Page 76 of Twisted Truth

“I can take a look at them and put a skincare routine together for you,” Trenton offers. He’s sweet and quiet and makes for a calm presence compared to the firecracker that is Matthew.

“That would be amazing, thank you.”

“We should also get you booked for some facials and other skin procedures. If you’re going to be in the spotlight, you’ll want to give your skin its best chance to shine.”

“On it!” Matthew calls from the couch. “Also, Andre, we need to get her in for a trim and a color, her roots are starting to show.”

“Yes,” Andre agrees, brushing my hair. “And we need to fix this cut. Her layers are too heavy at the bottom. She isn’t getting enough movement.”

“Matthew also threw out all my old hair care products,” I tell him.

“Good. You must give your hair proper care and attention if you want optimal results. And from here on out, I don’t want you going to any other hair salons or using any products not approved of by me.” His voice is almost as bossy and authoritative as Matthew’s.

I giggle and salute him. “You got it.”

As the team works, I find myself mulling over the enigma of having less autonomy with money. Two weeks ago, no one cared what salon I went to or what products I used on my face. Now, I have a team of people ordering me around and dictating what to use and when and how to use it. The stubborn part of me struggles with not giving any push back. But then I remind myself that this team of people are all here to help me, and they have my best interests in mind. As ridiculous as it is, the public scrutiny is not worth my pride. Having people involved in intimate facets of my life is something I’m going to have to come to grips with and get used to. At least I’m being paid a lot of money for it.

Speaking of . . .

I open the banking app on my phone. My first payment was supposed to drop today, and I’ve been so busy that I haven’t checked. I hold my breath while the page loads.

My stomach drops.

Deposit, $1,000,000.

My hands start to shake, and I nearly drop my phone.

HOLY. SHIT.

I know I signed the contract. I knew this was coming. But seeing it is almost unbelievable.

“Why are you crying?” Trenton asks.

“Sorry! I was just surprised by something. Did I mess you up?”

“No, we’re good. I’ve only done brows, but you for sure can’t cry when I work on your eyes.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

I dab away my few tears and click into my bank transfers. I have past wire transfers saved, and so I go into each of them and transfer money. A chunk to Maya, a chunk to my mother, and a nice quadruple rent payment plus a generous bonus thank you to Zahra.

The rest of my time in the hair and makeup chair is nothing but fun and excitement after the amazing surprise of my first payment. Really, truly, the worries I had over my mom, Maya, and Zahra are now all suddenly gone. My mom can pay off her house on Monday. Maya will want for nothing for the remainder of her time at school, and Zahra deserves every penny for being the best friend in the world and taking me in when I was in need.

This makes all of the crazy of this situation worth it.

An hour later, Katya, my new stylist, preps the gown and gives me some sort of sticky bra since the dress is backless. She does a couple last minute alterations to make it fit perfectly, and then I’m standing in front of a full-length mirror hardly recognizing myself. The team is magic. My hair is down, shining in loose romantic curls, and swept to the side with beautiful pins to keep it off my back, since the backless cutout is the signature of the dress. My makeup is complimenting shades of plum and rose to match the dress. And the teardrop earrings, nude heels, and clutch purse Katya brought to round out the look are all gorgeous.

“Thank you,” I say to the team. “You guys are amazing!”

“Now, remember the instructions Rhonda gave you,” Matthew says from behind me. “You’ve got to work that dress on the red carpet.” He leans in close so the team can’t hear. “And don’t forget you owe me some Friday night tea.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m not going to go into details, but . . . yes, a connection was made.”

Matthew lets out a dramatic sigh. “At least there’s that. Even if you’re holding out on me.”