I thought he'd be proud to know I've memorised all the utensils on which to use for what but he's a tough one to please because I stutter the moment he asked me to demonstrate on how to use the spoon for soup in case it's hot.
"You do it half moon crescent," he runs his spoon in the soup in front of him, "Not blowing it as if you're playing trumpet."I giggle again and pick up my soup spoon, copying his act, "Like this?""Make sure your spoon is facing the other way when you dip into the soup."I sigh, "I'd rather not eat soup in front of people my entire life if there is so many rules to follow." I'm sure he'll faint if he sees how hard I blow my instant noodle and slurp it loudly whenever I‘m eating it.No, not eating it. GOBBLING it.After we're done with the food etiquette class, it's the styling class next. It's a miracle no matter how many hours I've spent with him for this particular class, there will always be something new to know about Scarlett, or being a rich woman in general."Remember, big diamond and sparklers come out 6pm or later," he reminds me of what he taught two weeks ago, "Gold, silver, or other metals can be worn during the day. Pearls too, or beaded, acrylic, anything like that.""Got it," I nod and jot down what he said though I still remember about this particular jewellery etiquette.Oh yes, I would memorise whatever he teaches because he's a bit scary when I tend to forget that he has to repeat it again."Show me how do you sit with this dress." He rests his hands across his chest, watching me. Judging me.I oblige and make sure the angle of my legs is correct as I put one on the other, "Hmm?""You didn't point the shoe down." He narrows his eyes at my Louboutin."Oh," I quickly do as he commented."Posture." He's scary alright, setting a tone that straighten me up as I sit properly with the right body posture."Get up, and repeat everything."I quickly stand on my feet and walk gracefully -as how Scarlett would walk- to a corner then come back to the chair I was sitting, repeating each step as elegant as possible.As Scarlett as possible."Think you've got most of it, we can finish early today.""We can?" This is indeed one in a million for it to happen. Because he never released me this early. Especially on a weekend."I mean finish THIS class early. We're gonna continue with car etiquette later."I knew it! There will always be another lesson!***"Why would I be hosting?" I sigh as I pour a bottle of water in a wine glass, practicing on how to be a host."Because Mr Gunn likes inviting people to his place."I sigh louder, "He does?""Now now," he clicks his tongue disapprovingly, "Make sure you pour the wine just below the belly.""How would I know, I'm a Muslim. We don't drink." That would be a lie, because my family does drink. I'm the only one who don't drink, because of the heavy influence of my ex-boyfriend.My family is one of those Muslims who don't really practice Islam as our way of life but we do celebrate Eid. And yes, my sisters in particular, they do drink and have sex with their boyfriend but no, all of us don't eat pork. That's haram."Well you need to know, Sweetheart. Unless you wanna ask Mr Gunn to do this himself.""But he's my employer."He makes a knowing look as if he wants me to say it myself to get that fact cemented in my brain. Fine, got your point."Can't we just host halal party? Like brunch?”"His parents drink during brunch.""Shit. Fine, I'll suggest we host breakfast party.""You can try.""Don't tell me they drink during breakfast too? Seriously?"He shrugs as he puts the glass on a nearby table and replaces a new one into his hand, wanting me to practice again."But why does he like to host parties anyway? Won't he be ashamed or something to show me to the world? To show them how crazy he is to still be hung over the missing wife?""Like I said, money surpasses everything, including treating a cuckoo person as a normal one.”"Rich people are weird," I conclude."Rich people can make weird things normal.""And nobody would complain about it." I'd love to see it myself, of how these already-rich people is treating him as a normal person despite his desperate behaviour of retaining the presence of his missing wife. Do they need to kiss his ass that bad?***"Her favorite cocktail is anything that has vodka in it."We are now onto Scarlett's-favorite-thing class. So far I've gathered that she likes to eat lean, clean meal, and prefers sushi above anything else. It's irony how I hate seaweed but that's the main ingredient in sushi. Urgh, hopefully I can spin that somehow.But this, I don't think I can spin it in any way, "I'm a Muslim. I told you I don't drink.""But Scarlett does," he gives another one of his signature duh look."I can't drink.""Then I suggest you figure it out somehow because she's a big fan of cocktails. Cosmo, sex on the beach, vodka tonic, vodka martini, anything with vodka she'd straight up take it and gulp everything while ordering for another to keep it coming."This is getting ridiculous. First the removal of my headscarf, then the possibility of wearing skirts and dresses that are not modest at all, and now alcoholic beverages?No. That's a big no."You're almost there, Sweetheart. Don't stop at this. I know you're smart. You'll figure it out." He winks as he sips on the vodka martini."I'm not gonna drink just to get fifty thousand a week. I've never drank before." The legal age for drinking in Indonesia is 21, so I really never had even one sip.My then boyfriend was adamant about me not following my parents' drinking habit. For the fact they only have it occasionally. It's not like they drink five bottles a day, it's just a glass of wine during dinner."Then get creative. Tell him you can't drink because you're working tomorrow, or you have a stomach ache. Anything, you can do it Sweetheart. This is the last hurdle."Because I'm meeting him in two days."Is it laundry day?" My sister, Dian teases me in Indonesian as she munches on her snack while watching me button the tweed jacket I've just put on. "No, no, no. Wrong question. Is it pay day?" Oh I know what she meant by that. Being sisters means we share our clothes despite the difference in our size; she's two sizes smaller so she can wear mine but I can never fit into hers. That also means she knows every article of clothing I own, and this two-piece skirt suit is too obvious for being a brand new expensive-looking item I just owned. "Whose is it?" "Not mine." "Yeaaaaa I know it's not yours, obviously," she rolls her eyes at the last word, "But who's the designer? How much is it?" To be honest, I have no idea how much does this skirt suit cost. All I know is Drey specifically asked me to wear this on my first meeting with Mr Gunn. Uhh, I mean Honey. "Uhm let me check," I walk to my bed and grab the skirt I laid there, wanting to inspect the tag at the back to which she ga
"Go to the penthouse, meet him there. Have dinner with him. Off you go to your own bedroom to end the night."Step one is completed, now onto step two. Honestly, I'm prepared to give him two kisses a day, as per Drey's briefing. One would be in the morning, when I send him to the door before he go to work. The second would be at night, right before we depart to each other's bedroom. And those kisses were supposed to be lip-locked but being a hard headed, I made it a non-negotiable condition on top of the two he agreed earlier before I signed the contract, that I will only kiss his cheek, unlike the previous Scarletts who would have no problem to kiss him on the lips. I'm a Muslim, remember? But that, was unexpected. I thought I have at least an hour or two to decide if I'm pulling myself out of this charade but one minute in, he already marked his lips on my body. My hair, to be exact. "Bee," the way he calls me as he goes down the stairs gives me this certain vibe, as if I'm r
"Tell him I-love-you as much as you want, that's part of your job description. And don't worry, he won't fall for you." "He never fall in love with any of the Scarletts?" "Nope. Every time we have a new Scarlett he has no problem to switch them up." "You mean he currently has a Scarlett? Like right-now?""Her contract will be terminated just before yours is activated, as in your first day with him." "What? I thought you said he's nice?" "He is. But this is a business transaction. If we have a new product, of course he wants the latest version.""So we're like iPhones? To be changed every time a new one is available? He's a jerk alright." I still remember that conversation I had with Drey, and the remark I made of calling him a jerk. But when he said ‘I love you’ just now, he doesn't seem like he's lying. Like he's not the jerk I thought he was. "I love you too, Honey." I reply sweetly, silently knocking my head to remind me that I'm on the clock. He said I-love-you to Scarlet
This is harder than I imagined. To maintain Scarlett's image, I get out of his penthouse in another designer skirt suit and a pair of Louboutin with matching Hermes Kelly. My hair as instructed by Drey, is kept in a low bun."Scarlett will always wear a suit to work, be it a pantsuit or a skirt suit. Bag, always Hermes either a Birkin or a Kelly. Shoes, make sure they're at least four inches high. Hair, in a bun. A professional bun, very much different than a formal dinner bun. And lastly, red lipstick." I am struggling over here to remove this pencil skirt that will be replaced with a pair of slacks. My slacks. Because it'd be weird to wear a headscarf with a skirt that stops a little over the knee. God, it's so hard to have double personalities. Once I'm done with my pants, I put on my hijab to cover my blonde hair. Then I swipe the red color off my lips and use my usual nude lipstick. Lastly, I replace the Louboutin with my Salvatore Ferragamo flats, the one I always opt for wo
I've always had this dilemma whenever I travel, ESPECIALLY when I travel with my family. We are foodie people, we travel mostly because of food, and travelling overseas means we don't really get halal food all the time. It's easy for my family because they don't mind eating anything as long as it's not pork. But for me, who's a bit particular about food, since I've gotta maintain my hijabis image and all, I'd always opt for vegan or kosher meals. Until it reaches the seventh or eighth day of our vacation that I'd get sick of eating the same old limited-option vegan and kosher meals while watching my family gobble anything in the world except pork. That's how my faith fades a bit and I start to taste just a bite of what they're having that suddenly, out of nowhere, I'm already ordering a full meal for myself. And now, after three months of living in New York with those limited food option, I am now being served a plate of meat that looked fucking delicious with such beautiful deco
My wardrobe is stocked with different types of clothes, already being categorised accordingly by Drey to ease me in choosing one without getting confused. Casual wear-home, casual wear-dates, casual wear-family, casual wear-friends, oh God how many categories are there for casual wear alone? Then there are nightgowns, workwear, brunch dresses, lunch dresses, tea dresses, dinner dresses, Goddd there are so many categories I'm beginning to wonder how committed Drey is with his job for being thisss particular, on top of the extensive training he put me on for two months straight. Today is my first weekend with Honey, and if my memory serves, we're going to have a picnic later. I'm not sure when will it be but for now, I need to worry on what to wear between his coffee at 7 and brunch at 11- assuming we're really having a picnic brunch later- so what should I wear when I'm home with him? Yeah yeah, I have this entire section dedicated for ‘casual wear-home’ but which one should I choo
I've gotta say I'm proud of myself. I wasn't always overweight. I've been in the normal BMI range the entire school years until I broke up with my boyfriend after graduation. From there on, I went into this steep line of climbing towards overweight in just three months that from a normal size 6, I went to size 12, sometimes 10 if I wear clothes fit to my body but mostly 12, because I like baggy clothes to hide my figure. So yeah, it's all because of that motherfucker. He didn't just broke my heart, he inspired me to eat crappy food -as crappy as him- that I swell everywhere with fat, making me gain kilos that I hadn't been able to lose until ten years later. That ten-years-later was two months ago when Drey put me on this strict diet with workout-regime-from-hell that I managed to lose weight to size 8, though Drey insists I look better in size 6. From what I saw in the wardrobe, Drey clearly ignores my preference as most of the clothes are in size 6. So here I am, sitting on the
First weekend was a success. Though all we did was build that ridiculously huge Lego set and eat take-out. We stayed up until 5am and the next morning when I prepared him coffee at 7, he didn't even come down. He could've told me he'll be sleeping in, hmph. I took my revenge by cooking myself a big breakfast. Not those lame fruits but eggs in three ways; scrambled, omelette, and deviled. As if I hadn't rebelled enough, I drank a cup of coffee and went back to sleep until late afternoon. When I came down around 3, he was sitting at the same spot where we built the lego yesterday, dealing with some that we couldn't managed to finish. It's compelling, really, to watch him so immersed in building those. We ordered another take out for what seemed to be late-lunch-cum-early-dinner, and continued building that thing until around 10 when we finally go to bed feeling accomplished seeing that majestic Lego set sitting proudly next to the couch. The next five days was pretty boring as I go