Charlize Benett - Fifty Shades of Lies

“You are falling apart aren’t you—pretty girl? If only I were a vampire…” He sighed, arching his perfectly shaped brow and winked.

“No. Ah shit, I am in the wrong place.” I calmly stood to my feet. “I thought this was an interview with a vampire.” I retorted keeping a straight face, almost stoic and very serious.

“Good one Miss Ridame.” His expression resembled a cat that ate the canary… then I burst into laughter, he did too. The ice was broken between us. I was gaining some control over the situation. Just how I liked things. I sat back down, smoothing the front of my dress down.

“You’re a funny young woman… witty too.” His gray eyes beamed.

I blushed, “Thank you.” I squared my shoulders, feeling confidently proud of myself for impressing him.

“Okay let’s continue then. What kind of man are you looking for…?” His eyes dimmed to a shade below gray, almost black. He seemed so serious. What happened? I was expecting him to lighten up. Instead, he went straight back to the task at hand, and turned all business like.

“Well, he has to be rich, and very handsome….” I smiled, genuinely.

His eyes turned darker. I felt flustered. This is the answer Bleu-Rae gave me. Crap—double crap. It was clear to me I was not impressing him at all.

“Is that your final answer?” he questioned with a gleam in his eyes. I felt like I was on an episode of: Who Wants To be A Millionaire?

“Err… ah, no?” I said, as question, hoping for some direction from him.

“Okay, listen… if you say you are looking for a rich spouse, people won’t like you. Even if it is the true… the thing is you have to lie…” His eyes turned darker.

Lie, he wants me to lie? These are Bleu-Rae answers. Not mine.

“Okay… I will lie… if this gets me on the show,” I squealed, nervously. I couldn’t believe I agreed to lie. He was right, people will do what it takes to get what they want, even me.

“Is this the only reason you are here, to find a rich husband?” He beamed.

“Yes,” I flushed, biting my lower lip. His open fist hit the arm of the chair.

“Didn’t I just tell you to lie? You have to appear like you really just want love, and a good spouse. You can’t be in it just for the money—no you can, but you can’t be blatant about it.”—I shook my head, feeling very confused—“Don’t worry I will find you a very rich man, but for ratings sake you have to pretend to be here for the right reasons.” He glared at me, raising one brow. “Now let’s start over. You need much practice at lying.”

I felt heat in my face, my nerves were scattered and my heart raced from seventy beats to fifty-thousand beats per minute. Which would have totally killed me, but it felt that way just the same. This man is telling me to lie… but I am lying all ready. I am not even Bleu-Rae. I don’t even want to be married. Bleu-Rae does. I just wanted to go to the beach today.

“Oh Mr. Maximillion, I really want to be on your show. I am tired of being single, and alone in this harsh cold world. I want to spend my life with the man of my dreams. My heart aches to be the perfect wife, to a wonderful man. It’s my biggest dream to follow in my great-grandmother’s shoes”— Oh my god my great-grandmother abandoned her seven children. I didn’t even know her. I was telling a dozier of a lie —“I want be the poster woman of a nineteen forties homemaker, just as dear grandmother was.” I lied allowing a few tears to fall from my eyes. If this wasn’t lying then I am an angel.

Mr. Maximillion jumped up from his chair and slapped his hands together. This caused me to jump. “Yes,” he bolted. “That’s more like it,” he exclaimed.

“It’s true.” I pulled a tissue from my purse, wiping away my fake tears.

“Hummm, next time try to be a little more convincing Miss Bleu-Rae.” He chuckled. His muscular perfect figure hovered above me. “I’ve decided already I want you as a contestant for the show—you are perfect, but you really need to spend more practicing on being more convincing. This is imperative if we are going to work together.” God, he was so arrogant.

“Oh my god, thank you… Bleu-Rae will be so excited… I mean I am so happy.” I referred to myself in third person, crap. I blushed, clamping down on my bottom lip. Mr. Maximillion observed me with a suspicious look. His eyes sparkled like gemstone, glistening every shade of gray from Lababorite, Chalcedony to Onyx, which is one shade below black.

Damn, this lying thing is so confusing. To him I appeared to be talking in third person. This guy must think I am total loser. I hated that episode airing on Seinfeld when Elaine met this guy named Jimmy at the gym. It was the episode where the guy referred to himself in the third person. Jimmy likes Elaine. Jimmy is leaving now. Ewe, now I was doing it. Maybe Mr. Maximillion knows I am not really Bleu-Rae and he is calling my buff, by telling me to lie… and he knows I am already lying. Perhaps, he wants me to confess, or he is trying to make an ass out of me? If so, it was working.

“So… there’s only one more thing… are you willing to show more skin? And, maybe get a little work done… like lip injections?” He said hesitantly.

“Really? Lip injections—oh yes. I been wanting to get them, and as far as showing more skin, sure, that’s not a problem.” I exclaimed, with a shrill of excitement. I have had my fair share of slut-a-thons so showing a little skin would be a breeze.

“Great then. Let’s meet in three days to sign the contract and a training course. First thing tomorrow go see my doctor friend in Beverly Hills. She will fix up your lips. She will know just want to do.” He smiled… then stood up—he was so tall—and went to his desk and tore off a sheet of paper and jotted down for me her name and number. “Here’s her name and address. My girls will set up the appointment for you. Just show up in the morning.”

“Thanks so much. I am thrilled.” I could hardly curb my enthusiasm. Bleu-Rae will be so proud of me. Bleu-Rae. Oh crap. She is the one that is going to get the lip injections, not me. This made me feel ill… I really wanted them.

I held out my hand to shake his. Instead he reached out and hugged me. My legs instantly felt like Jell-O—wobbling in my four-inch heels. His embrace was overwhelming. He smelled like hot melting chocolate and spice. I nearly fainted.

“Are you okay Miss Bleu-Rae?” He gripped onto my shoulders, helping me to maintain my failing equilibrium. He must have thought I was the most clumsily woman in the world, or a rag-doll without bones, unable to stand upright.

“Oh yes… I think I am a bit hungry.” I flushed, crimson.

“Yes, that reminds me… you must eat… one apple a day.”

“One apple a day,” I regarded.

“This will help you gain some weight… you’re such a scrawny thing, you are nothing but bones.” His eyes probed me up and down. Well, that comment sure blew my rag-doll theory. Nothing, but Bones, huh?

“Okay I will do that.” I promised him, as I gathered my Chanel from the red leather couch.

He led me to the door, opened it and snapped his fingers at a new blond girl that was sitting behind the desk. “Get Miss Bleu-Rae an apple before she leaves here… one of the red delicious ones.”

“Oh that’s okay” I politely refused. “I am swinging by the market—I’ll pick some up there.”

“I insist. And, you promised remember?” He stammered, his lips went to a tight line, seemly disappointed in me. Then he smiled brightly “An apple a day keeps the devil away.”

“You mean the doctor,” I corrected him, flashing a sideways smile.

“Same thing,” he retorted, the corners of his mouth curled downward slightly.