This Crazy Rich Boy

"I'd rather die than be caught wearing that," Claire gasps, as she eyes what Miss Cassandra is holding aloft: a blond wig.

"This is important," Miss Cassandra says, "unless you want this little cover blown sooner than what the boss means it to last."

Claire winces. "Don't we have another option? Something that doesn't scream for attention?"

"Well, if you really want to direct attention away from Claire Monteverde, we'll have to look exactly your opposite. With this wig, and the other parts of my planned ensemble, nobody would suspect Bella Xavier and you are one and the same person!"

"But what if—"

"No what ifs, Claire," Miss Cassandra says. "I'm the image expert here. Besides, this is just part of your acting project, remember? This blond wig is not you, so you don't have to feel anything strongly for or against it. It's just something you have to do."

Claire reluctantly takes the wig and tries it on. She thinks she'd look ridiculous, but when she looks in the mirror, the reflection she sees there seems like a totally different person. "Oh my god, I look such a bombshell here!"

"I know," Miss Cassandra chirps, helping Claire with the wig until it seamlessly fits her head.

"I look stunning," Claire says. She has to smile despite everything. Because indeed she doesn't look too bad—the blond wig falls past her brėȧsts, and parts on the side, like Angelina Jolie if she were blonde.

"I'd fall in love with that face," Miss Cassandra says.

"I doubt it," Claire says. She smiles. "Are you sure I can't wear something not as attention-grabbing as this one?"

"I ȧssure you nobody would even pay attention to you. The offices of TXCI Holdings crawl with hotties, and you'd simply fit there, as is our goal. You shouldn't stand out. You should perfectly blend in."

"Okay."

"And to complete today's outfit, I've chosen the perfect combination for you."

Claire's jaws drop when Miss Cassandra brings out her outfit for the day.

Later, Claire gingerly walks the hallways of the TXCI offices. She feels uneasy. Everyone's staring at her as they see her walk by. As if somebody has painted a target sign on her back. "Not stand out, eh?"she grumbles. "How can I not stand out with this?"

As she walks by a reflective glass wall, she catches her reflection—and indeed she's stunning. Her long blond hair, tied to a bun, is perfectly complemented by her deep V-neck white blouse tucked in high-waisted black capri pants. Her cleavage is screaming for attention. Her stiletto pumps are screaming for attention. How can she not stand out?

"Oh, Bella Xavier!" Mrs. Gomez greets her by the reception, giving her a knowing look. The receptionist is just among a handful of people in Gabriel Tan's inner circle who knows all about this game.

"Uhh, good morning, Mrs. Gomez."

"You're a bit early for today, but that's only perfect. You'll have time to settle in."

Claire smiles nervously and looks around. People are staring at her, wondering who she is. Her unlikely blond hair is reeling them in. Goddamit, Miss Cassandra, she mutters to herself. "I could have just a slight brunette, or burgundy, or something like ċhėstnut brown. But you really had to turn me into a striking blonde. Now the entire floor has been alerted by my presence!"

Mrs. Gomez leads her to her cubicle, which is just outside Gabriel Tan's office on this particular floor.

"Is he in, yet?" Claire asks.

"He rarely comes here," Mrs. Gomez says.

"How do you mean? For whom do I work for, then?"

Mrs. Gomez shrugs. "I don't question Mr. Tan's ways, Clai—I mean, Bella. If he says you're working for him as his executive ȧssistant, then you'd have to sit outside that office whether or not it's empty."

Claire sighs. She doesn't know where to start. All she thought was if you're working as an ȧssistant, then you "assist." If Gabriel isn't around, her role is pointless. "Can I ask you something, Mrs. Gomez?"

"Sure."

"Am I in that part of the job where I'm supposed to walk out and not make it past the one month?"

Mrs. Gomez gives her a quizzical look. "I don't have answers to such questions, Bella. But maybe, as a silver lining, Mr. Tan might actually come today and you'll have someone to 'assist'. But for the mean time, feel free to familiarize yourself with the 'lay of the land', so to speak. Talk to people. Or turn on that big computer, and just start typing."

Claire winces. "What do I type?"

"I don't know. Maybe start writing a journal. A diary. Or you can turn this whole thing into a novel, and call it 'This Crazy Rich Boy' or something. Totally up to you."

Claire watches Mrs. Gomez's figure walk away. Then she slumps into her new office chair. This feels like her first day at school when she was still a kid; she cried when her mom left her to fend for herself. That morning many years ago, she ate her peanut buŧŧer sandwich with tears streaming down her eyes, feeling like an orphan. She'd learned to be strong and confident in the ensuing years, even excelling in college. But here, she doesn't really feel comfortable in her fake persona's skin. She isn't fully sold on the whole Bella Xavier act, blond wig and fierce outfit and all. She doesn't know where the next line in her unspoken acting script would be coming. She isn't sure of what to say, especially to the people here, for fear of saying something that blows her cover. It would have been a different world if she were here as her true self, doing a real job she's been hired to perform; she'd slay then, as she always did. But here, now, in this dual role of fake fiancée and fake executive ȧssistant, she feels like drowning.

"You look like you're drowning," a man's voice, deep and sure, comes from behind.

Claire looks up and sees the guy she had seen a while ago as she arrived in the building. He stood out because he had such an air of confidence that she somehow finds magnetic.

The man extends his hand. "Jake. Jake Magno."

Claire's handshake is reluctant. "Claire—err, I mean, Bella Xavier. I just started today."

"I presume you're Gabriel Tan's new secretary, yes?"

Claire nods. "Word travels fast around here."

"Yeah, especially if somebody as stunning as you are walks in." Jake laughs. "I hope you don't storm out like the last one."

"Why? What happened?"

Jake's eyes widen. "You mean, you don't know?"

What Claire knows is something in the gray area of myth—of previous ȧssistants lasting only a day or two in Gabriel's employ. But she doesn't know the dirty details. "I have no idea."

Jake flashes a winsome smile. "I can regale you with that tale of horror and drama if you'd say yes to one thing."

"And what would that be?"

"Will you have dinner with me?"

Claire says nothing. In her mind, she's grumbling, "Oh my god, Miss Cassandra. 'Not stand out', ehh? 'Not grab attention.' My office chair hasn't even warmed and here's some guy already asking me out."

"Please," Jake says, with those cute eyes. For some reason, Claire finds it hard to resist that deep voice. "There's a new place that recently opened up a block from here. I promise you won't regret it."

Claire mulls the offer. Seriously, what can go wrong? She's here on a fake persona. Bella Xavier doesn't really exist, so what she does as Bella Xavier doesn't have any repercussions to the real life of Claire Monteverde, right? She can be "Bella the Slut," or "Bella the Woman with Loose Morals," the blond bombshell hair notwithstanding, and she can still go home at night and sleep like a baby.

Or would it?

"It's my first day today, Jake," she says finally. "I have a lot of stuff I need to do to catch up. I haven't even met my boss yet. Maybe some other time?"

If Jake feels dejected, he doesn't show it. He smiles. "Sure, Bella. There's plenty of time. Have a nice morning, then." He turns to leave, then he stops and stares at her closely. "Haven't I seen you before?"

"I'm sure you haven't." Claire laughs nervously.

"No," Jake says. "I've seen you. Gabriel Tan's party the other night, at the pool. You were there, right?"

Claire responds to that with a smile, but behind that smile, she really feels like storming out, right here, right now.