JOAN’S POV
I woke up to the sound of soft murmurs and the click of heels against the floor. My eyes fluttered open, and I was immediately greeted by a group of women surrounding my bed.
It took a moment for my brain to catch up to what was happening. Was I still dreaming?
“Good morning, Miss Joan,” a voice said from the foot of my bed.
I blinked, trying to make sense of the scene in front of me. Standing in the center was Miss Sullivan, who had a smile on her face.
“Good morning, ma’am” I murmured.
“Time to get up. We’ve got a lot to do today.”
“W-what?” I mumbled, still groggy.
I looked at the women standing around me. All of them smiled as though they had been waiting for this moment their entire lives. These women were glamorous looking. With their lovely looks, designer dresses, perfectly styled hair, flawless make up- they looked like they had just stepped out of a magazine.
Who are they? What are they they doing here?
Ms Sullivan spoke up again “These ladies are your glam team for the day. We need you to be ready for the outing with Sir Derrick, and we can’t waste any time.”
Glam team? For me?
My heart started to race as I pushed myself upright in bed. It wasn’t until the women stepped forward that it hit me-these were not just any women. They were influencers and models I had seen on Instagram. I recognized them immediately. The kind of girls whose lives looked like glossy magazine spreads, full of perfect lighting and expensive vacations.
“Oh my God,” I breathed, eyes wide.
I recognized one of the girls instantly-Just Jasmine, a beauty influencer with millions of followers. I had watched her tutorials, admired her makeup skills from afar, and now she was standing right in front of me, about to do my makeup.
“Shall we get started?” Jasmine smiled warmly, gesturing for me to sit in the chair that had been pulled in front of a vanity mirror.
My head was still spinning, but I nodded, slipping out of bed and sitting down.
The team worked quickly and transforming me bit by bit. My hair was expertly styled, twisted and curled in ways I never thought possible. The makeup process was a blur of brushes, powders, and palettes. Jasmine and the others moved around me like professionals in an art studio, each working on their part to make me… well, someone entirely different.
I watched in awe as my reflection slowly morphed into a version of myself I didn’t recognize. I didn’t even look like me.
“I can’t believe this is me,” I whispered as I glanced at the mirror.
My usual casual look was replaced by something straight out of a fashion shoot. My skin glowed, my eyes popped, and my hair fell down in soft waves that looked effortless, yet I knew had taken at least an hour to perfect.
“You’re gorgeous,” one of the ladies said, clipping a final strand of hair into place. “And we’re not even done yet.”
Just as I was beginning to adjust to this new version of myself, the door opened again, and a man stepped in. He had a clipboard in hand. He was dressed in a white corporate shirt tucked in black pants. He looked like someone who had his life together in every possible way.
“Good morning, Joan,” he greeted me with a smile. “I’m David, head of PR. We’re going to go over a few things before your outing.”
My stomach flipped. Outing. With sir Derrick. It was all too much.
He had a PR team? Of course, he did.
David sensed my anxiety immediately.
“Hey, don’t worry,” he said in a calm tone, taking a seat next to me. “I know this can feel overwhelming. But you’re going to do great, alright? You just need to remember a few things.”
He began explaining the basics-poise, composure, how to handle being in the public eye.
“You’ll need to look natural, like you’ve done this a hundred times. You need to fake it till you make it. Make people think you guys have been dating. Relax, smile, and most importantly, stay close to Derrick. You two need to sell the story of being a couple.”
I swallowed hard, nodding as though I understood, but inside, I was panicking. I wasn’t used to this world. I was Joan, the maid-not someone who dated high-profile men like Sir Derrick.
“I’m not sure I can pull this off,” I muttered
David smiled “Everyone feels that way at first. But trust me, you’ve got this. Just follow Sir Derrick’s lead. He knows what to do.”
As if that was supposed to calm me down.
Sir Derrick wasn’t exactly the warm, reassuring type. But I appreciated David’s efforts, and his calm demeanor did ease my nerves a little. After about thirty minutes of listening to him coach me on how to behave, how to smile, and how to avoid paparazzi traps, I was finally ready.
By the time the glam team was finished, I was unrecognizable.
My hair was perfectly styled, my makeup flawless, and the designer dress I had been dressed in clung to my body in all the right places. The jewelry glittered around my neck and wrists, making me feel like someone out of a fairy tale.
I looked like a whole different person.
When I finally stood and looked in the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me. She looked like someone who belonged in sir Derrick’s world-elegant and poised.
I was escorted downstairs by the team. As I walked, David kept giving me more pointers. As I descended the stairs, my heart began to pound harder.
Waiting for us outside was sir Derrick. He stood by the open door of a sleek black limo, dressed in a perfect suit that made him look even more intimidatingly handsome than usual.
The sight of him made me gasp. The butterflies in my stomach flipped more than usual.
How could someone be so gorgeous?
He rested against the limo, looking down at his phone. His hair was tousled in the best way possible effortless even. His suit gripped his muscles.
He just stood there with his phone in his hand but confidence radiated off him in waves. His presence alone was commanding.
I was drawn to this man in ways I couldn’t explain or even begin to.
I took a deep breath. I could do this. I had to.
David and his team were nearby, watching like hawks as I approached. David gave me a subtle nod, reminding me of everything he had drilled into my head about composure.
“Ready?” Sir Derrick asked me.
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I was more ready to go or to run.
The limo ride was quiet. Derrick sitting close enough to me was enough to make my heart beat faster. The scent of his cologne filled my nose. I had the urge to go closer to him.
David and a few girls from the glam team followed us. David kept making calls and making arrangements.
“You’ll need to sell it,” he said to us “People need to believe you two are together. We’ve tipped off the paparazzi, so they’ll be waiting when you arrive.”
Sell it. Right.
The restaurant where we were headed was an upscale place in the city. I had heard of it countless times on social media. It was exclusively for the rich and famous.
When the limo pulled up outside, I could already see the flashing cameras, the crowd of photographers eager for a shot of Sir Derrick and his ‘date.’
The ladies did some last-minute touch-ups on me before we stepped out.
“Let’s get this over with,” Sir Derriick murmured as he reached for my hand, his fingers brushing against mine.
The contact sent an unexpected shiver through me. My heart skipped a beat, and I cursed myself for reacting to him in such a way.
He was cold, detached-this was all fake. Yet, the heat of his skin against mine made my pulse race.
My nerves were buzzing and my stomach flipped as Derrick opened the door and stepped out first.
Then it was my turn.
Derrick held out his hand for me again, tightening his fingers around mine as I stepped out of the car.
“Let’s get through this,” he muttered under his breath.
I tried to focus on David’s advice-head high, shoulders back, smile.
But the moment we were surrounded by the blinding flash of cameras, I couldn’t help but feel nervous again.
The paparazzi were relentless. They kept asking questions. Their cameras kept clicking as Sir Derrick led me into the restaurant.
I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. Sir Derrick, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected. His hand stayed firmly around mine as he guided me toward the entrance, ignoring the questions being thrown his way.
Once inside, I exhaled, trying to shake off the nervousness I felt.
This was only the beginning, I reminded myself.
We were led to our reserved seats for brunch. I did my best to remember everything David had told me, but halfway through the meal, a waitress approached our table. Her eyes were locked on sir Derrick.
“Mr Stonewood, it’s such an honor to serve you tonight,” she gushed, leaning in far too close. “If there’s anything you need, anything at all…”
I watched as she shamelessly flirted with him. I gripped the glass I was holing tightly. For some reason, my stomach twisted.
But Derrick barely looked at her.
“We’re fine,” he said coldly, not even bothering to glance in her direction.
The waitress looked embarrassed. She quickly scurried away. But before I could feel any relief, the paparazzi found their way inside the restaurant. Cameras flashed again. Their voices were louder than ever. Questions were shouted at us, and I could feel my composure slipping.
Sir Derrick’s arm suddenly wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him. The gesture caught me off guard, and I gasped at the sudden contact.
“Let’s go,” he said softly in my ear.
He led me out of the restaurant, his grip around my waist firm as the paparazzi swarmed around us. My heart raced as we hurried back to the limo. The flashing lights and intrusive questions followed us until the car doors closed behind us.
The moment we were inside, I let out a shaky breath. My body still buzzed from the chaos of the what just happened.
Sir Derrick didn’t say a word.
As the limo began to move, all I could think about was the feeling of his hand on my waist.