The GPS voice chid through the car as I pulled out of the hotel driveway. Adrien sat comfortably in the back like he was so CEO royalty─which he technically is but still.
I gripped the wheel a little tighter than necessary.
"This car is ridiculously smooth," I muttered, mostly to myself.
No response from the back.
I glanced at the mirror. He was looking at his phone, probably checking emails or plotting how to make my life a living hell. His tie was loosened just a little and his expression unreadable.
"Do you ever sit in the front seat?" I asked before I could stop myself.
"Do I look like a cab driver?" he replied without missing a beat.
I scoffed and turned back to the road. "Do I?"
He didn’t answer that. Typical.
The sun was starting to rise higher, casting a golden light over the buildings as we weaved through the unfamiliar streets. My hair stuck slightly to the side of my face with the heat, but I didn’t care. The silence between us was killing but I wasn’t about to start small talk with him.
Suddenly, he said, "You missed the turn."
"What?" I glanced at the map. Shit. He was right.
"I said follow the directions. Not your instincts."
"I’m sorry, I didn’t realize Google Maps hired you as its ambassador," I shot back, reversing a bit to correct my mistake.
"Just don’t get us killed."
My grip on the wheel tightened again. I’d kill him before this trip was over. No, I wouldn’t. I needed this job. I will just just imagine it.
By the ti we got close to the site, the road beca bumpier and dustier. I could already see n in helts and orange vests up ahead.
"Park over there," he said, his voice back to being clipped and professional. "And try not to embarrass yourself."
I gave him a sickly sweet smile. "Of course, sir. I Wouldn’t want to ruin your precious image."
He didn’t respond─but I saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
The site was loud, hot, and chaotic─n shouting instructions, machines grinding and the sll of fresh cent thick in the air. Adrien stepped out adjusting the sleeves of his crisp white shirt while nodding at the project manager.
I followed behind him, the sun roasting my back. I wish I have a parasol. The mont we entered the site he slipped into full boss mode─sharp, focused, commanding. I stayed silent while writing whatever I could into my notepad while trying not to trip over random construction junk.
Hours passed. Literally. By the ti he gave an approving nod and said, "This will do," the sky had already turned a soft orange and the sun was beginning to dip behind the trees.
Finally.
We got back into the car and I could almost taste the cold shower and bed waiting at the hotel.
But just as I turned toward the familiar road, he spoke.
"Take the next right."
I blinked. "That’s not the way back."
"Obviously." His tone was neutral like this was a perfectly normal detour. "Turn."
I sighed but obeyed, taking the turn. A few minutes laterwe pulled up in front of a boutique.
Not just any boutique─a fancy, shining, glassy one that looked like you needed a credit score of 900 just to breathe inside it.
I looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Why are we here?"
"Get down," was all he said.
The cold air hit the second I stepped inside. It slled like roses, money and things I couldn’t afford even in my dreams. Everything sparkled!!! Even the mannequins looked like they were judging for daring to enter in dusty flats and sun-stained clothes.
Adrien walked ahead like he owned the place─again. His presence alone seed to make the attendants stand straighter.
Then he turned to one of them, a tall woman with a sleek bob and a smile that scread commission.
"Bring the best dinner dress you have," he said without even looking at .
My brows shot up.Dinner dress?
My eyes shifted between him and the attendant, confusion tightening my face.
Wait. Who was he buying a dress for?Was it a date? Is he using it as a gift for a client or what?
Or... no. Was he secretly gay? Was this for himself?
I choked on a laugh and quickly looked away. No judgnt if he was but nothing about this man scread "sequin-loving."
"Uh... who’s the dress for?" I asked cautiously.
His eyes t mine, expression unreadable. "You."
I blinked. Twice. "?"
"You heard ."
"You’re buying a dress?" uhm that’s weird.
He didn’t answer. Instead he turned away and started scrolling through his phone like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb.
What the hell was happening?
The attendant quickly returned with a set of three dresses placed over her arm, all of them so elegant they practically scread "money." She offered a polite smile as she presented them to .
"Here you go, sir. The finest selections for your... guest."
Adrien barely glanced up, his eyes still fixed on his phone but I could feel the tension building in the air like he was waiting for sothing, waiting for the perfect dress.
I looked at the dresses and nearly swallowed my tongue. The first one was a deep erald green, sparkling with enough sequins to blind soone in direct sunlight. The second was a fiery red, so tight it looked like sothing you’d see on a reality show, and the third... well, the third was a silver number, glistening and elegant but it had so many ruffles it looked like sothing from a princess movie.
"These are... all very dramatic," I said, blinking at the first dress.
Adrien barely nodded still on his phone. It should be glued on his face at this point.
"Try them on," he said, barely a command but I could feel the weight of it. "Now."
I let out a soft sigh. Fine. If it made him shut up for five minutes I was willing to give it a shot.
I walked into the fitting room, the floor-to-ceiling mirror already making feel like I was in an interrogation room. The first dress was the green one so I slipped it on cringing at the tightness of it. The sequins dug into my skin as I twisted and turned in the mirror. I looked like I belonged at so gala and not in the back of a boutique with a boss who seed to think I was so sort of personal dress-up doll.
When I stepped out to show him, Adrien didn’t even look up.
I cleared my throat. "Well?"
He barely glanced at before swiping at his phone again, looking entirely unbothered.
"No."
I didn’t need to be told twice. I went back in, changed and tried on the red one next. It was even more... attention-grabbing, and I felt like I was going to burst out of the seams any second. The deep neckline made feel exposed and the tight fit was uncomfortable.
I stepped out, trying my best to look nonchalant. This ti Adrien didn’t even look up.
"No," he said flatly.
I couldn’t hide the frustration in my voice. "What is it you’re looking for?"
But again, he didn’t answer. Just like before his eyes didn’t leave his phone, and I could feel his indifference creeping under my skin.
The silver one was next. At this point I was tired. The dress was too ruffled, too delicate. I looked like I belonged in an old-ti movie.
When I stepped out this ti, I didn’t bother to ask. I already knew.
He didn’t even glance at .
"No. Too much."
That made it what─dress number seven? Or eight? I was losing count.
Adrien didn’t even lift his gaze from his phone this ti he just turned slightly to the attendant and said coolly, "Bring more. She’ll try everything until we get it right."
The attendant hesitated─probably because I looked like I was about to drop dead on the boutique floor─but gave a quick nod and walked away like a soldier obeying orders.
I dragged myself back into the fitting room.
Then the real torture began.
Dress after dress after dress. I must have slipped into over fifty gowns. Every single one got dismissed with either a shake of the head, a muttered complaint or a full-on criticism from Adrien.
"The neckline is too low."
"This one’s too short."
"That color makes you look like a wrapped candy."
"Ugh, it’s too flashy."
"Looks cheap."
"Too plain."
"Too tight."
"Too slit."
"Too long. You’re not attending a funeral in the 1800s."
At so point I started changing in silence, numb to the fabric, the heels, the zippers I couldn’t quite reach. I stopped asking if he liked anything I stopped reacting. I just changed and walked out, waited for the inevitable rejection and then turned back around.
But when I ca out in the black one─simple, elegant, with a deep square neckline that wasn’t too revealing and a slit that stopped just shy of daring─he looked up. Finally.
His gaze dragged from my head to my toes and back again, and then... silence.
I shifted slightly. "Well?"
His phone clicked shut and for once he gave his full attention. His eyes lingered a little longer on my waist. My legs. My face.
He didn’t say anything for a mont. Then, finally—
"That one."
That was it. Two words. After nearly three hours of playing his personal mannequin.
I blinked. "This one?"
Adrien stood up, straightened his cuffs like he was preparing for war. "We’ll take it."
And just like that, he turned and walked toward the cashier. I stood there, staring after him, trying not to curse out loud. It was always his way and the rest of us? Just had to catch up
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