Chapter 3

Ginger

If someone asked me to choose a person to buy clothes and renew my wardrobe, I would definitely choose Stella without hesitation. She knows me best and knows most about my tastes, knows how I like my necklines, which kind of necklines I prefer more, or whether I would choose a long-sleeved or short-sleeved dress. She even knows which color suits me best and whether I would be willing to wear something with bright colors like neon yellow or green.

The answer to that is a resounding no. Clothes have always been our favorite topic between us. In the first few months when we met, I was in a phase where I liked to buy so much clothes that I spent weeks choosing what I wanted. During that time, I sent Stella photos of things I liked and things that I thought would look good on me. I explained why, told her which shades always looked good on my body, and also gave her a summary of why I liked one style of dress over another.

She did the same with me. We were far away, but we learned to know each other's tastes through photos and long, numerous explanations of the other. Stella and Maria have brought a beautiful dress, a long black mermaid cut with a beautiful silver belt. As I look at it, I can't believe it's mine and I hug them both.

“You're the best,” I whisper.

“We knew you'd be tired from work, so we decided to help you and went to buy the dress. Do you like it? Is it what you wanted, or were you expecting something else?”

“It's... perfect.”

“I'll come tomorrow to fix you up, Stella will prepare everything else in the meantime.”

“Don't you plan on going to a hair salon or letting Maria fix you up?” I ask, frowning. Usually, it's Maria who fixes us up because it's part of her job. She's a professional stylist and makeup artist. She studied at the same time as me, we graduated from the same university, and went to several courses together.

We spent all day talking about the things we would do tomorrow, coordinating everything, and hoping that everything would go according to plan. According to Stella, she wouldn't go to the hair salon tomorrow because she would take care of preparing the food, cleaning the house, and also helping me with whatever I need. "If Maria has time, she'll be the one to fix me up a bit," she said, and both Maria and I nodded, but deep down, I knew we were going to help her do everything she needed.

We were a team of three, and although only two of us lived together, Maria knows she can count on us for whatever she needs.

“And well? Updates?”

“Mr. Moore has a brother named Gabriel Moore. They usually differentiate themselves because Gabriel always introduces himself by his name, and the boss is always called 'Mr. Moore.' I have never had the opportunity to talk to coworkers about what the boss is like, but some comments on websites say that he is a man who should not be approached.”

“Websites always say nonsense. Ten percent of what they say is true, and the rest are pure inventions to gain fame and money at the expense of influential people. Never be swayed by what they say.”

“It's not something I believe,” I excuse myself.

“It's just that it's the only thing I have of him for now.”

“Have you looked for photos of him?” Stella asks from the other end of the room. She's sitting on the couch and has changed, now wearing a hippopotamus pajama and has her hair tied in a ponytail.

“I've seen one, but his face wasn't visible.”

“Instagram,” Maria points out. “It's the best option if you want to see photos of someone important. You'll find parts of their life there, and maybe a few places they've traveled to. If you want to go tomorrow, you should know what your boss looks like. Haven't you seen him when you interviewed for the job?”

I shake my head.

“I remember that day. I was in a hurry and took the elevator up. I had the interview, and I asked the secretary, but she said that the Moores had gone on a trip and couldn't see me today.”

“And how did you get the job?”

“Because I left my resume with the secretary, and she called Gabriel, who apologized repeatedly for forgetting our meeting and said that his secretary was qualified to interview me. I didn't expect to get the job, especially not that way.”

“Damn, you were lucky.”

“Even I was surprised when I found out how I got the job,” the curly-haired girl mentions.

“I'll look up his profile.”

It doesn't take her half an hour to find it. She raises her eyebrows in amazement and bites her lower lip. Maria always does that when she finds a man extremely attractive. Her expressions make me want to see him and know what's special about him or what his facial features are like.

The three of us usually have different tastes in guys, I guess that's why we've never fought over a man.

“Damn, you're making us anxious,” Stella blurts out, and Maria turns the phone around. “Mother of God.”

He's handsome, not just handsome, his face is masculine.

He's the sexiest man I've ever seen in my life.

His thick lips.

His chiseled jaw.

His strong arms and defined torso.

Black hair and blue eyes.

And he's white-skinned, the perfect male stereotype I have in my mind.

I don't know what crossed my mind or what I'll think of him when I see him in person, but he's not an unattractive man. Usually, businessmen tend to have that tempting appearance that can make any woman fall for them. I don't understand why most of them tend to look so good. I wonder what his personality will be like.