapter 3
The doorbell chimed at precisely 7 p.m., and I opened it to find a statuesque blonde woman with piercing blue eyes and her petite brunette assistant laden with garment bags.
"Josephine Shaw?" the blonde asked, her Russian accent thick and melodious.
I nodded, suddenly feeling small and unkempt. "Yes, that's me."
A fit of embarrassment hit me. I was glad my mother was working late, Logan went out with friends and my father was smoking cigars with a couple of his crew members in the equipment shed.
"Excellent. I am Evelina Kournova, Mr. Ashworth's personal stylist. This is my assistant, Mila. May we come in?"
Before I could fully process what was happening, my tiny living room had been transformed into an impromptu dressing room. Mila efficiently draped twelve stunning gowns over the couches and kitchen chairs while Evelina circled me, her gaze appraising.
"Strip down to your undergarments, please," Evelina instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument.
As I complied, feeling exposed and vulnerable, Evelina nodded approvingly. "Good, good. We start with this one."
The next hour passed in a blur of silk, tulle, and sequins. I felt like a living doll, being dressed and redressed at Evelina's whim.
The first gown was a deep emerald silk that clung to my curves before flaring out dramatically at the knees. As Evelina zipped me in, she murmured, "Colson loves green. It reminds him of money."
I grimaced at the implication but was distracted by the towering stilettos Mila slipped onto my feet – black patent leather with red soles that made me wobble precariously.
"Next," Evelina declared, already reaching for another dress.
This time, it was a backless red number with a dangerously high slit. The fabric whispered against my skin as Evelina adjusted the straps.
"Too provocative," she muttered, shaking her head. "We want to entice, not overwhelm."
As she helped me out of the dress, I couldn't help but ask, "Do you do this for all of Colson's... potential fiancées?"
Evelina's eyes met mine in the mirror, a flicker of something – pity? amusement? – passing through them. "No, milayadarling. You are... special."
Before I could probe further, I was being laced into a midnight blue gown adorned with tiny crystals that caught the light with every movement. The accompanying shoes were silver strappysandals with heels so thin I feared they might snap under my weight.
"This," Evelina breathed, "this is the one."
As I gazed at my reflection, barely recognizing the elegant woman staring back at me, a chill ran down my spine. I looked like I belonged in Colson's world now, but at what cost?
"Perfect," Evelina declared, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Mr. Ashworth will be most pleased."
As they packed up the chosen dress and shoes, leaving a couple of others behind just in case, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just taken another step deeper into a world I might never be able to escape.
