Page 98 of Twisted Truth

“Not like a woman, you don’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“While I don’t pretend to know the entire scope of what’s been reported about you, I know most of the negative press has to do with your reputation as a playboy and about you having too much money and power. I’ve never seen articles insulting your intelligence, dissecting your looks, or eviscerating you for having no social status. I’ve had all of those insults directed at me and it’s only been a week.

“And even when you get bad press, there’s almost always anecdotes within the articles praising your looks or your business acumen. You get a shit ton of free passes because you’re rich and handsome and a man. All the women want you, and all the men want to be you, and that gives you a lot of damn leeway. I’m the woman suddenly in the spotlight for landing you, and while I wish women bashing other women over petty jealousy was a thing of the past, we’re not there yet.

“So, I can’t afford any missteps. And even then, no matter how perfect I am, no matter how much good press I get, there will always be a ton of people out there finding and creating faults in me. That’s my new reality. I’m not saying that you don’t experience any of that, but it’s just not the same for you as a man. So do me a favor, and don’t brush aside my concerns because they’re not your experience. They are mine, and they are real.”

“Well, you’ll have five million dollars to assuage yourhumiliationwith.”

Now, I’m past irritation. Fuck him. “You can be a real asshole, sometimes.” I stand up to leave.

“We’re not done here.”

“Oh, I’m done.”

Asher’s desk phone rings, and I smirk. Saved by the phone.

Asher answers and barks to whoever is on the other line that he’ll call them back, then storms after me. I’m just out ofhis door when he catches up. But luckily for me, Daphne and Heather are passing by on their way to the conference room.

“Oh good, you’re done,” Heather says. “Our meeting to prep for the movie premiere is just about to start.”

I turn toward Asher, but sidle away from him and move next to Heather. His eyes narrow.

“I’ll see you tonight at the premiere,” I say sweetly. Then I turn and walk away with Heather and Daphne.

So much for not fighting at work.

But that’s what he gets for being an asshole.

“Is the dress here yet?”I ask Matthew as he pokes his head in while Andre and Trenton work in tandem on my hair and makeup.

“It just got here. Katya is steaming it as we speak, and she’s assured me the fit will be flawless.”

I cross my fingers. I’ve had two fittings with tweaks to the dress because I want it to fit like a glove. We went too bland with the last dress, and I was labeled as plain. I won’t make that mistake again. I heard the people loud and clear as they practically shouted that Asher Langford’s girlfriend should be someone with sex appeal.

Challenge accepted, fuckers.

The people will get what they want in spades because tonight, I’m going for vixen. Emily is a little worried with this strategy since it might feed into the “sleeping my way to the top” chatter in the media, but I think I’ll be okay. This movie and franchise have been labeled as fast-paced, sexy, and dangerous, so I’ve tried to feed into that theme with my look tonight. That way, the sexy vixen is appropriate for the venue, and I can get away with showing my sexy side with the context to do so.

“There we are,” Andre says, giving my hair one last tousle and spray with hairspray.

Trenton finishes applying my red lipstick, and I take a look in the mirror.

Perfect.

“You two are magicians,” I say, smiling at my reflection. It’s exactly what I wanted. Sexy, beachy waves for my hair, and a light smoky eye and red lips for my makeup. Not to mention the full body bronze makeup I have everywhere that makes my skin look sun-kissed and glowing.

Katya brings in the dress, and we both squeal when it’s on and in place. I told Matthew I wanted “sophisticated Jessica Rabbit,” and he tracked down the perfect dress. It’s a vibrant red, strapless, and has a slit to my upper thigh on the right side. And true to Matthew’s and Katya’s words, it fits like a glove. It’s practically painted on without looking slutty. It’s sexy as hell, but with the matte finish to the fabric and the elegant cut and structure you find with couture, it’s still sophisticated. Check and check.

We finish the look with strappy gold heels, wide gold cuffs on each wrist, and gold earrings.

“Should we add a necklace?” I ask, touching the bare skin at my throat.

“No,” Katya insists. “I think that will be too much jewelry, plus leaving the area blank lets the eyes wander to your cleavage, which is giving chef’s kiss vibes.”

I smirk. Good.