Page 4 of Happily Ever After

Blaise stood there longer than she’d intended, studying herself with the kind of critical eye she hadn’t used in a long while. She had no makeup on. A soft sheen clung faintly to her skin from the beach. Her hair was pulled back with no attempt to do anything but keep it out of her face.

This was the version of herself that never made it into photographs or onto screens.

This was the woman Marco Alvarez was about to see live and in person. Very different than in photos. Even the most recent ones that Maude had taken.

A question popped into her mind uninvited, sharp and sudden.

Would he regret hiring her?

Did he think he was getting the Blaise Monroe who’d once strutted down runaways during Paris Fashion Week? Because he wasn’t.

There was a lot more to her now. Lines that hadn’t been there in the Nineties. Changes that came with time and stress and grief. Not to mention rebuilding a life from the ground up.

Blaise had spent years reminding herself that she wasn’t trying to be who she’d been in her twenties. She was more than okay with who she was now. What she looked like.

Still, doubt had a way of slipping in through the cracks.

She leaned closer to the mirror, lifting her chin slightly, then laughed under her breath. “You’re doing it again,” she told herself quietly. Borrowing trouble, as her mother would have said. Imagining disappointment where there wasn’t any.

Yet.

But Marco hadn’t asked her to be anyone but herself. He’d been explicit about that. About wanting women who looked like themselves at the age they were. Who hadn’t nipped and tucked and filled until they were unrecognizable. Women who owned where they were.

He’d seen the photos on her website. He knew that’s exactly who she was. She straightened, the familiar steel of her confidence settling back into place. She had earned this. Every step of it.

Steam filled the room, fogging the mirror as Blaise stepped under the spray, letting the water wash away the lingering self-doubt along with the traces of salt and sand. By the time she shut it off, she felt fine about things.

Mostly fine. She wrapped her hair in a towel, herself in a robe, and padded back into the bedroom, reaching for her phone as she went. Her fingers hovered for a second as she gathered her thoughts. Then she tapped out a message to Paige.

Quick question about Luminelle. If you had to pick one product that absolutely delivers, what would it be?

Paige’s reply came faster than she’d expected. Just one? That’s tough. But if I had to—Serum No. 4. It’s the workhorse. Why?

Blaise smiled at the screen. It’s that photoshoot I’ve got coming up. Want to look like myself but on my best day.

There was a pause then her phone buzzed again.

Paige texted, Good for you. But you’re not buying it. I’ll bring you samples later this morning, after I finish my interview with Cece. Will you be home? I’ve got a few things I think you’ll like.

Paige’s generosity touched Blaise. I’ll be here, working on the book. That’s so kind. Thank you. I mean it. And best wishes on that interview. You’re going to be fantastic.

Thanks! I’ll text before I come by.

Blaise set the phone down and glanced toward the mirror on her closet door. Marco had hired her. Her. He knew she wasn’t twenty anymore. He knew what he was getting.

It was all going to be fine. Maybe better than fine.

This time, she wasn’t in a cattle call of other girls, hoping to be chosen.

She already had been.

Chapter Three

Cece heard Paige before she saw her.

Not footsteps but the soft slide of her shoes on the front porch, then the pause at the door. Cece set her ereader down on the kitchen counter and glanced at the clock. Right on time. That was Paige, punctual as always.

When Paige knocked, Cece opened the door with a smile in place. “Hey.”