by Rosie Praks
Whitney was about to place her glasses back on when Clarice slapped her hand away. Again.
What’s with this woman? Whitney thought. She was sure Hunter had put in some drinking potion to make her friend behave like this. Clarice was spicier now.
“You’re not wearing those for my wedding. Wear contacts or something.”
“Clarice, Whitney doesn’t need glasses. Her eyes are perfectly fine,” Elise supplied.
“Right. I forgot. Then it’s a deal. Whitney, you’re wearing that gown on my wedding day, no glasses.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Clarice and Elise chorused.
“Fine.” Whitney huffed, giving up.
She didn’t like to fight with any of them. Clarice was already sensitive when it came to these matters. It was her wedding after all. Whitney would comply with her friend’s wishes, even if she had to go against her normal dress code.
Oh well, it wasn’t like anyone at work would see her in this dress anyway. She could still keep her professional life and private life separate. And that included her wardrobe.
As Whitney was about to remove the flower from her hair again, Clarice dropped another bomb out of the blue. “We’re getting married in Queenstown.”
Whitney wheeled her eyeballs like marbles to her friend, her hand still in midair. “You have got to be kidding me. In Queenstown? Why?”
That was totally a surprise she didn’t see coming. Never had they discussed Clarice’s wedding destination. She’d always thought they would get married in Auckland. It was her home after all. Why Queenstown, for God’s sake? And why did she just tell her now?
“Because.” Clarice’s face blushed pink again.
Oh God, this doesn’t sound good.
“Because of what? You know how cold that place is.” Whitney was almost at her limit. All these surprises. They weren’t doing her heart any good. Nor her head.
“Oh, stop it, Whitney. Just because you don’t like cold places, you can’t stop me from getting married there.” Clarice turned her face away.
What is up with my friend?
“Don’t tell me you want to get married in that place just because of the beautiful scenery. There’s more to it, isn’t there?”
There must be more to it. Whitney knew. Clarice disliked traveling as much as she did. And especially to cold cities, too. That was why she’d moved to Auckland in the first place, to stay away from that cold, godforsaPreston city Dunedin.
Whitney was about to ask Elise, but she was already chuckling as if she already knew the answer.
“You know, Elise?” She whipped her attention to her other friend.
Elise shook her head but still had that silly grin on. Whitney turned back to Clarice. “What is it? Tell me. Don’t keep me in suspense here.”
“But she’s shy,” Elise said, still grinning. “Tell Godmother Whitney that Mommy is too shy to say it.”
“All right, tell me right now, Clarice. Or else I’m not going.” She threatened her friend. “You can get married with just Elise as your bridesmaid.”
“Okay, okay. I want to get married there because it was the place Hunter and I did it the first time.”
“Oh, fudge.” Whitney massaged her temple. “Just because of that? So you want to reminisce your sexual encounter, honeymoon thingybob, on that same bed, in the same hotel?”
“Yes.” Clarice nodded.
“Oh God, Clarice.” She thumped her forehead in frustration. “Your fiancé owns Silverton Hotel in Queenstown. Why on earth would you want to sleep at Torque?”
“I told you already. We want to reminisce our time there,” Clarice replied casually.
“Please tell me it’s his evil idea. He convinced you, didn’t he? He planted that seed inside your head until it brewed. Didn’t he?” She knew Hunter had given her friend that secret potion. There was no doubt about it now.
“Nope, all mine. I told him that,” Clarice replied casually again, which surprised Whitney.
“Oh, I bet he jumped on you,” she guessed.
“Nope, I jumped on him,” Clarice revealed.
“Oh, Clarice, where has my timid friend gone?”
Whitney messaged her temple again. That headache was now here, throbbing like a drum. But still, she couldn’t believe what Clarice had just said. Just because they accidently had sex when they were in Queenstown together didn’t justify them to get married in that cold, wretched weather. Especially in the middle of winter, too.
Oh drat. This was utterly dreadful. Clarice knew Whitney despised cold weather. Sometimes she thought she was a reptile born in human skin. She always needed the warmth to keep her sanity.
And thinking about things she despised, she despised this dress, too. She just wanted to get back to her witch persona so she could vent her frustrations. Maybe on her little personal assistant, Darcy.
Ahhh, Darcy. Why did she even call him little anyway? There was nothing little about Darcy. He was big, gigantic, huge. His broad shoulders were almost a meter wide. Okay, maybe that was stretching it a bit. But the point was Darcy was huge. He never failed to make her heart pound whenever she had to stand next to him. Like yesterday, for example, standing next to him to give him that tie.
Gosh, that boy. He didn’t know when to rest, did he? Those bags under his eyes. She wondered what he was doing last night. Probably up playing his Xbox or PlayStation, like all young boys did. No wonder he was sleeping while she went to meet Clarice yesterday. She wasn’t that stupid not to know when his hair was evidence enough, like a sparrow’s nest. Thankfully, she didn’t punish him further, but just let him wear that tie. It was her way of intimidating him.
Maybe she should rephrase that. She had to act brave to intimidate him. The truth was she was the one intimidated by him. His sheer physique alone frightened her. And she wasn’t small by any standard. Among her friends, she was the tallest, followed by Elise, and finally Clarice, their petite little friend. But still, whenever she saw him, she couldn’t help shaking in her high heels.
Maybe he reminded her too much of her ex-boyfriend, Jonathan. But the two men were as different as chalk and cheese. Jonathan was strong, brave, a man who could protect a woman in any weather, whereas Darcy… What could she say? He was as timid as a mouse. Just her pretending to be the witch, he was already shaking in his boots. But she supposed that was a good thing. She really did enjoy teasing him. Especially when he was the one who was responsible for humiliating Clarice on that date they went on a year or so ago.
Oh, she remembered his face all right, the minute he sat in that chair during that interview six months ago. And she was glad he got the job. Now she could tease him all she wanted.
Glancing at the clock, Whitney turned her mind to more important matters. There was no time to think about her submissive personal assistant right now. She had to get back to the office for that meeting with Preston Sakamoto. So she quickly unzipped the bridesmaid dress and got into her black one. Except when she was about to zip it back up, the zipper broke.
“Blast and triple blast, blast,” she swore. “What just happened?”
Clarice hurried to her side, inspecting the damage. “See, that’s what happens when you’re in a hurry.” Her friend had to add salt to her already open wound.
“Don’t worry. Just wear this gown to work,” Elise offered, picking up a random lilac dress from a nearby rack.
Whitney didn’t know what she was getting into until Clarice zipped her up. Her eyeballs almost dropped to the floor as soon as she saw her own image. This dress showed more of her skin than her bridesmaid dress. It literally accentuated her slim hourglass figure.
“I am not wearing this to work, guys. I’m working. I’m in my serious businesslike persona. The witch, you know, as Max always says. Hence, I need my black dress.” Whitney panicked.
“I know, Whitney, but obviously, we don’t have time for the seamstress to fix your dress right now,” Clarice said, patting her arm.
; This was ridiculous and utterly, utterly… Oh, she was just too beautiful, too cute. It wasn’t her style at work. She needed to look serious.
“I can’t wear this. I look like a sixteen-year-old kid out for her first date. Isn’t there anything else I could—”
“I thought you had a Japanese guest waiting for you? Shouldn’t you be off now?” Clarice reminded her.
“Oh, shoot! I almost forgot. I need to go.”
Kissing Conrad on the cheek and waving good-bye to her friends, Whitney ran out of the bridal store and straight into her car, slamming on the foot pedal and zooming the car out of the lot, hoping to reach her office before her assigned meeting time with Preston Ballantine, forgetting altogether that she was in that wee cute dress.
Chapter 4
“Damn the traffic jam,” Whitney swore under her breath. When she was in a hurry, why must she get stuck in traffic like this? Then again, she shouldn’t be complaining. E Enterprises, the building she worked in, was nestled right in the middle of town, the central metropolitan area. And right now, cars were beeping left and right, causing her mood to erupt.
And then the phone had to ring, too. Who would it be but her second aunt, Gerda? She rolled her eyes and put on her earpiece.
“Hello, Aunt Gerda.”
“Whitney, my dear.” The soothing voice of Aunt Gerda rolled into her ears. “Oh, wait, I sense you’re in hurry. You are in a hurry, right, Whitney?”
“Wow, Aunt Gerda. You really are the clairvoyant. Yes, I’m in a hurry and you’re calling me while I’m driving,” she said with annoyance.
“You’ve got your earpiece on, right?” Gerda commented. “Otherwise, you shouldn’t be talking on the phone like this.”
Whitney was starting to get irritable. “Yes, you’re right, Aunt Gerda. Then I shall disconnect the call.”
Whitney was about to when her aunt screeched into the phone. “My dear, not yet. We need to discuss some things.”
Whitney rolled her eyes again. “Is there anything you need right now. I’m in a hurry.” She turned the corner and almost hit a student, crossing the road. Her temper just hit the roof. She rolled the window down and yelled out, “Hey, where are you hurrying to? You want to meet your maker or something?”
Rolling the window back up, she exhaled, puffing out some steam on the way.
“I’m not in a hurry to go anywhere. I thought you’re the one who’s in a hurry.” Her aunt’s voice broke through the earpiece again.
“I’m not talking to you, Aunt Gerda. It’s those university students. They don’t value their lives one bit. Crossing the street like it’s a playground.”
“Well, you know, these uni kids. Hot bloods they are. Anyway…”
Oh, this wasn’t good. She knew this was coming, and no matter how many times she dodged their invitation, there came a time where she could no longer refuse.
“The girls and I”—her aunt started—“want you to come over. After work, perhaps?”
“I don’t know, Aunt Gerda. I’m kind of busy right now. Clarice is getting married, and I’m a bridesmaid. I have to prepare myself mentally.”
That excuse sounded quite logical. Hopefully, it would get her off the hook.
“All the more to prepare your mental state at your aunt’s house,” her aunt fired at her. And now there would be no escape. “Come over after work. Okay?”
“I don’t know, Aunt Gerda. I’m really busy right now.”
“Oh, come now, Whitney. There’re only the four of us now. We have to look after each other. Plus, you don’t want to disappoint your Aunt Beatrice.”
Oh God. No. Not Aunt Beatrice. Whitney could do anything, but she could never ever make Aunt Beatrice cross.
Even before her mother died and her father left them to live with his other woman, she’d always been close to her three aunts. She supposed a part of her behavior steamed from being brought up by them, too.
Aunt Gerda, the second aunt, worked as a clairvoyant. She called herself that, but most of the time, her predictions never came true. But she couldn’t tell her aunt that. Aunt Gerda was too sweet. She could literally burst into tears if anyone mentioned her fake quality.
Aunt Jacinta, her third aunt, on the other hand, was a fashionista. Her fashion sense was inherited from this particular aunt. Vintage, her aunt had called them. Coke bottle glasses, black couture gowns. All the latest fashion trends she ever needed advice on, Aunt Jacinta was the one she went to.
Now Aunt Beatrice, her first aunt, she was the strict one. No boyfriend. Be home at a particular time. Work your way up to reach the top of the career ladder.
So, in conclusion, her habits, behavior, and fashion style had all been inherited from them.
“No. No, I’ll go.” Whitney snapped out of her thoughts. “Tell Aunt Jacinta and Aunt Beatrice that I’ll be there. See you all tonight.”
On arrival at E Enterprises, her temper had exploded to smithereens. She jammed the car to a break and strutted out, not forgetting to slam the door so hard it vibrated on the hinges. She made her way inside, stalking into her office like a predator aiming for its prey, oblivious to the gawking male members of her staff, almost not recognizing their tyrant boss was this cute angelic woman, walking into the witch’s lair.
When she got into the office, she slammed the door shut and fired up her laptop, already knowing she was late for her Skype meeting with Preston, one of the most talked-about billionaires on the whole globe, all because of his many successful attributes. Not to mention he was young. Only twenty-eight years old.
“Mr. Ballantine, thank you for waiting. I’m so sorry. I was delayed in a traffic jam.” She hastily apologized when he came online.
Preston laughed. “It is perfectly fine, Miss Madigan. Auckland sounds pretty much like New York.”
Whitney smiled. “Whitney would be fine, Mr. Ballantine.”
“Then it’s Preston to you, Whitney.”
Whitney smiled at Preston. “When would be the best time to arrive?” she asked once they got the greetings out of the way.
For the E Magazine upcoming summer issue, Preston Ballantine was the featured article. Preston would need to come to New Zealand sometime before summer so they could conduct their interview in person and take a few photos for the article.
“I want to come in spring,” Preston said, eyes not focused on her. It was like he was staring off into space.
“Ahh,” she cleared her throat, drawing his attention back to her. “Then it would be around September to October, three months from now. Shall we make it October, then? I’ll organize all the accommodations for you. You’ll be staying in one of my friend’s partner’s hotel, the Silverton. It’s a lovely hotel. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”
“Yes, I have.” Preston smiled, although the expression on his face was a complete contrast to his smile. And once again, he stared off into space. He looked to be currently reminiscing about his past. That look reminded her of her friend Elise.
Mmmm. She wondered why that expression, then realized one possible reason.
“If you don’t want to stay at the Silverton, we could accommodate you in another hotel,” she offered, thinking Preston might not want to stay at Hunter’s hotel.
“No, no, it’s not that,” Preston said politely. “I’m fine. New Zealand is the only country I haven’t been to yet. I look forward to coming over.”
“That’s great. Then we shall conclude our meeting. Once again, sorry for being late.”
“That’s fine. I understand.” Then Preston eyed her suspiciously and smiled. “And by the way, Whitney,” he said before signing off, “you make a lovely bride.”
“Ahhh.” Whitney was speechless at Preston’s parting comment. She could only stare at the blank screen. “I make a lovely bride? What does Preston mean?”
Whitney was still speechless as she closed the laptop and walked absentmindedly to the wall mirror in her office. She glanced at herself in the mirror.
“What the
… fudge?” Words leaked out before she could stop herself.
She eyed the door. It was closed.
Thank God. No wonder Preston said she looked beautiful. Like a bride. It was because she was still wearing that lilac dress. She supposed she was too focused on getting to that interview with him that she’d totally forgotten she wore this dress.
Oh well. It wasn’t like it mattered anymore. All her staff must have seen her looking like this already. She supposed once in a while, it was nice to dress in something colorful, a contrast to her black clothing. Maybe that would shake her staff’s equilibrium a bit.
Whitney laughed at her own thoughts as she stared at herself in the mirror, examining her scrunched-up hair. That flower Clarice had put in was still there. She pulled it out and all her hair cascaded down like a black curtain.
Oh, all these accessories in her hair were starting to make her heart palpitate again. And not in a good way.
Shaking her head, she started taking off her dress, too. Except she found the zipper was way at the back and the dress was so tightly bound to her that she was struggling to even unzip the damn thing. For a whole ten minutes, she struggled with until she was so exhausted. Losing strength in the battle with her zipper, she slumped down in her chair…
Only to hear a wheezing sound coming from her chair.
“Stupid, clumsy chair. How troublesome,” she moaned, shifting in her seat. Or maybe it was she who’d gained weight. “Got to have more of those salads for lunch.”
Not that she was obsessed with beauty like all of her younger staff members, but she had to keep healthy. What with work piling up like Mount Everest, she had to keep fit in order to maintain her work status and her witch persona. There was an image she must uphold. If the boss gained weight, her staff would think she was just some joke.
“Ah, what a day,” she commented, sinking farther into her chair. And then her stomach had to make an angry growl, too.
That just did it.
Tired, exhausted, and now so damn hungry. Excellent.
Whitney regretted not eating those scones back at the bridal store when both her friends were munching on them. But didn’t she say she wanted to lose weight? And how much sugar was in those scones? Oh, the sadness of passing the big three-zero. Fat just kept piling up around the midsection if you didn’t eat right.