Page 60 of Money Reigns

Different.

Like someone took time measuring a body I’ve only ever tried to shrink.

Isabella steps back and beams. “Okay, now let’s get to work on that gorgeous face.”

She guides me into the kitchen and starts setting up products with practiced ease. Her voice is gentle now, like she knows I’m spinning.

“Not used to men like this, huh?”

I shake my head, barely able to meet her eyes.

“He’s just my boss,” I whisper.

But my body doesn’t feel like it believes me.

She lifts a brow, a teasing smile tugging at her mouth.

“Sure he is.”

She gets to work, sweeping foundation and blush with expert hands. We don’t talk much, which is fine. My brain’s a mess of static and pulse andwhat the hell is going on.

It’s not until she reaches for the eyeshadow palette that I realize something’s off.

“Wait. Is that green?” I ask as she lifts a brush.

“Mhm.” She dabs it gently into a muted emerald shimmer. “He chose this. Said to match the tone to the dress. And your eyes.”

My breath catches.

He chose the makeup?

I don’t even know what to say to that. I barely remember how to breathe, let alone form a full sentence.

Isabella doesn’t comment on my stunned expression, just keeps working, humming softly as if this is all completely normal.

Once my face is done, she steps back, wiping her hands. “Time for hair.”

I nod, still silent, letting her turn me in the chair. She blow-dries with careful hands, working product through the strands, until my hair is soft and glossy and lighter than air.

I start to relax. Until she pulls out a set of pins.

“What are you doing?” I ask as she begins twisting a section at the base of my neck.

“Chignon,” she says, focused. “Classic. Elegant. He said up.”

My brows draw in. “Warren wants my hair up?”

Isabella’s lips twitch with amusement. “To show off the jewelry.”

My entire body goes still.

Of course. The hair. The face. The dress. All pieces to complete the look.

Hislook.

“I—what jewelry?”

She doesn’t answer right away, just keeps twisting and pinning.