12

Ingrid grimaced at her reflection in the mirror after getting her hair and makeup done by Maki, one of RTA’s stylists and Pat’s boyfriend.

"Do I really have to look like this?" she muttered.

In all fairness, Ingrid looked stunning with the makeover. She looked like a celebrity with her beachy waves and soft smoky eye makeup. She rarely wore makeup or styled her hair. Just face powder and a peach or nude lipstick for work. Her long hair was always in a ponytail, which Pat constantly nagged her to highlight with caramel balayage.

"Yes!" the two chorused loudly.

She was wearing a midnight blue draped asymmetrical maxi skirt that revealed one of her thighs. Her top was a cream-colored halter. She still felt uncomfortable with her bare arms showing.

"Girl, you're going to be seen on TV while handing those documents to Maverick Logan," Maki said, even shaking her shoulder for emphasis.

"You can’t show up looking like a nun. You’d ruin RTA’s image," Pat added, laughing.

RTA was known as a talent agency that produced celebrities with gorgeous faces and bodies. Many people said the agency’s artists, entertainers, and models had no other talent except for showing off their looks. Even the company admitted that physical appearance was the main asset of their talents. But they had also discovered some rare gems—celebrities who had potential and had developed their hidden talents, now becoming some of the most respected multimedia personalities in the country.

"My shoes have insanely high heels," she complained with a frown as she slipped on the pair Pat had bought for her.

They were black open-toe booties with four-inch stilettos. She had practiced wearing them for days, and, in all fairness, she no longer feared walking in them. She even managed to do Zumba wearing them.

"Oh, come on," her cousin said. "When will you finally learn to wear heels that aren’t chunky half-inch ones? And this is a huge event you're going to. What are you, an old librarian or a teacher?"

Ingrid just laughed and rolled her eyes.

She grabbed her evening purse that matched her shoes and said goodbye to the two. "Okay, I’m heading out. I don’t want to be late."

"Okay," Maki replied. "Sorry, we can’t come with you. We really wanted to go to the event too if it weren’t my dad’s birthday today."

"That’s totally fine," she said with a smile and kissed them on the cheeks.

"Don’t be nervous, okay?" Pat reminded her. "I know you hate crowds, but you can do this, all right? You are beautiful, coz. There's no reason to feel shy."

Ingrid nodded repeatedly. "I can handle this," she said, puffing up her chest with confidence.

---

There were already a lot of people in the hotel function hall when Ingrid arrived. Members of the media, bloggers, and representatives of companies endorsed by Maverick Logan were present. Some RTA celebrities were there too, like her favorite, Bela Roces, who was seated at a table with Gian Manzano, the director of her current telenovela.

Then Ingrid spotted the famous model talking to Noah near the long table on the low stage.

Oh, my God! What to do? What to do? She panicked internally, only realizing then that she was nearly crumpling the folder that held Maverick's contract.

She jumped slightly when she heard Raffy’s voice from behind her.

"Ingrid! Oh, my! Look at you. I thought you were one of our celebrity guests," she said, laughing and full of awe as Ingrid turned to face her.

"Thank you," Ingrid said a bit shyly to her boss.

As expected, Raffy was wearing an outrageous outfit. Her makeup was very colorful, and she had a large peacock feather in her hair. She loved avant-garde fashion—she even designed her own clothes. She styled herself and didn’t care if people laughed at her or if fashion designers and makeup artists mocked her. That was how she expressed her sense of fashion. And honestly, Ingrid admired her for it.

"You should wear outfits like that at work," Raffy said with a wink. "Maybe you’ll seduce your grumpy bachelor boss."

Ingrid laughed. Seduce? What was seductive about her?

"Who’s the grumpy bachelor?"

Her eyes widened when she heard Noah’s voice approaching. Raffy had clearly intended for him to hear that.

Noah looked dashing in his dark blue suit. He walked with confidence—assured yet measured. He seemed oblivious to everyone else as his eyes locked only on her.

Why did his gaze feel so different? It was intense. The kind of look that made a woman feel self-conscious, nervous, yet flattered at the same time. The kind of gaze that made you want to drown in the eyes that carried it.

That was exactly how Ingrid felt at that moment. She even swallowed involuntarily.

"Hi, old man," Raffy said with a laugh as she hugged her cousin.

"I'm not old, silly," Noah replied.

"Then stop acting like one."

"Our meeting," Noah reminded her.

"Ugh! I told you, we have nothing more to discuss. I can almost guarantee Edmund doesn’t have another case at RTA," Raffy protested. "And please, can we not talk about that now—or ever?"

Noah didn’t respond.

"Good evening, Sir," Ingrid greeted.

He returned the greeting formally. "Good evening, Miss Delgado."

"Isn't she lovely?" Raffy teased, elbowing her cousin.

"She is very lovely," Noah responded smoothly.

Was it just her, or did Noah’s voice sound a bit hoarse?

Ingrid didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t used to being complimented for her looks. She knew she wasn’t ugly. She could admit that she had a good figure. Maybe she just never had the confidence to flaunt her looks because her family never encouraged her to—except for Pat.

"She’s beauty and brains too," Raffy proudly said about her.

"I know," Noah replied. "She’s very smart and dependable at work."

"I’m just lending her to you, okay?" Raffy said.

"Well, it looks like the lending will take a while because Mariz just called earlier. She’s still undecided about going back to work. She doesn’t want to leave her sick mother."

"That’s fine. Just be good to her. Don’t you dare snap at her, I’m telling you."

Ingrid laughed at Raffy’s protectiveness. "Don’t worry. Sir Noah is kind to me," she said.

"Ah, that’s good. But let me know if he snaps at you," Raffy said, tapping her cousin’s chest.

"I don’t snap at her," Noah said, sounding a little defensive. He smiled when he looked at her.

Ingrid liked that smile. It was warm, friendly—and something else. Hmm, maybe he just needed to be off work to loosen up like that?

Ingrid survived the night. She was even pleased when Maverick smiled as she placed the contract in front of him. She was also included in the group photo after the signing and the short press conference. She was about to leave the stage, but Noah stopped her and kept her by his side.

He wrapped his arm around her waist as they posed for photos. She didn’t want to overthink it, but there was something different about the way he held her. His grip was firm—almost possessive.

But more surprisingly, even though she felt the malice of it, she didn’t feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. In fact, Ingrid liked being held that way. She felt so much like a woman. Like, what the heck? All that just from being held by her boss? For all she knew, it probably meant nothing to Noah.