Page 433 of The Parkers' Handsome Holiday
Chadwick seemingly could do no wrong in the eyes of people who didn’t really know him. It wasn’t that I thought he was a bad guy. I didn’t, not even in the slightest. He was just obnoxious, and proud, and entitled, and cocky, and indulgent.
Ivana finished up my lip color with a satisfied nod. “You look gorgeous, hun. I wish there was something we could do about these clothes but it’s not really our call.”
Alana nodded despairingly. “The skirt could be so much better.”
“The whole thing could be so much better.” Ivana collected all her makeup into her carrier on wheels. “But you need to look the part of the office girl, I suppose.”
“It’s better than the elf costume.” I stood up on aching feet and resisted the urge to run my fingers through my hair to loosen it up. Alana had loaded it up with styling product: oils, mousse, dry shampoo, texturizer, hairspray. It felt stiff, and when I turned my head quickly from side to side it didn’t even move. The messy curls, more waves than anything, stuck out every which way in an intentionally disheveled style that I wished I could recreate at home with my own flat iron. It looked great but felt terrible—like crunchy noodles.
One of the assistants directed me out of the board room and down the hall to the set in front of the largest windows in the office: Alastair’s private office. He’d vacated the building for the day and his office made for the perfect backdrop with the moody lighting and New York City views sprawling behind his desk. Reflective panels had been set up to aim the lights on the subjects of the shot, and a Christmas tree in front of the window reflected on the glass.
The photographer, Vincent Wong, stood in front of his camera adjusting things and preparing for the shoot.
When he saw me coming, he straightened with a smile, moved forward, and shook my hand. “Good morning, Ms. Miller. You look lovely. Please, find your mark on the red X on the floor.”
I moved to stand over the red X, just a couple of feet from the Christmas tree. My palms began to sweat, and I nervously fidgeted with the sleeves of my blouse.
Vincent snapped a couple of test shots while I stood there. The flash nearly blinded me.
I didn’t have to wait long for Chadwick to show up. He strolled in with a gaggle of people on his heel: his wardrobe team, Hugh, Ivana, Alana, and a couple of strays who I wasn’t sure who they were. All of them hung on his every word as he told them a story with a funny punchline. By the time he stood over his mark beside me, the laughter in the room had died down.
“Tinsel,” he said in greeting.
“Chadwick.”
“You look good.”
“I feel like a catalogue model for The Bay.”
He chuckled. “Is that a bad thing?”
I scowled and gestured up and down at his suit. “You get a trendy sleek suit, and I get a mom-blouse and a pencil skirt.”
He arched an eyebrow and looked at my outfit. “Do you want to change?”
I blinked. “Is that an option?”
He shrugged. “Why not? If you’re uncomfortable, it’s going to show in the pictures. I don’t mind. This might have been my dad’s call, but he won’t mind me taking some liberties and making adjustments. He wants me to run the company, so why not try my hand at making some changes right off the bat?” Chadwick turned to everyone in the room. “We need fifteen more minutes, people. Hughie, accompany Tinsely to look at her wardrobe options. She can wear anything she likes for the first shoot. Hustle, people, hustle.”
I hurried off my marked X after Hugh, pausing in the doorway to the office to turn back and mouth the words thank you to Chadwick, who was already drowning in the attention of Ivana and Alana.
Hugh hung back while I scoured the racks of clothes. I didn’t want to be that high maintenance girl who held everyone up, so I made my selections quickly: a pair of velvet bellbottom pants covered in decently spaced-apart rhinestones, a wine-red long-sleeved blouse that was way more fitted than the previous one I’d had on with a flattering neckline that showed off my décolletage and pointed-toe pumps that made my legs look longer.
When I revealed the outfit to Hugh, he nodded approvingly. “I don’t know much about fashion, but this looks better to me. Come on, let’s go before Chadwick takes all his shots without you.”
Upon returning to Alastair’s office, I was greeted with nods of approval for my wardrobe decisions and resumed my spot on the red X beside Chadwick, who didn’t bother hiding the way he checked me out with long raking gazes.
“Better?” I asked as I straightened up and followed Vincent’s directions.
Turn a little to the right.
Rest an arm on Chadwick’s shoulder and twirl your hair.
Smile up at him.
Look into each other’s eyes.
Chadwick smiled as we held each other’s stares. “Much better. You look more like yourself.”
