Chapter 19 - The Red Skimpy Bikini (1/2)

”What's that?” Claire couldn't believe her eyes.

Miss Cassandra stares at her, then turns to the skimpy bikini in her hand. ”I don't follow.”

”I mean, am I supposed to wear that?”

Miss Cassandra smiles. ”Oh dear. Didn't Captain Eduard tell you? You're supposed to attend a little event at the pool.”

”Another event?”

”Yes.” Miss Cassandra holds the bikini against Claire's body, as if testing it. ”That's how things happen here, if you must ask. One moment you're having a party. The next moment, you're, err, having another party.”

”This is ridiculous,” Claire mutters to herself. ”Is this not going to end?”

”I'm sorry, what?” Miss Cassandra says. ”What's ending?”

”Oh, nothing. Nothing.” Claire receives the bikini as if entranced. It's fiery red, with flimsy straps to attach themselves to the body. Claire imagines herself wearing it, and she gulps at what she sees—she's going to bȧrė so much skin. Isn't this exploitation? Gabriel didn't even mention this earlier during breakfast! Did he just make this thing up now? Claire's entire being is dying to resist this most recent turn of events.

Miss Cassandra seems to have read her thoughts. ”I'm sorry, Miss Monteverde, but Mr. Tan wants me to remind you of your private agreement with him. He made me understand that this is part of your agreement.”

Claire stares at the young fashion stylist slash wardrobe manager dumbly. She still couldn't process the whole thing. She thought she could spend the next few days while she's in the mansion in relative peace and quiet. She thought the party last night was the wildest she was going to experience. And now this.

”Sorry, I think I'd need to speak to Gabriel first,” Claire says.

”What for?” Miss Cassandra says. ”Your fiance's already at the pool waiting for you. It's not like you haven't done this before, have you? It's just a pool party.”

”He didn't tell me there's going to be a pool party.”

”Exactly,” Miss Cassandra says, trying to be the patron saint of patience. ”That's why he wants me to take care of it. So here's your bikini. All you have to do is head over there and slay. What's the big deal?”

The big deal is I've never worn a bikini before, especially not in front of people—is what Claire wants to say. Sure, she has seen her body a million times in front of a mirror, and what she has seen is always pleasing, always a ”sight for sore eyes,” as they say. The woman in the reflection is the image of self-confidence and feistiness—but there's only one catch: that all happens alone in her room. If you don't count the accident at the bathroom last night with Karen's boyfriend Russel, maybe you can count with the fingers of one hand the number of people who have seen her nȧkėd, or at least semi-naked, in her life. Her mom and dad notwithstanding.

And now her fake fiancé is demanding her to do something she holds sacred, in a casual pool party, no less. What should Claire do?

Perhaps more importantly, what would her mom, Carol Monteverde, would do, if faced with a similar situation?