My Husband Chose His Ex I Became His Regret novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Lila

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The lady who is putting diamond studs in my hair charges a whopping $10,000 an event, and I am doing everything I can to keep myself still while she completes her artistry.

“Breathe.” Celestine says softly in her beautiful French accent. She specifically flew in from Paris to do my hair for this evening’s event, and I am still in disbelief that this is now my life! “You are as tense as a violin string. We cannot have you breaking before your performance tonight, non?”

Tonight is indeed a performance, as the Bellmont Charity Gala is being held tonight. Fancy dress code, five hundred of the most powerful people in town, including Mark Knight.

Oh my god, Mark will be there. I can feel my stomach flip. Celestine saw the movement out of the corner of her eye, and when she sees it again in the mirror, she says, “No no no,” and spins my chair away from the mirror.

“No looking yet, and you will only see the final product when it is finished.”

I did not think this type of preparation would take four days, but they have flown by quickly with only one of them remaining before the event. While preparing David Kong, Aidan’s CFO, has been drilling me on the financial statements for this event to the point where I would be able to read a balance sheet in my sleep. As I spent time with Aidan in meetings, I discovered that many times silence has a more significant impact than talking. The first person who negotiates will often lose. Power is about what is perceived to be true as much as it is about what is actually true.

In my two sessions with Patricia yesterday, she had me role-play entering a room full of people who may judge me during the gala. I practiced how I would respond to Mark if he approached me at the gala, what I would say to Sienna if she sneered at me, and how to handle the questions about my ex-husband’s divorce.

Patricia told me, “You do not explain, justify, or apologize. You simply exist, powerfully, and unapologetically. Let them speculate and let them imagine you as they wish. Mystery can be one of your most powerful weapons.”

Marcus hired Genevieve to teach me etiquette. Genevieve is a British woman with over twenty years of experience, is seventy years old and is terrifying! She taught me which fork to use, how to hold a champagne glass (you should hold the stem instead of the bowl; only amateurs hold the bowl), how to make small talk without making oneself sound desperate, how to exit gracefully from a conversation, and how to appropriately shake hands with someone who thinks they are more important than you.

“The secret of etiquette is to make the person you are speaking to feel important while never making yourself feel less than they are. You are not less than them; you simply allow them to think that they are worth something. You give them this gift; it is not a concession you make.”

At the end of each day, I would go to bed with my head full of information about wine etiquette, business protocol and how to behave according to social etiquette.I have a list of fifty important people and what position they are in. How to tell old money from new money and make sure I can deal with both. How to laugh at things that may or may not be funny and not make it look like I am faking. How to answer difficulties about questions that are difficult to answer.

10:01 Wed, May 13 M

Chapter 22

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Behind her, Yuki, the makeup artist who’s worked with Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, every major fashion magazine. is organizing her brushes with the precision of a surgeon. She’s been working on my face for forty- five minutes, barely speaking, just studying my features with an intensity that made me squirm at first.

Now I’m numb to it. To all of it. The touching, the scrutinizing, the being treated like a canvas.

“We are creating a masterpiece,” Yuki had announced when she arrived. “Aidan Storm does not request my services lightly. He said you need to look unforgettable. So we make you unforgettable.”

The gown hanging on the rack behind me cost…I’m afraid to even think about it. When Margot delivered it yesterday, she’d simply said: “This is the one. Trust me.”

The dress is a custom made Elie Saab, with champagne silk that reflects light like liquid gold, which hugs my body without desperation. A neckline that hints without revealing. A slit that shows leg without trying too hard. Delicate beading across the bodice that must have taken hundreds of hours to hand-sew.

It’s the most stunningly beautiful thing I have EVER seen!!

When I go to this function there will be no blending into the furniture or the walls or anywhere else. There is only going to be me and the people there to see me. I will be seen. Truly seen.

The old me would have found an excuse and run away or faked being sick or done everything possible to keep myself from doing something like this.

The old me is dead.

“Your hair looks great,” Celestine tells me as she proudly shows off her handiwork. I wish I had a good way to see what it looks like but the mirror is angled away. However, what I can tell is that my hair is pinned up in a very intricate way and it took her at least two hours to do.

“You’re finished. Yuki can finish your makeup.”

Yuki comes over with a case of eyeshadow. I can’t even imagine how much this case of eyeshadow costs. She tells me to close my eyes. I close my eyes and she applies shadow to them with such a soft brush. Not only is she taking her time and putting on the eyeshadow perfectly, but she is also assessing each time to make sure it is the look she wants.

“The eyes are the most important.” Yuki says to me in a whisper. “You need to have strong but soft eyes. You need to have alluring but not desperate eyes. When people take their time looking at you, they will remember your eyes first.”

My phone vibrates on the vanity. I look down and see a text from Patricia. She writes, “Remember you are not the woman Mark threw away; you are the woman he lost the privilege of knowing, and there is a huge difference.”

I take a screenshot and add it to the other 50+ screenshots of encouraging messages. I save these as reminders that others believe in me even when I don’t believe in myself.

Another vibration.Margot this time:

That dress is going to go viral. Tap into your inner goddess because you were meant for this.

Wed, May

Chapter 22

Simone:

Walk in there as chérie, after tonight you will own the building.

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I feel as though I have been given a blessing and felt appreciation and fear at the same time. These are women who weeks ago didn’t know me, but took time to help me to find the real me. They are doing it because Aidan asked them to do so.

Because Aidan thinks I am worth it.

I start to feel the warm funny feeling again as I remember walking into Aidan’s office, the way he looked at me, his eyes wide open, and his jaw tight, the surprise on his face for just a moment.

When he said my name…Lila.

Like I was something valuable, like I really matter.

Yuki says “Open.”

I open my mouth and she shows me two colour lipsticks, one natural, one deeper rose.

“Which one will give you power?” she asks.

I point to the rose. The natural colour is safe; the old Lila would have chosen the natural.

Yuki smiles at me and says “You are doing well.”

She uses a brush to put it on, gently and carefully, and then stands back and looks at Celestine.

Yuki says “We are ready”. “Where’s the dress?”

Margot’s assistant Claire, brings over the Elie Saab and I step in and carefully zip it up the back.

The silk is cool on my skin. My outfit fits perfectly to my curves, measured down to the millimetre. The beadwork will reflect light and create little prisms all around the room when I move. The slit of my dress will fall perfectly when I walk and will show just enough leg to keep it interesting.

The way the dress looks makes me feel empowered and dangerous, like I am wearing an armour of beauty.

“Shoes,” Celestine says.

Claire brings in sandals made of champagne-coloured leather with delicate ankle straps and five-inch heels; despite being extremely expensive, they feel comfortable.

Once I am in them, I have instantly added height. My posture changes automatically; my shoulders go back, my spine straightens out and my chin raises. The shoes hold me accountable for this adjustment.

“Jewellery,” Yuki says.

Claire brings me something in a velvet box, opens it and reveals: diamond drop earrings that are sparkling from the light, delicate bracelets and no necklace because nothing above my neckline is needed.

10:01 Wed, May 13

Chapter 22

96

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Claire and Yuki accessorise me in silence, taking their time to properly fix everything just right.

“Now,” Celestine’s voice is soft and full of satisfaction “now you can turn around and see yourself.”

Celestine turns my chair around to face the full-length mirror and I don’t recognise the person in the reflection.

The woman staring back at me is…

I have no words.

My hair is done in an elaborate updo, my blonde hair is arranged into a series of waves and pinned back into place with diamond pins that twinkle when I move. A few strands frame my face making it appear soft without being messy.

My make-up is perfect; I have the smokiest of eyes that highlight the amber colour, and my cheekbones are highlighted. The lipstick is the color of a rose, bold and refined, and I feel glamorous and polished, as though I have always been wealthy and have had a team of people to make me look gorgeous.

The dress! OMG!!! The dress fits me like it was made for my body. The champagne color enhances my skin tone. The beads catch all the light sources and sparkle on me without being too loud. The leg slit is sexy without being trashy. The neckline has taste and is interesting as well.

I feel like I am beautiful and belong to be at a gala or anywhere else for that matter.

“Mon Dieu,” said Celestine. “We have created a work of art.”

Yuki was taking pictures with her phone. “This is going to go in my portfolio. You look fabulous Lila.”

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