At quarter to three the next day, Holly heard a firm rapping at her front door. When she looked out of the peephole, she saw an imposing man in a suit standing on her landing.
“Can I help you?” she asked through the door, suddenly thinking about all the murders her mother had told her about. At over six feet tall, and more than three hundred pounds of pure muscle, there would be nothing stopping him from snapping her in half like a twig. A pair of beefy hands were clasped in military fashion at his waist. The man’s neck alone was thicker than one of Holly’s thighs. For a moment, Holly considered making a mad dash for her phone.
“I am here to collect Miss Holly for her appointment. I’m Rick, Mr. Cantrell’s driver.” His voice, which was soft and meek sounding, was in stark contrast to his daunting figure.
Holly opened the door a crack, wide enough for Rick to pass her an embossed business card. He was indeed Jackson’s driver and bodyguard. “Why did he send me a driver? I could have taken a taxi.”
“Mr. Cantrell wants his fiancée to be expertly taken care of,” Rick explained as he stepped aside to allow Holly to open the door and exit her apartment. “He has informed me of your arrangement and had entrusted me as your personal bodyguard and driver for the remainder of your agreement.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek new credit card. “Mr. Cantrell also had this printed for your use. It has no limit and you can charge whatever you need.”
She took the card that was engraved with her name. It was real, but the feelings of the hard plastic in her hand felt unnatural. “I can’t accept this.”
“It’s already been arranged. It’s part of your new salary.”
“Wow, okay.”
“Now, we really must be going or you’ll be late.”
Holly snapped back into focus. “Right, of course.” She went to the kitchen and grabbed her purse and keys. As soon as the front door was locked behind her, Rick led the way down the stairs and opened the door onto the street after taking a quick peek around. He was thorough.
Holly blushed as she saw the sleek, black town car parked in front of her building and muttered a quiet thanks when Rick opened the back door for her. As soon as he was inside and they began their drive, she felt increasingly more awkward. She wasn’t used to being driven around like royalty and she wasn’t really sure why her boss would think she was in need of protection. “Um, Rick? Can I ask you something?”
“Anything, Miss Holly,” he answered, never taking his eyes off the road.
“Why do I need a bodyguard?”
“Mr. Cantrell is a very important man. There are many people who would like to ruin his businesses. While you are in no danger, I am here as a precaution.”
His words did nothing to ease her worries. “Then is Mr. Cantrell in danger?”
“He, too, has a guard to shadow him on business trips and various events. I am his usual guard, but he placed me with you until your arrangement comes to a close.”
“So, you know about us being—”
“Not really in a relationship?” Rick offered. “I know everything.”
“I guess he really trusts you.”
“I have worked for Mr. Cantrell for a long time. He’s a good boss and I’m happy to be in his employment.”
“Did he tell you what he wants done with me today at the salon?”
“No, but I assume he has called ahead to arrange your treatments.” He pulled over in front of a brightly lit salon that boasted a black and white sign displaying the name ‘Cosmo’s’. Rick exited the car and opened the door for Holly before she even had her seatbelt off. Holly wondered if they were even allowed to park on the side of the road like this, but assumed her boss had some sort of special billionaire license plate or something. “I’ll be waiting just outside. If you feel there is any danger, just raise your arm above your head or dial the number two on your phone. That’s the speed dial to my cellphone.”
“You really don’t have to wait here for me. I would feel really bad knowing you were just sitting in here while I was getting my nails done or whatever.”
“It’s my job. Don’t worry about me.”
“Can’t you just come in?”
“If that would make you feel safer, then I will.”
“No, I mean, there must be some kind of massage for men or a pedicure.”
Rick raised his bushy eyebrows. “You want me to actually attend a spa appointment?”
She shrugged. “Why not? I’m sure Mr. Cantrell won’t mind. If this card is really for me to charge whatever I want, then I want you to come in and enjoy yourself. I really can’t get pampered while you’re sitting out here in the car.”
“Whatever you want, Miss Holly,” he said, resigning himself to his fate.
The salon was more than Holly could have imagined. The waiting room was comfortable with soft purple couches and elegant paintings of women with elaborate hairstyles. A stone fountain made up of two fat cherubs holding vases sat in the center of the room and poured water that complemented the gentle violin music. It was much different than the little discount shop Holly used to go to back in Michigan.
A spindly woman in black greeted them as soon as they entered. “Good afternoon. Holly, I presume?”
“Um, yes. Jackson Cantrell made this appointment for me.”
Her mouth split into a thin smile. “Of course. We have all been in a tizzy imagining the woman who has stolen the heart of Jackson Cantrell.” The woman’s voice was unnaturally high.
Holly reddened and she could have sworn she heard Rick cough to cover up a short chuckle. “I guess he already told you guys what I’m coming in for?”
“No, he merely asked us to set aside a few hours for whatever treatments you would like.” She produced a heavy leather-bound book from behind the desk and handed it to her. “Take your time and select whatever you would like from our menu.”
There were lists and lists of different facials, mud baths, steam massages—there was no way she would ever know what to choose. “I’m not really a spa person. Is there anything you would suggest?”
The woman looked her over carefully. “I would suggest a trip to the steam room, the lotus facial, manicure, pedicure, trim up the hair, shine treatment to bring back some light and brightness, eyebrow waxing…let’s just make it a full body wax, perhaps a full body seaweed wrap?”
“No seaweed, and I am not a big fan of steam rooms either.” Holly looked up at Rick. “I’m getting him a massage, too, or whatever else he wants.”
“Of course.” The woman nodded, bringing her hand up to her ear to press a button on her headset. “The Cantrell appointment is ready for her treatments and I’m sending in a gentleman for a deep tissue massage.”
***
“Daaahling,” Cosmo cooed, lifting up several strands of Holly’s blonde hair. “Lovely color, but it is clear you and conditioner are not on speaking terms.”
“I condition,” Holly protested from her spot in Cosmo’s salon chair. In the past two hours, she had been massaged, waxed, had a floral-smelling facial, and had her nails shaped perfectly and coated in pale pink polish. Now she was sitting with the salon master himself, waiting for him to work his magic.
“No, daaahling, do not lie to Cosmo. Cosmo knows all.” The thin man danced around the chair, randomly tilting her head and whispering something to his assistant. “Cosmo will start with a deep conditioner followed by a shine serum. Your hair is so dead, Cosmo will have to bring in the Jaws of Life to save it!”
“Is it really that bad?” she asked, looking up at his perfectly tanned face.
He nodded, his Botoxed skin making a perfect mask. “Yes, but Cosmo will fix. Cosmo will turn this bird’s nest into a golden cascade of light and glory.” He picked up a bottle and squirted the green contents into his hand. “Now, let’s begin.”
***
“All finished, Miss Holly?” Rick asked as she exited the salon.
“Yes, did you like your massage?”
He smiled. “Very much so, thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, thank Mr. Cantrell.” She giggled, sliding into the back seat. Once inside, she inspected herself in her compact mirror. The woman looking back at her was a far cry from the mousy blonde she’d been when she first arrived in the city. Her hair was thick and healthy, falling down past her shoulders in beautiful waves, while her skin had a natural glow. Cosmo had done her makeup in gentle, earthy tones that accented her features perfectly without taking away from them. He had even showed her a few tips and bagged up some pallets for her to take. Holly didn’t look like a different person, exactly, just a polished version of her ideal self.
As soon as Rick dropped her off at her front door, it was time for her to get ready for dinner. Holly stared at her closet. There was a big difference between the girl from Michigan who lived in jeans and sweaters, and the girl who was going out to a fancy dinner in New York City dressed to the nines. Her new clothes were all structured silk dresses in garment bags and skirts covered in lace with high heels that gave her an extra few inches in height that she’d never had before. At first, she was worried about the job her boss had given her, but what could be so bad about getting paid to dress up and go out to dinner?
She smiled as she flipped through the hangers and selected a random garment bag to unzip. Holly picked a dark blue dress with a matching lace overlay that was form fitting, but came to the knee and covered up to her collarbone, making it conservative enough. The three-quarter sleeves also added to the beauty of the simple dress, which she topped off with a pair of muted gold pumps. When she saw herself in a full-length mirror, she was stunned with what she saw. The woman who looked back at her was absolutely perfect and would have been at home in high society. Now it was up to her to play the part.
***
Jackson sat alone at their table at the Plaza Hotel waiting for Holly and his mother to arrive. He tapped his fingers against the tablecloth, an impatient habit he was likely to never break. While his plan seemed perfect on the drive over, it now gave him uncharacteristic anxiety. His mother was a difficult woman to get along with, let alone please, and he wasn’t sure if Holly was truly up to the task. Either way, it was too late to turn back.
As his gaze skimmed the dining room, he saw a woman enter. He blinked as a waiter led her closer. This woman was gorgeous—hourglass body, shiny blonde hair that framed a flawlessly made-up face, and sky-high legs clearly visible between the hem of a designer dress and a pair of Louboutin shoes.
“Holly?” he whispered, his voice oddly raspy. He stood to greet her, kissing her on the cheek. His lips lingered a moment longer than he intended. “Holly, you look fantastic.”
“Thank you, sir…I mean, Jackson.” She blushed prettily, looking down at the floor. “So, I fit the part?”
“Perfectly,” he told her, pulling out her chair.
Holly sat down, placing her gold clutch in the table. “Where’s your mother? Isn’t she joining us?”
“Momentarily.” Jackson glanced around the dining room, almost wishing his mother wasn’t on her way. Holly was far more exquisite than he’d originally thought possible, and he found himself wishing he could have his fiancée all to himself. “She’s usually late for things, but I needed to give you something, anyway.”
“Give me what? I have a phone, a closet full of clothes, and overtime pay.”
He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a ring. “It occurred to me today that, although you’re dressed like my fiancée, you hardly look like one without a ring.”
“Oh, my.” Holly reached out and slipped the golden band onto her perfectly manicured finger. It featured a large oval diamond flanked by smaller, circular stones on either side.
“Does it fit the part?” he teased, content that she seemed so star-struck.
“It’s so…big.”
Jackson raised an eyebrow in amusement. “I give you an eighty-thousand dollar engagement ring and that’s your reaction? You really are a strange woman, Holly.”
Holly sputtered. “Eighty thousand dollars? Are you serious?”
“I make a good deal of money. I couldn’t have my fiancée running around with a pitiful rock on her hand. It would make me look like quite the miser.” It was true. When he’d called up his jeweler to prepare a sheet of selections, he thought the old man would have a stroke. Even someone whose business it was to deal with diamonds couldn’t contain his disbelief.
“But was it really necessary to buy an actual ring? You could have totally went to Canal Street and got a fake one for a few dollars.”
He shook his head. “Mother would notice. That woman knows a thing or two about diamonds.” He suddenly stood with a smile. “Speak of the devil.”
“My boy,” the woman said in a French accent.
Jackson stood, kissing his mother on both cheeks. “Mother.”
He watched as Holly rose from her seat. The two women were polar opposites. While Holly was curvaceous and golden, his mother had the spindly body of a model with fashionably graying black hair and a steely gaze.
“You must be Holly.”
Holly smiled and held out her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Cantrell.”
She waved her hand in exasperation and took the seat Jackson offered her. “Please, call me Ursula. I cannot stand to feel old.”
“You’re hardly old, Mother,” Jackson reminded her with a grin.
“Now that my son is getting married, I certainly feel that way.” She called a waiter over and ordered a bottle of Cristal. “There are no celebrations without fine champagne. Now, Holly, tell me about you. To be honest, I never heard of you until a week ago.”
Holly bit her lip as she sat. “What would you like to know?”
“Everything,” Ursula insisted as the waiter returned with their champagne. “You were such a secret.”
“Well I, um…” Holly glanced at Jackson, who immediately noticed her distress.
“There weren’t any secrets, Mother,” Jackson stated calmly, trying to diffuse the situation. “I merely waited to tell you about Holly until I was sure that our relationship would work.”
“Good.” Ursula took a sip of her drink, her red lips miraculously not leaving a mark on the spotless glass. “You know how I hate to have my time wasted. But, still, I would like to know about you, Holly. Did you go to school? Do you live in the city? What do your parents do?” She trained her eyes on Holly, waiting.
Holly looked over at Jackson, who gave her an encouraging nod. They hadn’t gone over an exact script, but he was sure she could figure it out. In fact, having her pressed by his mother was the perfect test. If Holly could make it through Ursula’s interrogation, she would be ready for the media. “My parents are in the restaurant business.”
“Restaurateurs?” Ursula sounded impressed. “Family business, I assume?”
Holly nodded. “Yes, back home in Michigan.”
“You’re from Michigan?” Ursula raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
Jackson saw Holly square her shoulders, taking on a more confident look. “Yes, but I’ve been in New York for a while now.”
“And what do you do with yourself now that you’re here?”
“Oh, this and that,” Holly answered. Jackson saw her recently acquired strength dwindle.
“So, no career then?”
Holly’s eyes widened. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.”
“Holly’s an aspiring event planner,” Jackson said, recalling one of their previous conversations. “She’s very creative.”
“Then you’re certainly in the perfect city. Perhaps I’ll set you up with one or two of my friends. They are always having parties and such.” Ursula waved her hand again and motioned for Jackson to top off her glass.
Holly’s mouth opened in surprise. “That would be amazing. Thank you so much.”
“Of course. We are famille now,” she told her with finality as the waiter came to take their orders.
Jackson squeezed Holly’s hand under the table, surprising himself with the organic feel of the motion. “You’re doing great,” he whispered as his mother busied herself with ordering complicated dishes for the table.
“Now,” Ursula said as the waiter hurried away. “Let me see it.”
“See what?” Holly asked.
Ursula rolled her eyes. “The ring, silly girl.”
“Oh, right.” Holly lifted her hand for Ursula’s inspection, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.
“It is gorgeous, my son.” Ursula smiled warmly at Jackson. “Tell me, how did it happen?”
“Holly tells it so much better,” Jackson deflected smoothly, curious how she would handle the question. “Don’t you?”
Holly paled, but didn’t miss a beat. “Well, one evening, we decided to go for a walk through the city. We came to Times Square and we stopped in the center, which was strangely empty. Suddenly, I heard music. It was an entire string band. Then, all of the electronic billboards went completely black.” Holly paused and glanced at Jackson. She told a good story. “On the board, I saw a flash of pictures of Jackson and I out to dinner, dancing, at the park, on the beach…and at the end of the slideshow were the words, Holly, will you marry me? When I turned to look at him, he was on one knee with a ring box in his hand.”
Ursula wiped away a stray tear with a red lacquered finger. “Oh, that is très belle, my son. Who knew you were such a romantic?”
“Certainly not me, Mother,” Jackson answered, his face showing a faint trace of astonished amusement. “Certainly not me.”
***
“Holly, you did fantastically,” Jackson told her as he walked her to her door. “It was a rocky start, but after you told her that engagement story, you had her eating out of the palm of your hand! Where did you get that from?”
“I read it in a book.” She blushed and turned her head, causing a stray strand of hair to slide over her cheek.
Jackson fought the urge to tuck the blonde lock behind her ear. “Well, it was perfect. I couldn’t have asked for anything more.”
“I’m glad I’m living up to my boss’s expectations.”
“And more,” he said. Although they had been standing in front of her door for some time, neither made any move to part. “I mean it, Holly. I really appreciate what you’re doing for me.”
“Don’t worry about it. What are personal assistants for?”
“And you’ll be free to take my mother shopping tomorrow, right?”
“Shopping?”
“Yes. I think it’s really all she does,” he explained with some amusement. “The woman has a serious problem.”
“I already have a ton of clothes now. But if that’s what you need me to do, I can go.”
He shook his head with a chuckle. “You are the only girl I’ve ever met who doesn’t like shopping with my money.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot you gave me a credit card.”
“You’re the first girl who’s ever said that, too.” He laughed again, his words truer than he’d like to admit.
“I’ve never had one before. I feel a little weird using it.”
“Rick’s sure glad you decided to at the spa today. I’m pretty sure he’s going to make me add weekly spa visits to his contract.”
“Anything to boost company morale, sir.” Holly grinned.
“Jackson, remember?”
“Right, sorry. It’s going to take some getting used to.”
“Of course.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek, a hasty gesture that he couldn’t help but make. “Goodnight, Holly.”
“Goodnight…Jackson.”