Chapter 4 THE TRANSFORMATION
The boutique in downtown Bellevue was the kind of place that didn't display prices, which Harper had learned usually meant she couldn't afford anything in it. Soft lighting cast everything in a flattering glow, cream-colored walls made the space feel like an art gallery, and even the carpet felt expensive beneath her scuffed boots.
Amanda Chen stood beside Harper with her ever-present tablet, scrolling through what appeared to be an extensive checklist. She'd barely looked up since they'd arrived thirty minutes ago. "The engagement party is Friday evening at the Colton family estate on Mercer Island. Approximately two hundred guests. Black tie."
"Two hundred people?" Harper's voice came out higher than she intended. "I thought you said we were keeping this low-key."
"This is low-key for the Colton family." Amanda's tone suggested she was being completely serious. "The actual wedding will be in a much smaller City Hall with minimal witnesses. But the engagement party is necessary to establish the relationship publicly before Marcus Hyland can build opposition."
It had been two days since Harper signed the contract. Two days of her life moving forward with a momentum she couldn't control, like being caught in a current too strong to swim against. Sebastian had barely spoken to her beyond absolute necessities; everything was being coordinated through Amanda, who had apparently been briefed on the full arrangement and had signed enough NDAs to fill a filing cabinet.
"Try this one." A saleswoman appeared beside them, holding a dress like it was made of spun glass. Midnight blue silk that caught the light when she moved.
"I can dress myself," Harper said, not for the first time that afternoon.
"Not for this world, you can't." Amanda finally looked up from her tablet. "Ms. Vale, I understand this is uncomfortable. But you're about to become Mrs. Sebastian Colton in the eyes of Seattle's social elite. That comes with certain expectations."
Harper wanted to argue but knew it was pointless. She'd agreed to make this arrangement convincing. That meant playing the part, even if every fiber of her being resisted the idea of being transformed into someone else's idea of acceptable.
The saleswoman Diane, according to her nameplate, smiled encouragingly. "Just try it on. You can always say no."
Harper took the dress and disappeared into the fitting room, which was larger than her old apartment's bathroom. The silk felt foreign against her skin, too smooth and delicate. She was used to jeans and flannel shirts, clothes that could survive construction sites and coffee spills and the general chaos of her life.
This dress was designed for someone who lived carefully.
She emerged from the fitting room, and Diane's expression shifted to something like triumph. "Oh. Oh, that's perfect."
Harper looked at herself in the three-way mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back. The dress was fitted but not tight, hugging curves she usually tried to hide beneath loose clothing. The neckline was elegant without being revealing, the color brought out something in her eyes she'd never noticed before. Even with her damp hair pulled back in a messy bun and no makeup, she looked different.
She looked expensive.
"What do you think, Ms. Vale?" Amanda had appeared beside her, studying Harper's reflection with a critical eye that seemed to catalogue every detail.
"I think I look like I'm playing dress-up in someone else's life."
"You look like you could belong in Sebastian Colton's world. That's what matters." Amanda made a note on her tablet. "We'll take it. Also, the burgundy cocktail dress, the black evening gown, and those Louboutin heels we looked at earlier."
"Amanda, this is too much…"
"Mr. Colton has an account here. Everything's been arranged." Amanda's voice was matter-of-fact, like buying thousands of dollars' worth of clothes for a fake fiancée was a perfectly normal Tuesday. "You'll need an appropriate wardrobe for various events over the next several months. This is necessary."
Harper wanted to argue but recognized the futility. This was her life now at least for the next twelve months. Being dressed up like a doll, paraded around at parties, transformed into someone Sebastian Colton's world would accept.
Two hours and what Harper suspected was at least fifteen thousand dollars later, they left the boutique with enough shopping bags to fill Amanda's trunk. Harper sat in the passenger seat of Amanda's sleek black sedan, watching Bellevue give way to Seattle proper, and wondered how exactly she'd gotten here.
"The stylist will come to the penthouse Thursday morning," Amanda said, navigating traffic with efficient precision. "Hair, makeup, final wardrobe check. She'll need about three hours."
"Three hours just to get ready?"
"You're making your debut as Sebastian Colton's fiancée. First impressions matter in this world. They matter more than almost anything else." Amanda glanced at her. "The driver will collect you at six-thirty Friday evening. The party officially starts at seven, but you'll arrive at seven-fifteen. Never exactly on time, never more than thirty minutes late. Fashionably late is a specific window."
Harper's head was spinning with rules she'd never known existed. "Is there a manual for all of this?"
"You learn by observation. By watching how the others behave and adapting." Amanda paused at a red light. "If I can offer some advice, Ms. Vale?"
"Please."
"Don't try to become someone you're not. They'll see through it immediately these people are experts at detecting fraud. But don't be deliberately defiant either. Find the balance between being yourself and being someone who can exist in their world." Amanda's voice softened slightly. "Mr. Colton chose you because you're different from the women in his usual social circle. Don't lose that trying to fit in."
It was the most human thing Amanda had said since they'd met, and Harper found herself grateful for it.
"Did he tell you?" Harper asked quietly. "About the real arrangement?"
"I know what I need to know to do my job effectively. Which is to ensure this transition is as smooth as possible for both of you." Amanda's response was carefully neutral, professional. "What I think personally is irrelevant."
"But you do think something."
Amanda was quiet for a long moment as she navigated onto the highway. "I think Mr. Colton is a complicated man in a complicated situation making the best choice he can see. I think you're either very brave or very desperate. And I think if you're going to do this, you might as well do it properly."
Friday evening arrived faster than Harper expected. She stood in front of the full-length mirror in her new bedroom. She'd officially moved into the penthouse three days ago, though she and Sebastian continued to orbit each other like distant planets and barely recognized her reflection.
The stylist had earned whatever astronomical fee Sebastian was paying. Harper's hair was swept up in something that looked effortlessly elegant but had taken forty-five minutes to create. Her makeup was subtle but transformative, making her eyes look larger and her cheekbones more defined. The midnight blue dress fit like it had been made for her body specifically.
She looked like the kind of woman who belonged at a billionaire's engagement party.
She just didn't feel like Harper Vale anymore.
A knock on her bedroom door made her turn. "Come in."
Sebastian opened the door and stopped in the doorway. For a long moment, he just stared at her, his expression unreadable.
He was wearing a tuxedo that looked custom-made, because it probably was. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his jaw clean-shaven, and he looked every inch the CEO that Forbes magazine featured in their profiles. Powerful, composed, completely in control.
"You look…" He stopped, clearing his throat. "Different. Good difference."
"You sound surprised."
"I'm not. I'm just..." He trailed off, something flickering in his eyes that Harper couldn't quite identify. "Amanda did well with the wardrobe selection."
"Is that a compliment for Amanda or for me?"
"Both." A small smile touched his lips. "Are you ready?"
Harper looked at her reflection one more time. The elegant stranger stared back at her. "No. But I don't think that matters."
"It doesn't." Sebastian offered his arm. "The car is waiting."
The drive to Mercer Island took thirty minutes through Friday evening traffic. They sat in the back of Sebastian's town car driven by someone named James who Sebastian greeted by name and mostly stayed silent. Sebastian checked his phone occasionally, responding to messages with efficient typing. Harper watched the city lights blur past and tried to calm her racing heart. "Marcus will be there tonight," Sebastian said as they crossed the bridge to Mercer Island. "He'll be watching you, looking for any inconsistency in our story."
"No pressure."
"You handled him well at my office. Just do that again." Sebastian put his phone away and turned to face her fully. "Stay close to me. Follow my lead on the important conversations. And remember we're in love. We're happy. We can't give him any ammunition."
Harper nodded, her mouth suddenly dry.
The Colton estate appeared through the trees like something from a different era. Sprawling grounds with mature landscaping, a circular driveway with an elaborate fountain, the house itself a masterpiece of mid-century modern architecture that had been maintained and updated perfectly. Lights blazed from every window, and even from the driveway Harper could hear music and conversation drifting out.
Two hundred people, Amanda had said. Two hundred people who would be studying her, judging her, trying to determine if she was worthy of Sebastian Colton's world.
The car stopped at the entrance. James came around to open Harper's door, and she stepped out carefully, still getting used to heels this high. Sebastian was immediately beside her, his hand finding the small of her back.
The touch was warm through the silk of her dress, and Harper found herself grateful for the steadying pressure.
"Ready?" Sebastian murmured.
"No."
"Perfect. Neither am I." His hand pressed slightly more firmly. "Let's be convincing."
They walked toward the entrance together, Harper's heels clicking against the stone pathway. The door opened before they reached it opened by actual staff in formal attire revealing a foyer that looked like something from an architectural magazine. Marble floors, a curved staircase worthy of a movie set, artwork on the walls that was probably worth more than the Adriatic's total value.
And people. So many people in expensive clothes holding expensive drinks and having expensive conversations.
The talking didn't stop when they entered, but it changed. Harper felt every eye shift toward them, felt the weight of two hundred simultaneous assessments. Her instinct was to run, to hide, to retreat back to her comfortable anonymity.
Instead, she straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and smiled.
A woman approached them immediately younger than Sebastian, with dark hair and warm eyes that seemed genuinely happy. She wore a dress that somehow managed to look both casual and expensive, the kind of effortless elegance that money couldn't actually buy.
"Seb." She hugged Sebastian tightly, then turned to Harper with undisguised curiosity. "You must be Harper. I'm Claire. The sister he forgot to mention existed until about three days ago."
"Claire." Sebastian's tone held a warning.
"What? It's true. I had to hear about your engagement from Amanda, of all people." Claire extended her hand to Harper, her grip warm and firm. "It's lovely to meet you. Finally, since my brother apparently doesn't believe in normal family communication."
Harper shook her hand, immediately liking this woman despite the complicated circumstances. "It's nice to meet you too. Sebastian mentioned you run a foundation?"
"Arts education for underserved communities. Very boring at parties." Claire grinned at
Sebastian. "I like her. She has actual manners, which is more than I can say for…"
"Claire." This time the warning was sharper.
Claire just laughed, completely unintimidated by her brother. "We should have coffee. Real coffee, not whatever performance this is. I want to hear everything about how you managed to land Seattle's most commitment-phobic bachelor."
Before Harper could formulate a response that was both truthful and convincing, another figure approached. The silver-haired man from Sebastian's office weeks ago, the one who'd looked at Harper with such dismissive contempt.
Up close, Marcus Hyland was even more intimidating. Cold blue eyes that missed nothing, an expensive suit that screamed old money, the bearing of someone who'd spent decades in positions of power.
"Sebastian." His voice was smooth, cultured, with an edge underneath. "And this must be the bride-to-be. How... unexpected."
Sebastian's hand tightened almost imperceptibly on Harper's back. "Marcus. Harper, this is Marcus Hyland. My grandfather's former business partner."
"How do you do, Mr. Hyland." Harper extended her hand, channeling every ounce of confidence she didn't actually feel.
Marcus took her hand, his grip assessing. His eyes studied her face like he was trying to memorize every detail for later analysis. "Charming. Tell me, Ms. Vale, how exactly did you and Sebastian meet? The timeline seems remarkably... brief."
The question was casual, conversational. But Harper heard the trap in it, the test.
This was what Sebastian had warned her about. This was Marcus looking for cracks in their story.
Harper smiled, hoping it looked genuine. "We met through business, actually. Sebastian's company had expressed interest in a property I inherited. We started talking about the project, and..." She glanced at Sebastian, who was watching her with something like surprise in his eyes. "Well, sometimes you realize someone sees the world the same way you do. The timeline might seem fast to other people, but when you know, you know."
"How romantic." Marcus's tone suggested he didn't believe a single word. "I look forward to getting to know you better, Ms. Vale. I'm sure we'll have many opportunities over the coming months."
He walked away, leaving a chill in his wake despite the warmth of the crowded room.
"That was perfect," Sebastian murmured against her ear. "Exactly right."
"He doesn't believe us."
"He doesn't want to believe us. There's a difference." Sebastian's hand remained on her back as he guided her deeper into the party. "Come on. Let's get through the rest of these introductions."
The next two hours were a blur of names and faces and polite conversations that Harper would never remember. Sebastian stayed close the entire time, his hand always somewhere on her back, her waist, her hand. The touches were light, appropriate, but constant.
They were performing, Harper reminded herself. Playing their roles.
But somewhere around hour three, with champagne making her head fuzzy and Sebastian's laugh rumbling besid
e her at something Claire had said, Harper realized the performance was starting to feel disturbingly natural.
And that terrified her more than anything Marcus Hyland could do