Aurora
Flying in a private jet had left me in awe, I descended the plane stairs, I couldn't process the experience. It was far from the life I wanted to buy into.
At 7pm, the hangar shun with industrial lights. Awestruck, I followed Erica deeper into the cave space, our footsteps echoing off the concrete floor.
Ahead stood a slender woman in her fifties, flanked by three others.
" My name is Francis Moore." She removed her black shades with class, towering over me in stiletto heels.
She was stunning. In straight blond hair cutting across her chin, a thin-faced, with flawless skin. Her dark eyes locked in mine, holding eye contact.
Mother of Devin.
I stood frozen; her gaze traveled over my body, inspecting.
"You're healthier than I thought you'd be." She stepped closer, producing face wipes and dabbing at my freckles. "The best skincare and make-up will do."
I swallowed, ignoring the heat spreading across my cheeks.
" Vivian, take her to the suite and have her fitted for dinner tomorrow at six. She'll be meeting my son."
"There's no need," I said in haste. "I brought statement pieces."
Mrs. Moore lips became a thin, tight line, "Darling, old money is timeless. That's this family's heritage." Her eyes flickered over my outfit. "Not..... whatever you're wearing."
"Of course."
" And Vivian?" She turned behind her. "Her looks must impress him."
Ignoring me, she walked off, her heels marking her departure. Erica and two massive men in black suits filed behind her, leaving me alone with a young lady I hadn't noticed.
She had statement red hair, wearing a white oversized sweater on top a silk maxi dress, black heels and a bag. Everything seemed to cost a lot.
Even amidst the tension, her smile was catching.
"Ma'am, you are to come with me." She gestured towards the shiny black car parked at the hangar's entrance. " I'd be your personal assistant; always with you, at your call."
" Call me Aurora. "
" That's against protocol, ma'am." She smiles widened. Sweet under the formality, "Welcome to Los Angeles."
As we walked towards the car, the heavy weight of what I agreed to be my survival. I'd thought to accept my fate.
My statement was wrong.
The next day by evening, I had spent my whole day glued to my phone running background checks on the man I dread to meet.
Vivian had almost lost her breath telling me to eat, as I changed into so many outfits throughout the day.
I was surviving on three hours of sleep and a cup of coffee; I was new to the food here.
Every headline traced back to him. Paparazzi pictures with his family. Yet no social media handles.
He was like a ghost passing through the walls of Los Angeles. I got my eyes on business articles and headlines with the company name, Sapphire Industry. He made everything that survived on technology.
He was the bachelor every woman hoped to have.
He's either kept to himself in public or had a dangerous behavior.
Well.. I have a couple of hours to find out for myself.
The glam team was present. The makeup artist and hairstylist worked their magic for the mysterious dinner.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my long wavy brown hair sleeked in an updo hiding my gold highlights.
The makeup artist painted my face into what they called a "siren look". Dramatic eye shadows, a contoured face and glossy nude lips.
I stood up from the makeup chair. The long backless sequin white gown hugged my curves, my long legs revealed by the two-sided long slits. Diamonds adorned my ears and wrists. Clutching the silver purse with my life.
I was a vixen in distress.
*************
The Restaurant- La Élixir- was elegant. High ceilings streched above me, low ambience lighting casting the room into a sunset. Guests spoke with whispers; the servers moved like ballet dancers between each table.
" Reservation for Aurora Fabian," I told the host; my voice echoed like the troubled ocean waves.
I never wanted this.
" Of course, Mr. Moore is already waiting for you. Right this way, ma'am."
Goosebumps crawled my skin as I followed him into the restaurant.
Then I saw him.
He sat at the table right in the middle, seated in a black Italian suit that shone well in the light, costing millions. He stared at his phone. A martini glass encircled in his other hand. His dark chocolate hair sleeked back, glossing every strand put together. Everything about him screamed money and power.
A raven- dark and predatory.
I sat on the empty seat with my name card, waiting for him to acknowledge my presence.
But he didn't. A minute passed. Then two.
Am I invisible or sitting at the wrong table?
"Ahem-" I cleared my throat. Twice.
My mother's claims about his interest in me were false.
His face lifted. His eyes spoke nature's rebellion against a calm gaze. He swept me into a clinical assessment- His gaze shifting from my face to my neckline.
No smile. No apology.
"Apologies, I'm scheduled to meet with Devin."
His expression didn't change a bit.
"You are late. I didn't come here for a conversation, so let's get this over with." He stated.
Did he speak to me like that?
My skin crawled.
" Excuse me?" I bit back, holding his gaze.
I can't let another man control me. Not again. Not Tonight.
" Are you ready to take your orders?" The server appeared before us with his jotter and pen with skill, unable to sense the tension between us.
" A glass of wine will suffice." The server gave a nod, leaving us.
" If I'm wasting your time, why sign an agreement with my father?"
" Mind your tongue."
" I can see you are unhappy about this." I said. " You have money, and you sure are the ladies' catch, so why are you here?" My nose crinkled.
" What if I want you?" His voice was low. " You're stunning." He crooked his head.
"I don't care to whom my father pawns me over to." My tone rose, causing heads to turn. " I have no interest in you or this whole arrangement business. Even if your net worth is a billion dollars, or a special breed of human you are." Heat raced across my cheeks and neck.
The server placed the bottle of wine and glasses.
"Spare yourself the energy; you are to serve as my trophy, buttercup." A smile cut across his face, cruel and mischievous.
" How dare you tease me?" My voice narrowed into a dangerous calm. "You are not my type."
" You're not my type either." He straighten his suit with deliberate care.
" You are an asshole."
" Even better, get used to it, I'm your soon to be husband.... do you mind champagne?" He grinned, pouring into my glass.
" I'll rather die of thirst. " I crossed my arms.
One thing was certain; I'm the dove my parents led into his trap, like a mouse following cheese.
But I will not spend the rest of my life in another gilded cage with a jerk as companion. I must carve out my destiny, whatever it takes.