"Of course, Mr. Smirnov," Celine says immediately.
I force my legs to move and start walking towards her. My gait is wooden and stiff. She smiles politely at me, and I realize that it would have been awkward if he had introduced me as a married woman when it must be obvious that I am here as some sort of temporary mistress. I leave the room without looking back.
"Since we haven't been formally introduced, I'm Celine Bradford, and I'll be your personal assistant during your stay here."
"Nice to meet you, Miss Bradford." We start walking up the grand marble staircase.
"Please, call me Celine," she says immediately.
"All right. Then you must call me, Star."
"I love your name."
"Thank you."
When we reach the top, she waves her palm out to the left of us. "It's just this way." The corridor is wide, with a carpet running down the middle of it. There are many doors leading off it. My room is the first one.
She opens it, and oh, my goodness me, it is like something out of a storybook. The wallpaper depicts climbing roses. One wall is taken up by a massive, dark-wood, four-poster with a dusky rose canopy. There is a gorgeous armoire with painted panels and a cream antique day bed. Tall doors lead off to a balcony.
Celine goes ahead of me and opens the armoire. It has a few items of clothing hanging inside it. She turns to me. "They are all in your size. After you choose something, I'll help you with your hair." She smiles. "I'm actually a trained hairdresser."
"Oh! Have you worked here long?"
"No. I was hired last week to assist you."
My eyes widen with shock. Wow! He hired someone especially for me. And the confidence! He was so sure I'd come. "What are you supposed to do for me?" I ask softly.
"I can turn my hand to almost anything. I can help with your hair, press your clothes, bring you breakfast in bed, take instructions for special meals, run general errands like getting your favorite magazines, or driving into the village for anything you need. Whatever that makes your stay here more comfortable and pleasant, I guess."
"I see."
I walk over to a window and look out. My room is front facing and opens out to a balcony that stretches along the main part of the house. Elegant stone balustrades edge it. From where I am standing I can look down and see the cars on the gravel car park, the long winding driveway, and a view of the wonderful ancient trees dotting the grounds.
"Would you like to pick out a dress for tonight?" Celine asks, breaking into my thoughts.
I turn around, and she smiles brightly.
"I guess so," I say dully.
"Great," she says enthusiastically with another big smile. It is clear she is trying very hard to please me and I start to feel slightly sorry for her. She is just trying to do her job.
I walk towards her and decide that I will not make her life difficult. None of this is her fault.
Chapter Seventeen
Star
Standing next to Celine, I rifle through the small collection of outfits.
There are seven items, and I can tell even without looking at the labels that they are all uber expensive. It is also quickly apparent that they are all extremely sexy. A mix of plunging necklines, backless designs, daring slits.
There is a beautiful silver mini dress that Rosa would love, and a clinging, silk pantsuit I wouldn't be caught dead in, but there is also a long, black dress with a deep-plunge, wraparound halterneck.
"Great choice. Very classy," Celine approves.
I undress quickly.
"You won't be able to wear a bra with this.
I ditch my bra, and pull the daring dress up over me. Celine ties it at the back of my neck, then comes around the front to stand a couple of feet in front of me.
"It suits you perfectly," she says with a satisfied nod.
Then, she crouches down on the floor, and pulls out a shoe box from the bottom of the armoire. "How about these Jimmy Choos to go with your dress, hmmm?" she asks, lifting up a beautiful pair of gold textured lamé sandals trimmed with sleek, black leather. The heels are at least four inches high.
"Okay," I approve.
She puts them on the ground, and I slip my feet one at a time under the cross-over straps while she fastens the ankle buckles. They fit perfectly. I don't ask her why they do. I just file it away as information that needs clarification.
She stands up and grins. "That was easy. Now, how would you like to wear your hair?"
I shrug. "Whatever you think is best."
"I would suggest something plain and Grecian."
"Fine."
I sit on the bed while Celine does my hair. She works quickly, fluffing it, braiding it, and adding a gold-leaf comb on one side.
She stands back and eyes me critically. "I think we'll keep the look plain. Maybe just red lipstick and black eyeliner?"
I shrug again.
I can't help feeling I've lost control of the situation. I feel like a doll, or one of those courtesans in the olden days. The way they used to be dressed by servants and made up before they were taken to the King to be deflowered. Celine opens packets of cosmetics and paints my eyes and lips.
"All done. Come and have a look," she invites.
I walk over to the mirror in a daze. My first reaction is to gasp. That's not me. I've never done my hair like that, and I can't remember the last time I painted my eyes like that or wore such a deep red on my lips. Worse, there is so much of me on display, as the neckline ends almost at my belly button. I take a step closer and I actually sway, as if I'm dizzy or drunk.
"I think you look beautiful," Celine says.
I catch her eyes in the mirror. "You don't think it's a bit slutty?"
Her eyes widen. "No, I don't. Not at all. You look incredible. I promise you, Mr. Smirnov will be very pleased."
"Will he?" I find myself whispering.
"Yes," she says firmly.
I frown.
"Would you like me to escort you to the dining room?"
"Where is it?"
"Next to the room where we met."
"In that case, I'll find it myself. Thank you for your help."
"Okay." She walks to a tasseled sash hanging next to the bed. "I'm in a room down the corridor. If you need me just pull on this. It will ring in my room."
I thank her again, she wishes me good night, and slips out of my room. I turn back towards my reflection. With a start of surprise, I realize that I have not thought of Nigel once since arriving. I quickly take my cell out of my purse and call him.
He answers on the first ring. "Oh, thank god, you called. I've been going out of my mind with worry. Are you all right?" His voice is distraught and urgent.
"Yes," I say walking towards the mirror.
"Where are you now?"
I stare at my dolled-up self in the mirror. "In the bedroom that's supposed to be mine during my stay here."
"Are you alone?"
"Yes."
"Where is he?"
"Downstairs, I think."
"Have you met him yet?"
"Yes, as soon as I arrived."
He exhales sharply. "Was he … all right with you?"
"Yes."
"He didn't … do anything to you, did he?"
I bite my lip. "No."
"Oh, Star. I can't believe that you're there. That my stupidity has caused this. I don't know if I can take much more. I've been pacing the floor ever since you left. I've never been alone in this house without you in the evening and it's horrible. I'm so fucking lonely." He makes a sobbing sound.
"It's okay, Nigel. If we get through this we'll be stronger for it," I say the platitude automatically, without believing it.
"Promise?" he sniffs.
"Promise," I lie. There is a different creature in the mirror staring back at me. That is not Star. That is someone else who has been hiding inside me all these years. In my heart, I know, that nothing will be the same again.
"What are you going to do now?" he asks.
"I'm going down to dinner."
"With him?"
"Yes."
"And after that?"
I say nothing.
"Oh God," he chokes.
"Perhaps it might be better if we don't talk about that part of this arrangement again, Nigel."
"You're right. I'm being selfish. This must be so difficult for you. Will you call me later? Before you go to sleep."
"I'll try."
"Please, Star. Please. You must find a way to talk to me again tonight. I won't be able to sleep. I won't be able to do anything. I'm a total wreck."
"Okay, I will."
"I love you. I never knew just how much until this evening."
"Yeah, I love you too."
"Think of me, Star."
"All right then."
"Don't let him take you away from me. Think of me even when you are with him."
I feel a surge of anger and I force it down. "I've got to go, Nigel."