The billionaire's sweet editor
Chapter 103: Lucas: Whirlwind

Chapter 103: Lucas: Whirlwind

THE PAST few days have been a whirlwind of emotions, pressure, and activity.

There were the yoga and gym activities with Iris for three days. I can’t believe I underestimated my mother’s relaxation techniques like that. Yoga is relaxing no doubt, every time I was done with it, I felt rejuvenated and conscious—as if my sense of self was back.

I’m pretty sure it worked for Iris, too. She seemed to be getting better every day after therapy with Williams, whom I asked to increase his mind magic for a bit more dollars, and the massages were doing her even better. Her skin, which I thought was already perfect, has now reached what I assume is peek perfection. It’s glassy, spotless, and shiny—aesthetic skin, as I like to call it.

I’ve been receiving skin treatment from her every day after work because I keep commenting on hers, and Iris says she knows how massage therapists do it. It’s my excuse to chill at night with her while we converse and work on my face like a newlywed couple in their honeymoon phase.

Being in love feels like floating on clouds for sure. It’s a floaty feeling that leaves you wanting to go higher, but one wrong move and the cloud might evaporate under you and you’ll have to fall back to where you started.

I love the process though.

Aside from the relaxing nights and the moments when I feel like I’m now a married man, the work in my office has become something hellish, an inhumane course that makes me sigh every time I open my office door and see the piles of paperwork sitting on my desk.

As if punishment for my final month in that office, the magazine has been getting quite busy this month. We have a lot of collaborations that went underway, not to mention the errors that my team kept making every fucking day and how they kept asking me to correct their errors.

Even Dion seemed dumb this past week, and just when I was beginning to think the team was going to be left in good hands. I managed to assist them at the expense of my time and energy, which I had to extend further by visiting the photo booth for some pictures.

Yes, I’ve now been enrolled as an Adders official model, with a contract and paycheck and all that. Sick right? I thought so too until I found out how models do it. As I soon had to experience, those posh out-of-this-world picture-perfect poses the models in magazines make are not a one-time thing.

There’s a whole choreography behind it. It includes jumping, sometimes dancing, sometimes it needs the model to be moving, walking, or doing something with their body that makes the design of the fashion piece they’re wearing accentuate, and sometimes it requires standing in the most ridiculous positions behind a prop just so you posture on camera is more effective.

The day the shoot was completed I came home and flopped onto the bed without taking off my clothes, or better yet taking a bath. If it wasn’t for Iris and her beautiful massages, I can’t bring myself to think of what would have happened to me that night. Maybe I’d have died from sore muscles because of all the straining I had to suffer jumping high to make the parachute pants look aesthetically pleasing to Mary and her Head.

Fuck those two. They enjoyed torturing me without having to face penalties since I had signed a contract. I still have a sore back from a pose they made me do on a stool once...don’t even get me started on it. I’m just grateful Mary hasn’t run her mouth about it to Iris yet.

When all is said and done, the worst kind of pressure and work came from my social media, and it’s all thanks to a friend turned fuck-biddy ex—Bella. I want to blame my dad for making me work with her, but that’d only be me trying to avoid responsibility by blaming it on the man who didn’t know what his son and business partner were doing behind his back.

Bella probably took advantage of that and asked him to make her my assistant on something I’m already well familiar with. She knew rejecting her offer would sound suspicious, and that I would agree to do it no matter what.

Little did we know her cunning mind was cooking up a disaster. She had it all planned out. First, she made a bet with Iris to kill my girlfriend’s confidence and show her she knows me better and has an advantage over her.

Then she made sure she’d be the one to spend more time with me by asking my Dad you know what whilst using those lone moments with me to make our fake relationship that she was conjuring in that head of hers public on social media. Her fan base is crazy about her getting a boyfriend.

That was her plan from the start, but I guess she didn’t consider our actions in retaliation to her chessboard moves. So when I somewhat made a public announcement at the gym that she and I weren’t dating and boasted about my relationship with Iris, the drama-loving freaks and her haters brought up articles about her and me.

The game soon turned tides and I had the upper hand over it. One word from me could break and ruin whatever image she had conjured of us, and with a few more twerks on my explanations, maybe her career?

I guess she realized that could be the case because she came to me this morning after we were done discussing how to market her clothing on our page with hot espresso and a pitiful expression that apologized on her behalf before she even opened her mouth.

"Yes?" I quipped, the sound of keypads filling the room from my monstrous typing speed. All my work was done but not my inauguration speech. I wanted to have it laid out before the month ended just in case my Dad pulled a surprise attack on me.

Laying the coffee next to my laptop, Bella stood before me, not even sitting down before I told her to—a first since we got to know each other.

"Can we talk?" She fidgeted with her paper cup whilst raising her eyes expectantly at me. I immediately stopped typing and looked up at her, getting myself ready to warn her if need be.

"Sit."

★★★★★