Faking love with ceo

as ten in t

, dressed in a severe charcoal suit, her blonde hair in a tight knot that was tearing the skin at her

t was sharp. Her eyes were a quick, crushing scan of Lina's

h from a sleepless night and she was feeling a bu

Colette stepped inside and the small living room seemed to shri

e, white loft in a warehouse that had been converted into an office space. Racks of clothing covered one wall, all neutral shades, ivory, black, navy. No colour. A tall, thin man named Stefan, who had a pin cushion in his wrist and a measuring tape wrapped around his neck like a scarf, w

ft, impersonal touches: the length of her inseam, the width of her waist, the span of

e. "It is appropriateness. Effortless elegance. Quiet without subservience. You have to be admire

as Stefan's fingers made

gallery opening tomorrow night. The artist is a client of Knight Global. You will be on his arm. You will smile when he smiles. You will answer when spoken

brought over the garment bag, and

mn of thick heavy silk. No glittering sequins, no frills, no daring cut

. We do al

n. It ran over her body, down to her ankles, a perfect, clean line. It was simple, but it changed her. The wom

good. It says nothing, which is good. The problem is with the

were short, low polished blocks, the same black silk. "You're going to have t

at they were close to fake, and little stud of diamonds in her ears. "Und

te without holding it like a rope. How to stand next to Alexander, always a little behind his left s

n. He may put his hand over yours. These are signals. Y

y something?" Lina sa

ay, 'It's a fascinating piece,' or 'Alexander has great taste.' You redirect any substantive

d been curled into a soft, low chignon by Stefan's assistant. Her face was dusted with makeup pro

d her a small

your phone on silent. That is all. You will be picked up tomorrow

in her old clothes. The ghost of the silk dress brushe

hair by the window. She turned as Lina wa

ve. You were gone

closed. The

vent. Might be regular wor

t a thin hand. "That's my girl

ky anymore. She'd sold herself. She was a thi

d, the instructions were humming in her h

he man she would have to try to prove to everyone that sh

the first test in twenty-four ho

ooking at the beautiful, mute woman in the mirror and