How Was Your Date?

Bianca's POV

"Good morning, Miss Davies," Harriet chirped, flashing me her usual lucid smile that revealed her dimples.

"Good morning, Harriet," I responded, giving her a small smile.

"I trust you had a wonderful night?" She asked.

"Yes, I did. What about you?" I asked back. Not like I cared or anything. I just felt the need to be warm and polite to her. She was after all, my personal assistant, my right-hand woman. Harriet was the second person I trusted the most in the whole wide world, after me, of course.

"I did," she replied beaming and adjusting her floral halter neck ruffle dress. She looked really pretty today like she took her time getting herself all dolled up.

Harriet was an attractive lady, a year older than I was. Though not nearly as attractive as I was. She was slender, tall, with a symmetrical face, black kinky hair and beautiful dark skin that glistened. She would make a fine model, I had told her a thousand times but she always shrugged it off. She could be the next Naomi Campbell if she gave modelling a shot but she said she wasn't built for that kind of stuff.

"How did your date go last night?" I remembered she'd told me she was going on a date with her boyfriend.

"Oh, it went well, thank you." Harriet paused and then gave me a once-over. "You look stunning today!" She complimented me, almost squealing like a stuck pig.

"Don't I always?" I rolled my eyes and smiled a little, my voice brimming over with sheer cockiness.

"Of course, you do!" Harriet agreed.

I was looking exceptionally beautiful today as I was donned in a sparkly black off shoulder strapless gown made exclusively by a topnotch French designer. The silky gown had a thigh-high slit and was patterned with tiny pieces of stones that gave it a high lustre. And my makeup, on fleek as always.

It was the premiere of a movie I'd been specially invited to by the producer and director himself, Mr Hawkins. No doubt, the movie was going to be a hit. Other than the fact that Hawkins had poured millions into the production and that he had cast a good number of A-list actors, Mr Hawkins barely had any box office flop. At least none that I knew of.

And if all went well, I'd be cast in the sequel which would be released two years from now. I was looking forward to it. So far, I'd starred in eleven movies and played the lead roles in four and each one of these movies was a global success.

I'd only dived into the acting world a few years ago but I was making quite an impact with my brilliant performances. Why else would a standoffish person like Mr Hawkins invite me to his movie premiere and speak about casting me for his sequel?

"You're not looking bad yourself," I said to Harriet and she smiled again.

Steve walked in and stared at me conspicuously with a grim expression visible on his face. We hadn't talked since that night and frankly, I didn't give a damn. He was just my bodyguard and I wasn't paying him to talk to me. I wasn't paying any one of them to try and be too comfortable with me. The only time I expected them to break the boundaries of professionalism was when I wanted to have a good screw and I always got it.

"Good morning, ma'am," Steve spoke, his words barely coming out as though he was forced to say them.

"Is the car ready?" I asked him, not finding it relevant to respond to his greeting. "Where's Patrick?" My eyes raked all over the place in search of my chauffeur.

"He's outside, ma'am," Steve replied.

"Let's go guys," I beckoned my make-up artist and stylist who were nestled in my couches the whole time. "I can't afford to be late today," I said, even though I very much knew I was dead late but I wasn't bothered a bit about it.

I never went to a party early unless I was the celebrant!.

I walked outside to where my limo was parked and other bodyguards stood waiting for me.

"Good morning, ma'am," Sky greeted first and then Kevin. I greeted back without sparing them a single glance. Sky opened the door for me and I settled in the seat with slight difficulty.

Sky was the oldest of my bodyguards. He was beefy, good-looking with masses of jet black hair and was usually calm and collected. He was a man of few words, seemed like one who had trouble speaking but in bed, he was a loud, vicious animal. Just how I liked my boy toys to be. He understood what was required of him and hence, I never had any issue with him.

Kevin too was a wild thing in the sheets. As a matter of fact, the hot Afro-American was an animated cuntfucker which was no surprise, given that he had a vibrant personality and was garrulous – a trait so 'unbodyguardly'. But on the other hand, he knew quite well the ethics of his work, what being Bianca Davies' bodyguard entailed and how to behave.

I couldn't say the same for Steve. He was starting to irk the shit out of me with his stupidity and I was thinking about not letting him get in between my legs anymore to avoid any future complications. But what was the point of keeping him as a bodyguard if he could not please me? He was of no use to me then.

I arrived at the venue and the place was thronged with fans and celebrities. As I sashayed into the red carpet with my three bodyguards closely behind, the paparazzi positioned at different angles and attacked me with camera flashes. I struck different poses for the camera. I was going to bless them all with the heavenly looks I was serving.

As I carried on posing, my eyes landed on the man who changed my life. The man who took my cherry years ago and gave me a ray of hope. The man who showed me the light when I was at my darkest.

Mr Drew McCartney...