Chapter 6

 

 

Diego sent Elena a text when she was halfway to her hotel. All it said was 7 pm. He wanted her to come by his house, not so she could get to know him, or so he could talk with her. This was a date… with a man that could melt her every time she laid eyes on him. She checked herself in the mirror when she pulled into the parking garage. There were lines under her eyes and her hair was about to burst out of her hair tie.

She walked back up to her room. How could she possibly go on a date looking like this? She didn't have anything to wear, the dress from the event had to be returned. What about her face? She looked in the bathroom mirror. Ugh. This wouldn't work.

Diego might have said he wanted a real woman, but no man could handle a woman in her natural state. Elena had enough to buy an outfit and maybe some decent makeup without blowing her budget, but she didn't have any time. It was already four o'clock, and it took almost an hour to drive up to the mansion.

Elena couldn't miss spending time with Diego even if she wanted to. He had too much control over her. The second she resolved to cancel, she'd end up running to her car to drive straight to his mansion. The only choice she had was the kind of impression she wanted to give him. She could walk up with no makeup and a pair of old jeans, or she could attempt to be the kind of woman he couldn't resist.

Elena pulled out her laptop, and it opened up to her profile.

Donovan. The man was a genius. He would fix this. It would cost an arm and a leg, but the man would make her look like a goddess. She hunted him down and sent a message detailing the entire situation. She had barely hit send when her phone started ringing.

“Hello?”

“DIEGO ROJAS!” Donovan shrieked on the other end. “You did not just tell me that you have a date with Diego Rojas.”

“Yes.”

“WHOOO!” He hung up and texted her an address.

Elena freshened up, ran out the door and soon found herself standing in front of a beach house painted bright gold. Sitting in front was a golden sign with the same signature as on Donovan's cards.

“Now!” Elena heard Donovan scream.

“Yes, Donovan.”

“Go!”

The third girl's butt poked out the screen door. Elena walked forward to see what was going on, and laughed when she realized the girl had been bowing to Donovan.

“I am so sorry,” she turned around and ran down the front steps to meet Elena. “I didn't mean to keep you waiting.”

“It's okay.” Elena followed her up the steps where she was met by a limp figure leaning against the door frame smoking a cigarette.

“You're lucky,” Donovan said. “I'm feeling...sexy.” He flipped his cigarette off the porch, turned around and walked inside.

Elena followed him in. He had gutted the whole place, and had mirrors covering every wall. The effect was jarring… like she was being confronted with all of her flaws, in a freaky house of mirrors kind of way. Her chin was too small, and she had love handles sticking out on both sides. She wanted to look away, but everywhere she looked she found another viewpoint, another flaw.

“What do you think?” Donovan studied her.

“Of this place?”

“You don't like it?”

“No. I-uh—”

“Sit down,” he interrupted, pointing to a shampoo station in the corner and dragging her over. Then he pushed her head down and started bombarding her with a burst of scalding hot water. “You're not supposed to like it. The mirrors make you see just how ugly you are. Everyone is ugly, but most people don't get good a look. Once they do, they want to change. A mirror makes you a better person. You want to change?” He added a squirt of shampoo to his hand.

“I—

“Of course you do. You need a mirror in your head too. I tell everyone—watch yourself. You think you know who you are, then somebody puts a mirror up to you and you'll surprise yourself.”

“I like that.”

“Good.” He pushed her up and pulled her by the hand into a stylist chair, and began weaving her hair, and buzzing the girls over for his tools of the trade. He did her hair up in a messy bun like before, only he left a strand hanging near her eyes.

He snapped his fingers so the girls could sound off their praises.

“Come.” He walked her into a back room where she found an array of clothes that would rival any collection.

“You know why I have the girls?”

He flipped through a rack of dresses. “No.”

“They let me know when I'm not doing my best. They all have tells when they lie. Number one blinks too much. Number two licks her lips, and of course, number three stutters.”

“They idolize you.”

“It's all social engineering, darling.”

“Social engineering,” Elena repeated, amazed and sat down on a bench in the back of the room. She might have misjudged the man. He was crazy, and worshiped everything shallow, but even in that vapid space there was a touch of the profound.

“You do a lot of work for the team.”

“I've dressed all the girls. Maricela was the only one I refused.”

“Why?”

“She screamed at me.” He turned around with serious glare. “Nobody screams at Donovan.”

“She attacked me today.”

“I knew she would. She's been wondering about you since they hired you. You be careful with her.” He switched to another rack, pulled out another dress and looked back at her. “Come here. Up!”

She got up so he could hold the dress out. “Good. Go change.”

She took the dress and walked back into the bathroom to change. When she walked out, the girls sounded off and Donovan gave her a spritz of perfume. “Marvelous.” He kissed her on the cheek and sent her away.