Page 123 of Morally Black Betrothal
Kate and I turned to find Ruth in the doorway. I checked my (new) gold watch—a delicate thing from Cartier that Brendan had insisted on packing up yesterday afternoon. It was nearly six o’clock, which meant that if Ruth was back, Brendan wasn’t far behind.
Butterflies awoke in my stomach at the idea.
“All right.” I stepped out of my shoes. The rug felt glorious under my bare feet. “We’ve gotten a lot done.”
“You certainly have,” Ruth agreed as she looked me over.
I even had new clothes for kicking around the house: the organic cashmere blush-pink lounge pants, shirt, and robe had been the most comfortable things to wear in between the more ornate items I’d tried on. And they were still more luxurious than anything I’d brought with me from home.
“You look great,” Ruth said. “Love the hair. The makeup is perfect.”
I glanced in the mirror. This was the “no makeup” look Terence had designed and taught me for day-to-day errands and the most casual moments. For bigger events, he would come back to do my makeup himself, but he hadn’t left before I’d demonstrated my ability to pull off the light contouring, the delicate brush of shadow and mascara, and the nude, glossy lips on my own.
That, combined with the diamond drops and pendant Brendan had given me, along with the soft, shaped waves of hair and glowing skin…Ruth was right. I looked like myself, but better. My blue eyes stood out, my cheekbones were slightly more prominent, and my lips looked plumped and curved, about to smile.
I looked beautiful. Alluring, even.
And that wasn’t something I’d ever thought I would say about myself.
“Thank you.” I decided not to deny it. “The team did a great job. I’m grateful.”
Ruth smiled. “Good. Everything else taken care of too?”
“We decided no on Botox, yes on teeth-bleaching later this week, and Ariane used sugar instead of laser,” Kate replied as she tossed a new scarf onto a pile to be put away in my closet.
I frowned until I realized they were discussing my body hair. Or, to be more accurate, the lack thereof. The truth was, Ariane had ruthlessly taken everything I had but for a small landing strip, but I wasn’t expecting Ruth, of all people, to inquire about those parts of me.
Ruth nodded. “Excellent. She’ll be ready for anything, then.”
I reddened. Was this something Brendan asked her to schedule regularly? Make sure his partners were properly waxed for him? Obviously, she couldn’t know that Brendan wasn’t going to be enjoying the fruits of this particular labor, but it still felt a little strange to think that this might be a result ofhispreferences, not Kate’s. Or mine. After all, I had told them what I wanted too.
“Don’t be embarrassed. His siblings are vicious, if you haven’t noticed,” Ruth informed me. “They’ll look for any imperfection, and the last thing you want is to be a joke at the pool.”
“What—what pool?”
“At their estate in Newport, where the engagement party is being held. You don’t have to go in, of course, but it will be an option. Like I said, you’ll be prepared.”
Oh, thank God. She wasn’t actually managing my vagina for her boss’s sexual pleasure. Ruth was just a girl’s girl and had the decency to think ahead for a pool party.
“Bikinis!” Kate slapped her forehead. “I completely forgot swimwear.” She made another note. “I’ll send some over tomorrow, but we’ll need to try things on properly. In some ways, swimwear is the hardest thing to fit.”
“What time do you think you’ll be able to come next?” Ruth was already whipping out her tablet. “She’s got etiquette lessons in the morning?—”
“Etiquette?” I repeated.
“Table manners, mostly, but also greetings for certain people, things like that. After, Mr. Black insisted she meet with a financial counselor, followed by some time with me to”—Ruth looked up quickly, catching herself—“go over some personal matters.”
By “personal,” I could only guess it was something that the stylist wasn’t in the know about. I still wasn’t sure if Ruth was in on our scheme, but the look in her eye told me she was there to inform me about more details about Brendan himself. Details I would be expected to know as his fiancée—fake or otherwise.
“Eight work?” Kate was saying. “I have clients after ten. And then I need to get back to New York. My little sister just got engaged.”
The two of them conferred a bit more before Kate had to leave, so I decided to excuse myself to check on my bread in the kitchen.
There I found Rosie prepping dinner.
“What’s on the menu tonight?” I asked as I went to check the proofing boxes.
She looked up from where she was mixing a pastry dough on the counter and smiled. “Beef Wellington. Mr. Black’s favorite. You probably already knew.”
