“Are you sure you want to wear a wig?” Vivienne Wolf skeptically as she glanced at me with her usually serene face now contorted with disapproval. She certainly had not liked my loony idea the moment it had hatched from my less than lucid mind.

“Yes, it’s necessary.” My heart raced as I studied my calm reflection in the brightly lit cosmetic mirror. Stripped of any artifice, my face flushed with a beautiful glow after the timely back to back facials I’d had for the past few days, making sure I was in my prime best for tonight. Nether region waxed bare, eyebrows groomed and tweaked, shaved and polished on every inch of my body.

Yes, everything was as it should be.

The plan for how to seduce the man I’d had designs on since the beginning of time had materialized when I had been two bottles deep into Dom Perignon. While Vivienne and Blair busied themselves with swaying from one crush to the other, I remained resolute, beholden to one man—the unsmiling, all serious Jared St. James.

We were in Blair’s bedroom in an adjacent vanity area specifically for hair and makeup alone. It was lavishly decorated in pink, black, and gold, the very portrayal of her personality—the bitchy princess. She wasn’t royal, but she was every ounce of the pampered princess—all regal, snobbish, and anyone she deemed stupid would get a serious whiplash from her scathing remarks. She was the only girl of the infamous mogul Hank Rinaldi, who was recently outed by the media as having a bastard hidden in the background.

“That’s the whole point. She has to look different, or he’d immediately recognize her!” Blair Rinaldi irately remarked back at our friend.

She’d been short-tempered lately after breaking up with the twenty-three-year-old João Roberto, the hottest Brazilian man we had ever seen. She had stated she was too young to fall in love and at her blossoming stage. There was too much to experience in life to be caught up in a whirlwind romance and skew her fresh perspective of the future. Although her parents were still married, they lived in separate bedrooms, and her father wasn’t particularly discreet with his mistresses. Her mother had drilled it into her head that no man was to be trusted. And I supposed her mother’s wisdom reflected on how she treated the opposite sex, as if they were simply dispensable. And yet here was Blair a week after breaking that man’s heart, short fused and desperately scouring for a rebound.

Best friends since the age of five, we were thick as thieves, sisters not by blood but a stronger bond that went over and beyond the normal call of friendship. Vivienne and Blair had their fair share of going boy crazy, and through it all, I had been there standing guard, making sure their parents hadn’t had a clue of the kind of mischief they were up to. Both women had their fun, and this time, it was my turn. Little did they know what I had in mind.

Oh, I could be naughty, too. It just had to be with the right person. After years of being teased for being a good girl because I didn’t want to date anyone else, the always designated, straight A student and a certified sober bore was about to wander into the naughty world. One night was all I dreamt of, one night with him. Then I’d fully let go of this grand delusion of loving a man from afar.

“I honestly don’t get why you have to put yourself through all this, Gisele. I’m sure you already know, but there’s a sea of guys who’d die to have you in their life. Why can’t you drop this idea of Jared? Aussie men are hot—I get the obsession—but there’s so many of them out there, babe! You can get one who’s chill and less intimidating. Besides, Jared’s a little too old for you, anyway,” Vivienne remarked.

Vivienne would never understand it. Though she wasn’t prudish, she didn’t like the idea of pursuing men. In her mind, it should be the other way around. We all loved to be chased. I mean, who wouldn’t? But my circumstances were different than theirs. While they lavished on young men’s attention, as did I once in awhile if they were cute and engaging enough, my attention had been held by one man and one man alone for as long as I could remember.

Jared was the only male I had met who wasn’t fascinated by my beauty. And since the man was worth billions, my father’s riches didn’t impress him, either. My father, Peter Weber, was the world’s top richest man. And Jared trailed closely behind him. The two were like father and son, but Jared never spared me a glance. He was always so reserved and only spoke when I politely addressed him, but he never went out of his way to converse with me. I suppose with the nine-year age gap, in his mind, there wasn’t much to discuss with me.

I was more like my mother; Edna Weber had once been Miss Universe, a beauty queen from Brazil, and had caught my father’s eye when he had been about to reach the pinnacle of his success. Though many would argue that she sought him for his riches, their relationship was built on love. I grew up knowing and feeling the love from both of my parents. Well, up until three years ago when my mother died from a throat surgery. My father’s never been the same. The loss of my mother had taken a toll on him in every facet of his life. The once vibrant man now had his brightness dimmed with profound sorrow severely etched around his gaunt face. Before mom died, he had weekends off, but those days were long gone. These days, he spent every waking moment in his company, diligently going through new inventions and ensuring vast development progression in the evolving world of technology today.

As much as I was in awe of my father, I wished he’d spare me some attention. It wasn’t only him who had a gaping hole in his life, a massive void that couldn’t be replaced. I lost her, too. All at once, I lost my mother, my best friend, and my number one cheerleader. And there wasn’t a day that passed that I didn’t mourn the loss of her. But she was gone, and there was nothing we could do about it. The only way we could remember her was to celebrate her kindness and cherish the beautiful memories she left behind.

My father mourned in his own way. I wished that he’d seek me out so we could grieve her together. But Peter Weber wasn’t the touchy-feely type. He wasn’t severe, though he gave off that detached, hard-hearted kind of father. He loved me in his own way, the only way he knew how—by ensuring that I would want for nothing.

Without his guidance and steady strength to help me through the toughest time of my life, I sought solace and comfort in my friends. Blair and Vivienne helped me manage the loss of such a beautiful light in my world.

My mother was truly a beautiful soul, and I missed her dearly. One of the things she taught me was to follow my dreams and to never stop fighting for what I believed in…and that’s what I was willing to do tonight. So here I was, following my dreams, a dream that led me to Jared St. James.

There was a deep sparkle in my eye, an unfettered burning in my soul, in every single fiber of my being, craving to be unleashed. I was ready to become unbidden and become the sensual woman who’d been longing to break barriers—metaphorically speaking and quite literally—the itsy-bitsy barrier in between my thighs.

“So what’s the plan again?” Vivienne intently glanced at Blair and me. Her delicate features were accentuated with careful application of different highlighters. “What if he shows up with that chick he’s been seeing lately? What’s the protocol on that?”

As much as I loved my friends, sometimes they give me so little credit. They should know that I wouldn’t even take such a massive risk if there were a possibility of Jared having a woman in his life at the moment. He was quite the lothario in a sense, but he stuck to one woman at a time for however long the relationship might be.

Those women, they mattered not.

“She won’t be there. Jared doesn’t recycle past lovers. Yovanna was out the door the second she made that tabloid interview.”

“How could you be so sure?” Vivienne gave me a sparing look as she scrutinized the inky black wig with condemnation.

“Because I know him. He hates being in the media. He keeps a low profile for a reason, and Yovanna blasted his personal business to the world. If my break-up timeline’s right, he’ll be on the prowl to replace her position. So, in my book, he’s been single for a week now.”

Vivienne’s pale blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “Good God, you studied the poor guy. I hope he’s worth all the trouble, Gi.”

Blair snickered before batting those long sooty lashes of hers. She loved to channel the modern day Audrey Hepburn sans the gentle attitude. My friend was fierce through and through and would never back down on a good verbal sparring with anyone.

“He’s far from poor, but yeah, you can’t fault Gisele for plotting this perfectly. I do hope you can tame the beast.”

I was devious and cunning…but only when I needed something accomplished. And tonight, my sights were on the man I had yearned for, for years now.

“All I need is one night…Then I can begin living my life.” One night. In his arms. No strings attached. Purely all-out delicious sex.

One night of a desperate attempt to temporarily possess something that wasn’t mine to hold. But somehow, I felt it was Jared’s sole right to take away my virginity before I began dating men my own age. A sexual passage to womanhood if you will. It was mad, understandably so, but it was how I felt.

Tonight was Hank Rinaldi’s sixtieth birthday, and the crème de la crème of Silicon Valley was going to be in attendance, including Jared. The second Blair had given me the green light that Jared’s secretary had accepted the invitation, my plan had begun to unfold. My father was invited as well, but ever since my mother’s tragic demise, he didn’t deem it appropriate to attend parties without his dear Edna by his side. I had tried to coax my father out of his mourning, but each time I tried, I ended up getting yelled at, and he’d unnecessarily avoid me for weeks on end, giving me the cold shoulder for what he claimed was disrespecting my mother’s memories by subjecting him to circumstances that he wasn’t ready to partake in.

As a result, whenever I was in his presence, I felt like I was tiptoeing on eggshells, making sure I wasn’t going to keep offending him. It was a tedious dance, but it was the only way I could have a relationship with him. And I’d rather get the scraps of my father’s attention than never having it at all. Even if he had drastically changed, I wasn’t going to abandon him. He was my father, and I loved him through thick and thin.

He had recently offered to purchase my own place, but I felt it was his own way of telling me he wanted more privacy, so I immediately rejected his offer. We barely saw each other living in the same house; if I moved out, I knew I’d never see him for ages. I didn’t want to be one of those rich kids who was required to make an appointment to see their fathers. Vivienne and Blair had done it their entire lives, and I knew how miserable that could be. I still believed, even after three years, that he would eventually get past the grief and become interested in me again. After all, we only had each other in this world. He wouldn’t fully abandon his only daughter. He couldn’t be that heartless.

“Earth to Gisele?” Blair snapped her fingers before my face, breaking me out of my reverie.

I rapidly blinked as I pushed my thoughts aside before blankly staring at her. “Sorry…what?”

Blair’s long nude lacquered fingertips brushed through the wig’s silky hair as she frowned at me. “I said…Do you want to put on the contacts or the wig first?”

“Let’s do the hair.” It seemed it’d be trickiest to apply. Jared preferred dark-haired women. It was a known fact to whoever knew him. He’d dated a few redheads and a string of blondes, but brunettes, he favored the most.

My vivid gray eyes would be blue tonight. My blonde tresses would be hidden under a wavy mass of black hair. I intended to seduce, and I had to make do with whatever arsenal I could enhance.

Vivienne and I had merely arrived here thirty minutes ago. Blair was already made up—hair majestically piled over her delicate head, subtle makeup accented with her favorite Chanel Coco Rouge lipstick. Her mother’s glam squad had to tend to her first before they scuttled to beautify Mrs. Wolf.

While I concentrated on painting my face and with Blair extremely focused on getting the wig to snugly fit around my head, I watched Vivienne from the mirror’s reflection as she slipped into her champagne pink beaded gown. She shimmied her hips as she slid the tight-fitting designer frock over her toned, lithe body.

“Do you want me to zip you up?” I paused in between my contouring application as I blinked at her thoughtfully.

“I’m good. I need to breathe for a moment.” She shrugged before glancing over at me with that massive grin of hers. “My hellish mother got me a size zero even though she knows I’m a two. She’s being her usual vindictive self ’cause I’m not willing to starve to please her. God, she can be so evil.”

Her French mother, Marguerite Wolf, had a strict rule in her household—consuming fat was a sin. If you weren’t a size zero, you were considered obese. She and Vivienne fought constantly. And quite frankly, I couldn’t blame my best friend’s resentment towards her mother’s severe treatment. She even went as far as making sure her little twin sisters were under a strict vegan diet. They were barely three years old. What mother would put a rigorous diet on these babies when they needed nutrition during fundamental years? Marguerite was a hard pill to swallow. She made Blair’s mother’s unfeeling, nonchalant demeanor seem warm.

“Sorry, doll, but if she were my mother, I’d have disowned her the second I slipped out of that frozen vagina incubator of hers.” Blair wasn’t one to hide her contempt when it came to Marguerite. I tended to keep my disdain lowered down a notch since it was still her mother, after all.

“If my mother had you as her daughter, she would’ve granted you whatever you wished ’cause you’re terrifying as hell.” Vivienne chortled. “I can so totally picture you hauling all of her haute couture from her favorite fashion houses, dousing it with gasoline, and making a bonfire out of it on the lawn to prove a point.”

We all laughed because Blair was one crazy biatch. There was a reason girls in our high school didn’t want to cross her. She’d go above and beyond to make your life hell, and quite frankly, who needed a real, breathing, live experience of Georgina George in their lives? They knew better, too, so that was why everyone bowed or cowered to Blair. The woman never went down without a hard fight. Delicate, she might seem to be, but she wouldn’t hold back before launching herself, sharpened claws and all, and give her opponent a free facial reconstruction. She was lethal in all aspects vital to bringing an enemy down.

We had graduated last week, and the three of us would be spending our summer on the French Riviera with Ethan Rinaldi, Blair’s brother, as our chaperone. Vivienne’s grandfather owned this gargantuan super yacht, and we were all looking forward to a fun-filled break lounging and partying before going to Stanford.

Tonight would culminate letting go of the old me and my unhealthy obsession of Jared. Once I’d accomplished bumping uglies with his truly, I was setting myself free so I could engage in a normal, healthy two-way relationship. So yes, this was a quintessential step to get where I needed to be in life. Like a stepping-stone, if you will, but with a penis involved.

Tonight, I was supposed to be a twenty-five-year-old socialite who’d recently come back from South Africa after doing charity work for her father’s foundation. That was all I knew, and I supposed I simply had to improvise the rest, ensuring Jared would bite the bait I’d cast. Although I had no firsthand experience in the art of seduction, I had seen enough movies, read enough smut, to figure out how to catch a man’s attention.

Tonight was my night. No matter what happened next, I was going to get Jared to notice me.