Page 13 of Twisted Truth

“How can I snap back at you after that?”

Matthew gives me a fiendish smile.

“But I still can’t do it. It feels so weird and wrong to me. I never do anything like that.”

“Would hearing Asher approve it change your mind?”

“What? No! He can’t know about any of this. The last thing I need is to look like a complete unprofessional mess in front of him.”

“Oh, you already accomplished that this morning, darling.”

I drop my head into my hands.

“But you redeemed yourself completely, so now you’re my new little project until you’re back on your feet. As I said, this is not from a wholly altruistic position on my part. Even though I find myself immediately adoring you, and I know we’re now meant to be friends, I am very much doing this for Asher’s benefit. He needs his team at their best, so I need you at your best. I’m calling him now.”

“No!” I shriek, but Matthew scoots his chair away from the table so he’s out of my reach. “Asher,” he says, smiling devilishly at me when Mr. Langford answers the call. “I’m going to put you on speaker, so watch what you say.” He pulls the phone away and presses the speaker button.

“Okay, Asher. Our dear little Ella from our PR team is in a bit of a pickle. I just got all the tea from her, and it is piping hot, just how I like it. But that’s not why I’m calling.” He proceeds to give Mr. Langford the cliff’s notes version of my breakup with Kyle, his thieving, my half-homeless state, and my burned wardrobe. I thought I was embarrassed this morning in my meeting, but this is a whole new level and now I really want the earth to swallow me whole. “So, I’m calling because Ella cannot possibly be expected to come into work without proper work attire, and I need to take her shopping to rectify the situation.We need to get her at least a couple weeks’ worth of outfits until her situation is all sorted out.”

My mouth is gaping now, and blood rushes to my cheeks. Can I just die? Please?

“Why are you calling me about it?” Asher asks, sharply.

Matthew’s eyes glint with anI told you solook. “Because Ella won’t let me help her with this little pickle without confirmation from you.”

“Just do it. Whatever needs to be done, just get it done. But I do want to know more about this situation with her accounts and her things being locked in his apartment.” He hangs up without another word.

“See? Easy.”

“You did not just do that.”

“I did. And you’re welcome. I have two free hours in my schedule while Asher’s in meetings, and I’ll email Emily to clear that time block for you as well. Let’s go shopping!”

Two hours later,my arms are full of bags, and I’m wearing a new outfit that actually fits me. Matthew complained the whole time that I was no fun after I shot down the idea of shopping at designer stores, but there’s no way I could do that. Shopping on Mr. Langford’s credit card was bad enough. I can’t even think about the anxiety attack I would have if there was another one or two zeros added to the total, which would have been the case with designer labels.

But I must say, Matthew is the best shopping partner I’ve ever had. He was the perfect combination of hype man, but he was also sweetly but brutally honest. Everything we purchased looks perfect on me because there is no way he would allow anything less. He even insisted we stop at the makeup counter on the way out, and he purchased a whole new line of makeupfor me while the sales girl did my makeup for the afternoon. I feel like an ugly duckling turned swan, all thanks to Matthew.

And now I’m ready to kick ass at this new position.

The afternoon flies by now that I’m not uncomfortable, and I’m stupidly thankful, if still embarrassed, that Matthew forced me to go shopping. He was right, it’s much easier to do my job when I’m not constantly focused on what I’m wearing.

Just before we leave for the day, the team has a last-minute meeting to go over some final points on the final two candidates.

“Lillian Luceria and Caroline Augustine,” Emily says, holding up their photos. “Rumor has it, Asher briefly dated Lillian years ago, so that may give her an advantage or possibly a disadvantage; I’ll text Matthew about it later. But since we are on a tight schedule, I’ll need you all to pull in some extra hours tonight. We haven’t found anything too incriminating about either of them, but that doesn’t mean someone else won’t. We need to be extra thorough. I want you all to keep at it. Scour the depths of the internet tonight. Find every last detail you can about these two women. We need to know everything we can about their pasts, but I also want to know about a variety of other things like their hobbies, their friends, the charities they support. I even want to know what they do and don’t like to eat. No detail is superfluous. The more we know, the more we can narrow down who would be most compatible with Mr. Langford.”

“I have a strange question,” I say. “Once the candidate is decided upon, how do we go about this? Does someone just call her up and invite her to a girlfriend interview? What if Asher doesn’t like her? Or what if she doesn’t like him?”

Emily shrugs and lets out a sigh, as flummoxed as I am.

“This is uncharted territory. I’ll let Mr. Langford decide the details of how to proposition the woman we decide on. But again, compatibility is highly important. If we’re going to foolthe masses, there can be no flaws between Mr. Langford and the candidate. Matthew has composed a short list of Mr. Langford’s likes and dislikes which I’ve emailed to all of you. Try to keep them in mind as you’re researching tonight. Good luck, and I’ll see you all bright and early.”

We file out after what can be classified as the weirdest work day ever, and an hour later, I set my shopping bags down when I enter Zahra’s empty apartment. She’s at work, and probably busy as hell in the midst of the dinner rush, and Alec works nights as well, so while it’s lonely, I’ll have a quiet space as I work. I’m feeling extra keen to do my job well after the less than stellar first impression I made with Mr. Langford, but I can’t think about work until I’ve eaten. I’m starving after an afternoon of shopping and meetings.

I search the fridge and let out an enthusiastic, “yes!” when I find homemade lasagna. Zahra almost always cooks a delicious lunch for herself and makes enough to feed me for dinner, which is a godsend, because I can’t cook for shit. She really is spoiling me and one day I hope to repay her and more.

After I stuff my face and have several food-gasms, I put my new clothes into the small plastic storage tower in the corner of the sitting area. Then I hang all the hanging clothes in the coat closet. The tiny closet is now full to bursting, and for a moment I feel a wave of claustrophobia. The apartment is tiny, meant for two people maximum. And here I am, taking up every last inch of space. I hate feeling like a burden, and worse, I hate feeling frustrated by the lack of space and the uncomfortable pressure of living in such confined quarters when I am the burden causing it. And that’s not going to change anytime in the near future. It’s going to be at least another two to three months here. Not only is apartment hunting rough at best, but I’ll need first and last month’s rent, plus a sizable deposit for any apartment. That’s going to take time to save up.

I let out a long breath and try to push my anxious thoughtsfrom my mind. There’s nothing I can do about it tonight, so I might as well focus on work. At least that will keep my thoughts occupied.