Chapter 12

Seraphina Voss, CEO of Voss Holdings, terror of boardrooms and current aspiring architect of a man's downfall, sat on her kitchen counter at nine on a Saturday morning, eating cereal straight out of the box because she couldn't be bothered to find a bowl.

Contrary to what society may believe, she preferred buying the cereal that came in sachets so she could dump her milk in and eat on the go rather than have to do dishes after. She hated doing dishes.

She had the television on low, some baking competition she was not really watching, and her hair was piled on top of her head in a knot that would have horrified her assistant if anyone from the office ever saw it.

She thought about the red dress anyway. She hated that she thought about the red dress.

*A different look from your usual office dressing,* he'd said. He probably meant it to irk her but she had spent five years building a closet full of sharp, colorless armor, black, navy, the occasional cream when she wanted to look softer than she was. It had never once occurred to her that the armor itself was not going to do her any favors for her great ruin Cassian Devereaux plan.

She set the cereal down, wiped her hands, and decided that she was going shopping.

The boutique she ended up in was not one she usually bothered with, tucked two streets off the main strip, more colorful in the windows than anything she typically let herself waltz into. But it had colour and colour Seraphina wanted.

She was flipping through a rack of jewel-toned blazers, her usual blacks already picked out, half convinced she was wasting her Saturday, when a voice cut in from somewhere behind her.

"Absolutely not the green one."

Seraphina turned. A woman about her own age stood a few feet away, dark curls, her arms full of clothes and her face eager.

"Excuse me?"

She was surprised at the girl’s boldness. Nobody really talked to her without trying to flatter her.

"The green blazer. You were about to try it, weren't you? Don't. It'll wash you out completely." The woman stepped closer, sizing her up with the casual look of someone who had spent a lifetime being right about this exact thing. "You want the burgundy. Or that deep red at the end. Something with warmth in it."

"You work here?"

"God, no. I just have opinions and nowhere else to put them today." She stuck out a hand. "Talia."

"Seraphina."

"Never seen anyone with that name before but it suits you. I like it." Talia was already pulling the red piece off the rack and holding it up against her without asking permission. "This one. Trust me."

"I don't usually take styling advice from strangers in boutiques."

"Everyone says that right before they take styling advice from a stranger in a boutique." Talia grinned, unrepentant. "Go try it on. I'll wait. I have nothing else to do today and mildly bullying strangers into good outfits is my favorite hobby."

Seraphina laughed before she could stop herself and took the blazer.

It fit and looked better than anything else she had tried on all morning.

"See?" Talia said, when she stepped out of the fitting room. "Told you. You've got a whole personality hiding under all that black you picked out. Seems like you’ve been used to dressing like you are planning war”

"That's fairly accurate, actually."

"I knew it. I can always tell." Talia handed her a card from her bag, slightly bent at one corner. "I do this for a living, actually, badly disguised as unsolicited retail harassment. Call me if you ever want another unsolicited opinion.”

Seraphina took the card and turned it over in her hand.

"I just might. I mean who else is going to tell me green washes me out?”

"Then it's settled." Talia slung her bag over her shoulder, already halfway to the door. "Buy the red one. Wear it and bring out those gorgeous eyes. And call me. I mean it."

Seraphina watched her go, then looked down at the deep red blazer folded over her arm and she bought it. She bought three more like it before she left.