Perfectly Imperfect

I squeeze his hand, offering him, without words, a sign that I’m okay. Resting my head on the headrest, I think back to last night after Kirby and Eddie left. We talked a lot about Eddie’s concerns, and I hadn’t realized he was still nervous about it.

Kane’s public image and the fact, like it or not because we haven’t stepped out and announced our relationship, he’s still linked to Mia. I understand where Eddie was coming from in asking, but I also see where Kane’s justified in his hesitancy to go public. He’s been burned in the past when he thought his relationship was ready to weather the media storm, and it wasn’t. Given how afraid I was of my own shadow when we first met, I can see his protective nature wanting to shield me from the unknowns that come with his celebrity status and the media.

Most importantly, he explained that because of our schedule in Georgia, there just wasn’t the opportunity for a big coming out of sorts, so even when I was ready, the opportunity just didn’t present itself. Not to mention, because of the small town that we were filming in, Kane enjoyed the anonymity that he normally would never have if we were in California or heck, even here in New York. I keep waiting to turn around and have a million cameras in our faces.

“I know it’s a possibility, Kane, and I’m not concerned. You shouldn’t be either. Unless you don’t want to have our relationship out there yet,” I whisper remembering his promise to try to avoid the media better. “You can’t just expect yourself to be okay with letting them invade your personal life overnight. Or openly let them into our relationship when you’re used to not letting them know anything. You’ve had years of dealing with them picking apart everything you do, so I understand you like to keep your life as tight-lipped as possible.”

He shakes his head. “It isn’t that, baby. I just know how they can be, and I don’t want you to have to deal with the negativity that will follow. I wish I could say it wouldn’t, but I know better. The media loves to create drama where there shouldn’t be any.”

How can I make him understand I’m really okay with it? Sure, I don’t think it will be easy, but I also know I have no fear of the things they could possibly say about me. Not anymore.

“If this was when we first met, I would have run for the hills,” I say and rush to continue when he gets pale. “But it’s been almost two months since then, and I can honestly say I have no doubt that I’m ready. I’m not worried about what they’re going to say about me. Or about us. You made me realize I don’t need to be afraid, so can you please trust me this time when I tell you it’s going to be okay?”

He nods but doesn’t look convinced. Sure, he has a lot more experience with the media than I do—which is none—but how bad could it possibly be?

“We’ll deal with it when it happens, okay?”

His hand squeezes mine, and he nods, looking away and through the window when we slow.

“You ready for this?” he asks, and I follow his eyes to the building that houses the Logan Agency offices.

I study the entrance and wait for my nerves or fear to hit me, but they don’t. The only thing I feel is a lightness I never knew was possible. Fearless. I feel fearless. And I know, given the fact that Kane had no issues telling—and showing—me this morning, that I even look as powerful as I feel right now.

His hand releases mine, and I hear him open his door. I grab my compact from my purse and check my appearance before he gets to my side of the SUV. My blemish-free complexion no longer looks ghastly. Instead, it has a glow about it—still pale, but the rosiness in my cheeks gives me some color. My makeup is minimal, just some mascara and dusty pink lip gloss, understated and not overdone. I no longer hide behind a makeup-free face; instead, I accent the things I’ve started to love.

My eyes sweep down and over my features, and I smile when I don’t feel the need to point out everything wrong because I see the positive in myself. The most prominent change I see is in my eyes. You can’t miss the happiness that sparkles in them.

The door opens, and I tuck away my compact and take Kane’s offered hand, my eyes appraising his body before I fold out of the backseat. He looks like he stepped off the pages of GQ’s Winter Casual edition. Dark denim jeans, blue long sleeve Henley top tucked in at his trim hips, and brown boots.

He looks delicious.

I chose my outfit with much more care than his obvious need for comfort. I feel a smirk lift my lips when I think about walking through the doors of Logan dressed as I never have before.

Where my makeup is done to subtly show beauty, my clothes are not. My black pants are tightly stretched against my thighs and butt, tapering out with a barely-there flare down to my four-inch red Louboutin heels. Even though the pants aren’t showing any skin, the way they’re tastefully painted on makes me feel as hot as Kane praised me to be this morning. An impulsive purchase from Torrid that makes me wish I had found the plus-sized clothing store long before now. My top, like the shoes, is blood red. I might have gone a little overboard when I was told it was a power color, but now that I’m wearing it, I feel it. Powerful.

The chiffon tunic-style tank top is low cut, showing off a generous amount of my cleavage. It isn’t tight anywhere else, but the way it flows from my breasts makes me look slimmer. And on top of that is a black blazer that, when buttoned, makes my chest look even larger than their double Ds.

It’s subtle but designed to make every curvy part look amazing. When I looked in the mirror this morning, I felt stunning.

“Are you ready?” he asks when I stand next to him, taking my hand in his and giving Cam a nod.

“Yeah.” I nod, smiling widely up into Kane’s handsome face. “I really am.”

Five minutes later, we’re walking through the lobby of the Logan Agency. Mary looks up, and for a quick moment before her infectious smile hits, she looks confused. My eagerness to get this over with has me cutting our conversation short. As much as I would love to catch up, I know I have the advantage right now because they’re not expecting me. The element of surprise allows me to hold all the power because they have no prep time.

Kane holds my hand as we walk around Mary’s desk and make our way down the hallway. I look around at the images on the wall, taking in the dim lighting, and I don’t feel an ounce of trepidation. None. I wondered if I would get this far and freak out, doing the opposite of what I set out to do today and just fall back on old habits. But being here around the images that used to make me feel even worse about myself drives home for me just how far I’ve come.