43. Six Inches
**43. Six Inches**
“I missed living in Vegas.” Cason cooes from the front seat.
“You hardly live here.” Ceasar comments from beside me.
“That’s why I said I missed Las Vegas, brother. I just love the smell of cigarette, sex and regret in the air. It’s like heaven, but with more hookers.”
Talking about regret just sends me on to a planet of I-wish-i-had-a-time-machine or some brain.
How I dreamed of being rich..
But got badly ditched!
The revenge went so wrong,
That now I can’t even smoke a bong!
“Be ready in the evening. My mother is hosting a party to publicly announce us as a couple.”
It took me a couple of seconds to figure out that Ceasar was talking to me.
“What? A party?” Cason turns around at us excitedly. “Will there be strippers too?”
Ceasar’s expression immediately transforms into that of a serial killer. “No. And you will not try to bring any stripper in there.” He warns his brother with a deadly serious look on his face and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.
*Wait.. He is not kidding!*
“Ah! It’s going to be the most boring party.” Cason sighs and turns away as if he lost interest in the topic, while I ask Ceasar. “What kind of party it will be?”
“A cocktail red carpet party with around a thousand guests, mostly business people and a few influencers.” He says in a monotonous tone while I begin to hyperventilate like a cat in bathtub.
“A thousand people? And a red-carpet party? But I am not ready.” My anxiety just took a Red Bull shot and he plainly stares at me like a notice board.
“I’ll send a designer and makeup artist to help you get ready.” He informs me and I freakout more.
“No. I mean.. I am not ready to be introduced as your wife to the whole world.” I would die pretending in front of two thousand eyes and a hundred of cameras.
“Well, you can introduce others as my wife, if it helps you.” Cason suggests from the front seat.
Ceasar narrows his eyes darkly and his fists clench on his thighs with a crushing intensity. “Thank you, Jackson. Cason can walk out from here.” He tells to the driver in a low dark tone.
The car halts and I look out to see a huge iron gate of a villa. It’s the same house where we met his parents for the dinner.
“You guys aren’t coming?” Cason spins around and shoots us a confused look.
“No. Me and my wife will be staying in my condo. We need privacy to do married people stuff, you know?” Ceasar tells him bluntly and my face flushes with fresh blood.
My cheeks are red, I can’t refute.
Like a beetroot fresh from the root.
His boldness caught me off guard,
Now I am blushing red and hard.
Cason rolls his eyes as he gets out of the car with his luggage, which is just his phone and coffee. “So then I’ll see you both at the party.” He says looking at me.
“Yes. See you then.” Ceasar replies with a face as hard as the bonnet of the car, then asks Jackson to drive off.
God! This chicken is totally burnt!
As they say, too much jealous burns the meat. And I think I turned him into charcoal.
As we reach his condo, a wave of nostalgia flows through my bones. The elevator and his living room are like a trip down to the memory lane. I might as well rename them as *baby making room* because that’s when my stupid horny vagina went out of its league.
Richard, the butler takes our luggage and I stride towards my room, without sparing a glance at the burnt chicken.
My old room welcomes me and without skipping a beat, I plop down onto my bed for another nap.
After the noon, nap and a good meal, my door gets knocked, before the entrance of two men with black shades and big suitcases, giving them an appearance of fashion mafias.
“Hello, darling!” The one in pink suit and pink shoes waves at me.
“And hello to you too!” The one in glittering golden blazer and silver platform boots greets me.
“Um.. Hi.” I slowly stand up staring at the flamboyant duo and raise my brows up in a super confused look.
*Did these flamingos time travelled to a wrong place?*
“Sit down, girl. We have too much work to do on you.” The golden disco ball says, unzipping his bag to reveal a plethora of colour dresses.
“Who are you people?” I ask them as the pink panther makes me sit on my dressing table and opens his arsenal of beauty weapons.
“I am Dua, a makeup artist and he is my boyfriend, Lipa a fashion designer. And we, are here, to turn you, from Basic to Bae.”
The dynamic duo wastes no time and gets down to business. Dua takes charge of my face. He keeps putting layer and layer of products like he is making a Baklava pastry.
Whereas Lipa gets on a search to find the perfect dress for me that would not only steal eyes but also the headlines.
“You look fantastic, babe! And I am not even finished yet.” The pink flamingo chuckles, feathering some mascara on my fake lashes.
“Let’s get you into a dress.” They exclaimed, rubbing their hands together with excitement as if can’t wait to see the end result of their test subject.
“Oh my god! This dress was made for you, gurl!” Lipa gasps, whipping out a red gown with thigh-high slit and a scandalous deep neck. The dress screams of center of the attention, something I intend to be tonight.
Once I slip into it, I look myself in the mirror and almost faint at the sight of the gorgeous creature staring back at me. I look F-A-N-T-A-S-T-I-C!!
In one glance I look like I am draped in the blood of my enemies. The dress clings to my figure, molding itself to my skin like a second layer. I feel sexy and powerful, someone even James Bond can’t impress.
With the addition of red lipstick and smoky eyes, the make pulls out a bold and daring female fatale look, that would even intimidate assassins. I never loved my face like this before.
My hair falls in loose waves, cascading down to my chest like a waterfall of fire. I turn around and stare at the backless cut of the dress and almost drop my mouth at how sexy and alluring I appear.
“I look amazing!” I exclaim happily while gazing at my reflection.
“Of course you do, darling.” The pink artist says with in wink. “We are professionals!”
A smile stretches from ear to ear as I feel like I am on cloud nine.
And suddenly, I wonder how Ceasar would react after seeing me. My heart does a little salsa in my chest, imagining his jaw dropping and eyes popping out like a cartoon character at the sight of my entrance.
“Though you can pull off six inches, let’s go with a two-inch heels since you are expecting a baby soon. By the way, how far along are you?” The fashion designer asks me.
“I am three months pregnant.” I reply.
He appears surprised as he raises his purple colour eyebrows and exclaims, “Wow! My guess was five.” He proceeds to retrieve a pair of red heels with rubies studded on its sides.
“Am I looking fat?” I ask him with a doubt in my bubble of confidence.
“Not at all. It’s normal to gain weight during pregnancy because you are eating for two people. And babe, believe me.. You look amazing and you will make an awesome mother.”
“Aww. Thank you.” My cheeks tingle with blush as I feel overwhelmed by his words.
“You are welcome. But right now, it’s time to kill some hearts.” He smirks at me and I couldn’t help with nod my head in agreement.
*It’s time to kill.*