Opportunities Come But Once

Gianna was now aware of her position against Mason's chest. She quickly pulled away, almost stumbling in her haste to get off him.

"I... I'm so sorry," she stammered then gestured to the mess around, “I never meant for—"

While she was still trying to talk, the security came in and they also took note of the disarray.

“Sir, are you—" The lead guard's question died as Mason raised a hand. Every feature of his face was locked in place.

The security team, understanding the signal, now fanned out around the room and started gathering the mess. Gianna stepped aside, feeling nothing more than an actual intruder in that space before she also bent to pick up some of the items, but the men didn’t let her so she backed away again to the edge of the room where she watched as the men restored order to the place. The shelf was reassembled and the books were stacked again size by size.

When they were done, the lead guard turned to Mason, who had been observing in stony silence.

"The area is secure, sir. We'll have a full report within the hour."

Mason gave a curt nod.

"Leave."

The team filed out in a manner of exit as synchronized as their entry. And when the last one of them crossed the threshold, Gianna found her voice again.

"Mason, I—"

"You too."

His interjection was sharp.

Gianna swallowed with a nod. But she soon noticed an unusual movement in Mason's left hand.

It was trembling. It was a very slight fidgety movement, but one that seemed like he was unable to control.

"Oh my God, are you—" Gianna stepped closer to him out of sudden concern, now remembering that she’d bumped into his hand as well as she fell earlier.

"I SAID, LEAVE!" Mason's voice, which was always so modulated in board meetings and press conferences, now thundered through the room.

Gianna jumped back, then obediently backed away until she turned around and left the room.

"What was that in there?" she mused to herself as she walked in the empty corridor, towards her room. The scene in Mason's study kept replaying in her mind like a glitching video stuck on loop; the falling bookshelf, their accidental entanglement ; the tremoring hand, amd the roar that was more than just anger.

Gianna rubbed her temples.

"God, Gianna, why don’t you ever mind your own business?" she scolded herself.

She reached her bedroom and threw herself into the bed, bouncing slightly on the mattress before burying her face in a cloud of cotton pillows with a muffled umph that symbolized her embarrassment from earlier. Then she rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling.

Her phone hummed silently against the duvet.

She twisted around and reached for it, expecting it to be her friend, and it indeed was Sonia calling.

She answered, trying to inject some normalcy into her voice.

"Hey, Sonia, what's—"

"Girl, you're blowing up!" Sonia's excitement burst through the speaker, loud enough for Gianna to hold the phone away from her ear.

"Have you checked the news? Any news? All the news?"

Gianna sat up. Her friend's energy had now cut through her earlier contemplative mood.

"What? No, I've been... busy.”

"I don’t care what kind of busy, check the internet, now."

Now intrigued, Gianna put Sonia on speaker and opened her browser. Her eyes instantly flew wide when she saw her screen being bombarded with images of her own face, everywhere. These weren’t headshots from her acting portfolio or behind-the-scenes glimpses from any film sets.

They were glossy, high-resolution photos of the so-called wedding day. Tons of headlines blazed every gossip site and business journal:

"POWER COUPLE ALERT: Tech Titan Mason Weds Rising Star"

"From Boardroom to Bedroom: Mason's Surprise Marriage"

"Silver Valley's Most Eligible Bachelor Off the Market!"

"Oh my God," Gianna breathed, scrolling through the articles.

Even as an actress she’d never blown up this much.

"I know, right?" Sonia squealed. "You're basically a full-blown celebrity now.”

Gianna stared at her image, elegantly poised beside Mason.

The photo was perfect—too perfect.

"I... I don't know what to think," she admitted. "This overnight fame, it's—"

"Fabulous? Game-changing? The best thing that's ever happened to your career?" Sonia interjected.

Gianna fell back into the pillows. "I'm not sure it's the kind of attention I wanted. I've been working so hard to make it on my own terms and build my reputation independently. This feels like a shortcut…”

She could imagine Sonia rolling her eyes on the other side of the phone.

"Honey, there's no such thing as bad publicity. You're the talk of the town. Every director and every producer who opens Twitter or picks up a tabloid sees your face next to one of the most influential men. That's not just fame, that's power by association."

Gianna was still unconvinced. She'd always believed in the purity of her craft and in letting her performances speak for themselves. Using the fake marriage for professional gain felt disingenuous.

“Look, think about the connections. Mason’s obviously got loads of those. Being his wife however temporarily still puts you in rooms you'd probably spend years trying to get into otherwise."

“Well,” Gianna trailed off. She knew her friend was right.

“But really, Gianna, this Mason thing, as crazy as it seems, it's your golden ticket. Six months playing the perfect wife, then you relaunch yourself as a star.”

Funnily enough Gianna actually started picturing herself walking down the red carpet of an award show with cameras flashing around her like a constellation of stars, with critics and fans alike calling out her name. She would then pause to give the photographers her best angle. Next, she saw herself on a film set, the kind of production she'd always dreamed to be part of.

“Are you still there?”

Gianna's eyes snapped open.

“Yeah,” she rubbed her forehead and repeated, “Yeah...I get you. This is might really be my big break,"

"Exactly, but don't just sit back and let it happen. I know you’re not allowed to delve into any personal projects until your marriage contract is over, but you should still make the most out of it."

Gianna nodded. "I will.”

"Go, girl!” Sonia exclaimed.

Gianna broke out with a smile, turning in her stomach, “You know, there's no way I'd be in this position without you, Sonia. You’re always keeping me focused and calling me out when I need it."

"What are friends for?" Sonia replied lightly, although, they both knew her role went far deeper than casual cheerleading.

"You're the best. And you know what?" Gianna's eyes sparkled. “I'm definitely going to make sure you enjoy the spoils of my new life too. After all, I'll need a professional bestie to keep me grounded amid all the glitz and glamor."

Sonia gasped in feigned shock. "You mean I'll finally get to be the token 'best friend' in those cringey celebrity puff pieces? 'Sonia Smith has been by Gianna's side through all her successes...'"

They both dissolved into laughter, and as the mirth faded, Sonia spoke again.

"Seriously though. Don't let this chance slip away, you hear me? Take every opportunity, every connection, and run with it."

"Got it," Gianna replied.

"That's what I like to hear.”

"Love you, Sonia. Couldn't do any of this without you."

"Love you too, babe."

The call ended, and Gianna set her phone aside with a contented sigh. She stretched out on the her arms and legs and let the silence envelope her. Sonia's pep talk had reignited a fire inside her, and not just ambition, but self-assurance.

A soft knock came on the door, causing Gianna to bolt upright. She got off the bed and went to open the door, slightly at first then wider when she saw the house worker staring back at her.

"Good evening, ma'am. I was asked to give you this."

It was then that Gianna noticed the large box the maid cradled in her arms. It was black and adorned with a golden ribbon. The woman held out the package, waiting patiently for Gianna to receive it.

"Thank you," Gianna said and took the box. It was surprisingly light for its size.

She shot the maid a quizzical look, but the woman only gave another polite smile before turning around and retreating down the corridor.

Gianna curiously went back inside, kicking the door closed with her foot. She carried the mysterious package to her bed, gently setting it down on the rumpled duvet.

She undid the ribbon and then lifted the lid off the box. There was a black shimmering dress in the box after she pulled off the tissue paper covering it. Quite odd, she thought. It was obviously from Mason, but why would he?

She pulled it out of the box and held it out in front of her.

Then she noticed a note attached to the box, now dropping the dress and picking up the paper.

“Get ready at 5pm tomorrow,” It read.