The CEO and Her Driver

Chapter 37

Have you ever been in a place that was so loud that it left your head aching? The noise was so palpable that it left your skin crawling, like you had suddenly become a blade of grass, bending under the power of the sound waves. That was my sudden constant as we were ushered inside the museum and posed in dozens of different rooms to showcase our clothes, becoming part of the museum art.

Museums were supposed to be quiet spaces. Allowing deep thoughts to spread through your brain until they were loud, giving voice to parts of your soul that otherwise remained quiet. Art sparked the parts of you that were always forced to remain silent to suddenly speak, to bubble to the surface, and be inspired. But the museum, although beautiful, and one of my favorite places to gather inspiration, was too loud, making it hard to breathe. Hard to think. Hard to do process any coherent thought other than... this hurts my brain!

The sound of laughter, conversation, and camera shutters bounced off the walls, cutting across the tapestries and sinking into my skull without protest. The museum wouldn't allow the noise to sink into the work it protected but instead forced the sounds to continue to echo until it soaked into the people responsible for the noise.

I suddenly wished my entire face was covered in a mask, instead of just my eyes. I had to keep a scowl at bay with every camera flash. "Allie Winters, you have been through a whirlwind week!" an interviewer was saying as I finished posing on a spiral staircase. Pasting a calm smile onto my face, I tried with great difficulty to not look like I was about to hurl from a head-splitting migraine. Then carefully walking down the last two steps on the staircase, I offered the interviewer an easy laugh as I was trapped into a face-to-face conversation in front of a video camera.

"That's an understatement," I replied, trying to come across as friendly. I needed air. The museum was overly stimulating and I hadn't had enough sleep or mentally prepared for the event. I could tell I needed to get outside soon, or they'd be back to calling me the Unhinged Fashionista before the night was over.

I glanced further up the stairs and spotted Iz taking her turn being posed. She was a beacon of joy, soaking in the night like her own personal fairytale. Aiden was out of the cameraman's shot and seemed to have relaxed slightly, eying the beautiful pieces of art around him with a critical eye.

"From dealing with exes and being painted as a villain, to launching the most popular couples clothing line to date and suddenly becoming the heroine of your own story, you've been giving everyone who has been following your story whiplash!" the interviewer said, pulling me back to the conversation as she laughed in that classic fake announcer laugh.

I laughed along, trying not to wince at the way my head throbbed along to the laughter. "Your dress has a..." The woman motioned to my dress in its entirety with dramatic flair, her eyes bright with delight. "...Katniss Everdeen feel, and I am sure everyone at home will agree with me when I say that you have sparked this fashion industry into an inferno with your creativity and sharp fashion sense."

She continued on, not giving me a moment to comment, which was fine. How was someone supposed to respond to compliments? I never knew what to say. Thanks for being nice to me? 

"What our viewers would like to know is... WHAT IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING BETWEEN YOU AND TATE DALTON?!? And will we be seeing that drop-dead goooooorgeous driver escorting you tonight?"

I waved a gloved hand, pretending that the mention of Tate didn't send my heart crashing into my ribcage like a baby calf on rollerskates... is that a thing?

"I did have a plus one, but I brought a different date tonight," I replied with a smile. Turning, I waved at Iz who quickly descended the stairs to join me, nearly vibrating with excitement at the idea of being invited into the interview. Stopping next to me, Iz wrung her gloved fingers together, nervously.