“Just take this time to unwind and let me work my magic.” She hums an upbeat tune, and the tension flows from me like water. I lean into her touch, seeking her warmth and the unexplainable aura that tugs me toward her. I’ve been closed off and cold inside for so long.
“Okay, time to open those beautiful brown eyes.”
I lift my heavy lids, and she smiles. “Welcome back. Look up. I’m just using a concealer.” Her fingers dab on a few dots. She blends with a sponge. Pleased, she nods her head in what I think is approval. “And a very light highlighter and powder.” Grinning, she steps back. “Okay, now for your approval before I use a setting spray.” I look in the mirror and find myself pleasantly astounded.
“I look like me.”
“That’s the point, right?” she asks playfully.
I smile sadly. “Depends on who you’re asking. Can you add a bit of eyeliner and mascara?”
“I’m on it.” She makes the adjustment, and I approve the look. The setting spray is applied, and I watch as she cleanses her equipment.
“I know this is terribly unprofessional ...”
My heart plummets. This is where Hart proves me wrong, and I realize she’s just like everyone else.
“But can you write an encouraging note to my sister, Fiona?”
“For your sister?”
She nods. “You’re her favorite K-Drama actor.”
“You seem like you take good care of her.” How can I compare this woman who’s so selfless to Chung-Ho? She could be lying to get on the show.
“I promised my mother I’d help her and Dad adjust now that she’s gone.” She sighs. “I’m not sure if I’m doing a good job, but I’m trying, and for my mom, that was what mattered most.” The sorrow in her voice is too real to be faked.
“She sounds like a wonderful woman.”
“Oh, she was.” She nods.
I look around the room and grab a pad. “You said her name was Fiona?”
“Yes, F-I-O-N-A.”
Hwaiting, Fiona! Thank you for supporting Secret Heiress.
Yoon Kim
I hand the note over, and she hugs it to her chest. “You’ve just made me the coolest big sister around.”
“I wish I could see her face when she receives this.”
“Do you want me to send you a picture?”
I hesitate. It’s not against the rules, but it’s frowned upon.
“Yes, please.”
We exchange numbers and Sang reappears. My heart pounds. Am I being pulled into another con? “Oh, this is very nice, Mrs. Hartley.”
“It’s just Hart.”
A sweet name for a sweet woman?
Chapter Two
Hart