15|Smile And Look Pretty

The fountain was the first thing Natalie noticed when the car pulled up in front of the entrance. It was bigger than her flat and way prettier, too. But then again, everything about this place was incredible, from the well-maintained gardens she'd caught a glimpse of when they drove into the solid Cape Dutch facade.

The hotel supposedly housed one hundred and twenty-five guest rooms and fifteen suites. Natalie believed it. The place was massive. She'd need a map to find her way around.

Thankfully, Paul was already waiting for her at the entrance before the sheer size of The Empress could overwhelm her completely.

She'd expected a tall, gorgeous man in his thirties. But from his looks alone, Paul had no right to be the self-absorbed jerk Emily had described.

"Noelle?" He asked in a deep voice before he took her hand and kissed it.

But since he was such a gentleman, Natalie could almost put aside her first impressions of him. Almost.

"You must be, Paul," she said with a smile, slipping into her biggest role yet. When all this was over, she expected an Oscar or a nomination at the very least.

Without the help of her 4-inch heels, Natalie was on the short side, and Paul, in his insanely expensive but ill-fitting tuxedo, was heavyset and somewhat shorter than her.

He looked like a man who enjoyed an abundance of good food and wine, and she pegged him somewhere in the late forties to early fifties. Time had caught up with him rather too soon; the side part in his blond hair could not hide the thinning crown.

Natalie smiled at the irony. For someone obsessed with beauty and perfection, Paul had too many imperfections.

"You are—" he said, pausing as his pale blue eyes roamed all over her body, his thin lips curling upwards.

Please don't say it, please don't say it, Natalie prayed silently, her smile growing so wide her cheeks hurt. It was her biggest pet peeve, a deal-breaker. She hated it when people called her exotic simply because she was coloured, and if Paul so much as implied it, she was out. Nothing was going to stop her from turning around and calling an Uber.

"—Exquisite!" he finished off the compliment, and all the tension drained from her face as she relaxed her shoulders. It was a little overboard but not offensive. She grasped his sweaty palm lightly as he led her inside.

Cameras flashed as soon as they entered the glamorously decked-out lobby. But they were all trained on the man of the hour. Cell phones were shoved in Paul's face as reporters demanded a quote, a statement, an interview, anything to give their news rags the hottest headline.

Natalie hung back and blended in with the wallpaper, making sure to pass her first test and not steal Paul's thunder.

He wrapped up the impromptu press briefing in under ten minutes and guided her to The Blue Room. There were no traces of blue anywhere, though, and Natalie wondered where the name came from.

Paul was happy to clear up her curiosity.

The Blue Room was simply the name of the conference room now beautifully decorated in a black and silver motif and transformed into a venue fit for a gala in his honour.

The theme for the night was reminiscent of The Great Gatsby, with the women dressed in elegant flapper dresses of different colours and lengths and their hair sleeked back in 1920s hairstyles. The men looked equally dashing in their tuxedos and three-piece suits.

Aware that she was the only one not in theme, Natalie felt a little self-conscious and wondered if Emily had missed the memo. But then again, this was probably the best her friend and Aunty Viv could do at the last minute.

The whole time she hung on Paul's arm as they flitted around the room, shaking more sweaty hands from men whose names she forgot almost immediately and accepting cheek kisses from women she'd never see again, Natalie expected someone to rush up to her and expose her con.

She looked the part of an oil heiress in her fancy dress and Louboutins. But she felt like a complete fraud, and in many ways, she didn't belong here.

She was probably the youngest person in the room and the least accomplished. Everyone she'd met so far was either a doctor, lawyer, hotelier or CEO of some Rock Union Stock Exchange-listed company, and they'd all studied at big-name universities.

Surely these people, with their fancy clothes and impressive titles, could tell that the furthest she'd ever been from home was church camp at Pine Crest, an hour away from Sparrow Beach, and she could only dream of seeing the inside of a plane, let alone a private jet.

"Smile!" Paul pulled her close to his side as he led her to their table, and Natalie flinched when his warm breath fanned her bare neck.

She really should have asked why it mattered so much to please him. But blinded by the idea of spending an evening at The Empress and ticking off at least one item from her bucket list, she'd gone along with Emily's suggestion and kept her hair pinned up.

She couldn't wait to get home, take out all the pins and throw them in the nearest bin. The makeup would be the second thing to go.

"It's so hard. All these people. So many names to remember." She smiled brightly at Paul, convinced she looked like one of the Stepford wives.

"I get it." Paul gave her an understanding nod, and at that moment, he reminded her of a kindly father figure, and she would have trusted him with her life. But when his gaze caressed her neck and rested a little too long on her bare shoulders, Natalie wished she could curl up into a small ball and disappear.

The dress was another goddamn thing she was starting to hate.

Back at her place, she'd felt like a princess when she'd put it on. But out here in this room full of strangers and under Paul's hungry gaze, she felt like a piece of meat on display.

"Champagne?" Paul asked when they'd settled down.

Before she could even make up her mind, he'd already grabbed two glasses from a waiter doing his rounds. She took the drink, her skin crawling at his touch when his fingers deliberately brushed hers.

The six other faces at their table were completely absorbed with their money, status, and power. They immediately lost interest in Natalie as soon as they learned she was not in the medical field, and the only thing she'd ever dissected was a frog in her Grade 8 Biology class.

Natalie spent a large part of the awards ceremony secretly texting Amber, her hands safely hidden on her lap by the voluminous black tablecloth. She made sure to clap the loudest though when Paul accepted the evening's grand prize. She even recorded his speech and replayed it for him when he returned to their table, beaming with pride she didn't feel.

When the three-course dinner rolled around, Natalie found herself in a mini-crisis. She was so caught up with playing dress-up earlier she forgot to research the menu. There were too many fancy dishes with strange names and no photos to show her what she could be eating.

Thank heavens Paul didn't like his dates to think for themselves, let alone order their own food. He took care of everything for her, from the starter to the dessert and the drinks in between, and Natalie hated him a little more.

But her big, bright smile never faltered. No matter how painfully embarrassing and tiring it all became, she kept smiling because, on Paul's arm, she had to look deliriously happy, like she was having the time of her life.

The dreaded dance came much later, and Natalie tried every excuse in the book to avoid being up close and personal with Paul. 'No' wasn't a word in his dictionary, though.

He forcefully led her to the dance floor, squirming when he gripped her waist tightly, pulled her close and rubbed himself on her thigh. She struggled and wiggled for some room, but her discomfort seemed to excite him even more.

"Smile and look pretty," he said, grinning wickedly at her, his lecherous gaze lingering on her bare shoulders and the tiny hint of her cleavage peeking over the dress.