Chapter 9 Stunning Entrance
Selena's POV
After finishing up the mine business, I boarded the private jet back home.
As soon as I got home, I saw my mom sitting on the couch with a pile of men's photos and profiles spread out in front of her, muttering to herself.
"This one won't work, looks too much like a player."
"This one... his family business conflicts with ours, pass."
"Oh, what about this one? Cambridge graduate, and he's even an earl..."
When she saw me come in, she quickly gathered up the photos with a guilty look on her face, like a kid caught doing something wrong.
"Selena, you're back! How did everything go in Nevada?"
"Very smoothly, Mom." I walked over and sat down next to her. "What did Mr. Sterling say?"
At the mention of this, my mom's expression turned strange, like she was both angry and enjoying someone else's misfortune.
"What else could he say? His son bid on that 'Heart of the Ocean' thing, says he wants to give it to you as an apology gift. He also made a dinner reservation for tomorrow night at 'The Pinnacle' restaurant downtown."
"He's certainly generous with his money, but who knows what he's really up to. Baby, if you don't want to go, I'll call right now and turn him down!"
"Go? Why wouldn't I go?"
I smiled.
The Pinnacle restaurant, the city's most upscale revolving restaurant, where they say the average meal costs as much as a decent car.
Royce Sterling choosing that place was obviously to show off his superiority with money and grandeur, and see if this "country girl" would be too intimidated to know what to do.
How boring.
But if he wanted a show, I'd give him one.
"Mom, tomorrow night, I'm going to do my makeup... really well."
The next evening, standing in front of the mirror, I barely recognized the person staring back.
My makeup skills? How should I put it?
Full of retro 1980s charm.
Foundation like a mask, applied unevenly thick and thin on my face.
Eye shadow in a bizarre combination of death Barbie pink and bright blue, with messily blended edges.
Two patches of blush like rouge on a plateau blazing on my cheeks, plus thick black eyeliner like caterpillars.
The most deadly part was the lipstick - a greasy, fluorescent pink that perfectly highlighted all my lip lines.
"How do I look, Mom? Pretty, right?" I held up the lipstick, proudly admiring my masterpiece.
She looked at the mirror at what resembled a clown about to perform in a country circus, and nodded with difficulty: "...Very pretty, baby. Very... visually striking."
But I wasn't done yet.
I dug out from the closet a dress my mom used to wear - a completely outdated style.
Bright yellow fabric covered with colorful little flowers, puffy sleeves, high collar, and an absurdly wide pink belt.
Wearing it, I felt like a walking, over-fertilized Christmas tree.
"Perfect!" I clapped my hands excitedly. "This is it! Let him see how stunningly beautiful the Hart family daughter is!"
Mom took a deep breath.
I thought it was great though.
Because this was exactly the role I was playing today - a country girl with questionable taste, desperate to climb into high society.
When I walked into The Pinnacle's members-only restaurant, all the guests in their luxury designer clothes who considered themselves upper class turned their eyes on me like spotlights.
I could clearly hear those suppressed, mocking gasps.
"Oh my God, who is she?"
"How did she get in here? Did the doorman fall asleep?"
"Look at that dress, my eyes are burning..."
I pretended not to hear, straightened my back, and looked for him.
Royce Sterling was sitting in the best window seat.
Today he wore a well-tailored gray suit, no tie, with the top two buttons of his collar undone, looking less aggressive than at the party and more lazily sexy.
He was impatiently checking his watch. When I walked up to him, he looked up.
In that instant, I clearly saw the impatience in his eyes turn to shock and... disgust.
I knew I'd succeeded.
He was probably thinking, could this monster in front of him really be his supposedly "beautiful and elegant" fiancée?
"Mr. Sterling?"
I spoke in a pinched, sickeningly sweet voice, squeezing what I thought was the shyest smile onto my face.
His expression froze for a second before he squeezed out a few words through clenched teeth: "Miss Hart? Please, sit down."
I sat down across from him.
"Wow! This place is so beautiful! Looking down from this high up, the whole city looks like it's at our feet! Mr. Sterling, you're so amazing!"
I saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
"Miss Hart, I'm glad you like it."
His tone was resigned.
A waiter came over. He smoothly ordered a bottle of wine, then pushed the menu toward me.
I pretended not to understand the French on the menu and randomly pointed at the most expensive item. "This one! I want this one! It looks so fancy!"
Royce looked down at me condescendingly. "You just ordered a violin piece."
I immediately widened my eyes, covered my mouth, and pretended to explain in a flustered manner. "Oh no, it's not that I can't read French, I'm just used to coming here and first eating - oh wait, I mean first listening to a violin piece."
"Miss Hart."
He leaned forward slightly, fingers interlaced on the table, assuming a negotiating posture.
"I think we're both adults, so there's no need to beat around the bush."
"What exactly are you getting at?"
I blinked my eyes with their fly-leg lashes, looking at him innocently.
"The engagement between our families was our elders' decision. I don't want my personal life tied down by family interests. I think Miss Hart is smart enough to understand what I mean."
He was hinting that I should voluntarily give up this marriage.
How could I possibly let him have his way?
I lowered my head, shoulders trembling slightly. When I looked up again, my eyes were already red.
"Mr. Sterling... do you mean you don't want to marry me?"
I used a handkerchief - provided by my mother, the kind with little flowers - to wipe the corner of my eye.
"Mr. Sterling... do you think I'm... not good enough for you?"
I continued my disgusting baby-voice performance, tears coming on command, flowing down my foundation that was caked on like plaster, leaving two terrible streaks.
"I... even though I'm from the country, I truly like you..."
While talking, I secretly observed his reaction.
His fingers drummed impatiently on the table, clearly reaching the limit of his patience.