I want You Deeper

Watching your business’s gradual self-destruction was a slow form of torture.

Heath slammed the lid on his laptop down and stared out his window at the parking lot. She would be here any minute, this infuriatingly distracting woman he’d hired to help him. Meanwhile, there was an entire crew in his house, waiting to turn him into someone else.

“Mr. Hardcastle?”

That was the makeup guy. The crew was made up of all guys for some reason. Interestingly, a woman had been the one who had contacted him about doing this TV show, which she’d said was pretty popular. One hour of TV and it was possible-maybe remotely so, but possible-that he could correct all the bad press he’d gotten after his company had been accused of ripping off Justin Travers’s app.

“You ready now?”

Heath spun around in his chair, rolling away from his desk. Earlier, the guy had set up a table and covered it with makeup. He could honestly say this would be the first time in his life anyone had put makeup on him. He would never have imagined the first time it happened would be to save his reputation.

“Let’s do this.” Heath stood, clapped his hands once, then did his usual arm-stretch exercise. He had no idea why he did things like that. “You going to make me look older? Younger? Scruffier?”

The makeup guy smiled. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Heath nodded and rolled his chair over to the makeup table. This was part of the deal he’d made with himself. Give up control. Trust other people to help him. It was something he’d struggled with most of his life, but it was especially hard now. He’d trusted an overseas company to develop an app for him and now it threatened to destroy him.

Trust.

Heath sat down in the chair and closed his eyes, mostly to avoid the awkwardness of someone staring at him. The guy seemed to be studying him, like Heath’s face was a canvas he was about to paint. Interestingly, that was exactly what this guy was about to do. “I let myself in.”Original content from NôvelDrama.Org.

The sound of a female voice caused Heath’s eyes to pop wide open. Behind the makeup guy, in the doorway, was Vanessa, and she looked… amazing. “Come on in,” the makeup guy said. As if this was his house, his office. Control…

Heath took a deep breath and nodded at Vanessa, who hadn’t moved. He’d somehow managed to fall into that same numb state he’d been in a few days ago when she showed up for her audition. One look at her and he seemed to have trouble speaking, walking, smiling-all the things he’d done freely before his company had been on the verge of collapse.

Yeah, he’d lost his confidence. And nothing made him more aware of that than having Vanessa Gilbert nearby.

“I’m Vanessa Gilbert.” She extended her hand to the makeup artist, who shook it enthusiastically and immediately began chatting her up about her blouse, which was apparently some brand-name something-or-other. In a matter of seconds, the two of them somehow became best buds.

“He grew out some scruff, so my job’s easier,” the makeup artist, whose name was Josea, said. “I’m thinking a full-on beard, though?”

Vanessa moved to stand in front of Heath, assessing him alongside Josea. “You can do that?”

“Watch me!”

Heath had watched a few of the show’s episodes online and found it almost laughable. The bosses always looked a little over-the-top. They’d take some obviously older dude and try to young him up by throwing on some horrendous wig. If the boss was a woman, they’d just throw some glasses on and an oversized cardigan, like Central Casting had called for someone who looked “dowdy” for the job. He was pretty sure the employees always figured out it was their boss in disguise, but they pretended for the sake of the cameras.

That was why he’d tried growing a beard. Only, for some reason, his facial hair never extended beyond a five o’clock shadow.

“Make it look real, that’s all I ask,” Heath said.

Did that sound gruff? He didn’t mean to be demanding or rude. What was wrong with him these days?

“I agree.” Vanessa squinted and tilted her head slightly. “Less is more with this one.” This one?

Heath looked at her, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth. For some reason, being called “this one” amused him more than anything had in a while. Maybe it was the way she said it. There was just something about this woman…

“So…tell me about this moat you have around your house.” Vanessa, seemingly oblivious to Heath’s amusement, grabbed the chair in the corner and pulled it over in front of him. She sat down, smoothing the legs of her dress pants with her hands as though to straighten imaginary wrinkles.

“Moat?” he asked.

“That’s what I called it!” Josea said as he began sponging makeup liberally across Heath’s forehead. “It’s like this is a castle.”

Heath finally figured out what they were talking about. “It’s a manmade lazy river.”

That didn’t help his case-assuming his case was to be apologetic about his home. They were both staring at him now, including Josea, who was supposed to be working. Should he point out that they were on a tight timeline here?

“A lazy river?” Josea asked. “Like what they have at waterparks?”

Heath laughed. It came out more as a dry laugh, but he figured it was at least a little progress toward his normal self.

“Not exactly. Don’t grab an inner tube and jump in or anything. There are fish in there. It’s mostly for looks.”

“Can someone fish out of there?” he heard Vanessa ask. Heard, rather than saw, because he had to keep his eyes closed as Josea brushed some sort of scented powder over his face. He was pretty sure there was a cloud of powder floating around him right now.

“The fish are to keep algae down. It’s all for looks.”

Heath should add that this place had come like this. He’d bought it off a builder after it had been on the market, on and off, for seven years. It had been far more house than he’d needed, but there was an amazing pool, along with a workout facility and this office they were in right now, which overlooked the pond they were all talking about… Still, he worked hard for his money and felt no reason to apologize for all of this.

So why was he worried about it?

“What do you think?”

At Josea’s question, Heath’s eyes popped open. Mostly because Josea had stepped back and stopped working on his face. Were they done already?

“I still have to do the beard, but-”

Heath cut Josea off. “You’re doing a beard?”

“Yeah. This isn’t enough of a disguise. Trust me. I’m the beard master.”

Vanessa laughed. “Hipster beard! Hipster beard! Hipster beard!”

Josea started cheering right along with her as he dance-walked over to his bag, which he’d set on the floor next to the door. He pulled out what looked like a small tackle box and set it on the table behind Heath. Heath, meanwhile, closed his eyes again, sure he probably didn’t want to know what was about to happen.

“Hardcastle Enterprises has a certain look,” Josea said as he rustled around behind Heath. “No hipster beards. More-dudes who haven’t followed fashion in at least a decade.”

Vanessa let out a sound. Heath identified it as a suppressed laugh. Initially, Heath applied the criticism to himself, but his look was fairly generic. Shaven face, short hair, T-shirt and jeans most days. It was typical “Silicon Valley CEO,” as far as he was concerned. You didn’t see too many suits around here, nor did you see startup founders worrying about what was trending in fashion these days.

But then he moved on to his staff. He admittedly spent most of his time networking, both locally and at various trade shows and events where his company set up booths for customers. That was the bulk of his business- but he’d tried to make the move into apps, mostly with success. Until his Tutor2Tutor app had crashed and burned in the most public way possible.

And now, he was dealing with criticism over the relative fashion sense of his trade show booth team. Relevant, considering they were trying to make him look like he was one of them, but it was really the last thing he needed to worry about right now.

“So, let’s talk game plan,” Vanessa said.

Heath immediately relaxed. He didn’t even realize how tense he’d gotten, just thinking about his professional situation. “Talking game plan” made him feel in control of things a little more.

“Today, we’re going to my offices.” Realizing his slip-up, Heath rushed to correct it. “The offices. I have to get away from thinking of this business as mine. They already grabbed some footage of me around the house, working in here at my desk, that sort of thing.”

Silence followed. He opened his eyes and looked at her. She was staring at him. “What?”

She shook her head slightly, but there was a smile on her face. While he was trying to piece together what was happening here, Josea stepped back.

“Looks good, right?” Josea asked Vanessa.

“Wow.” Vanessa smiled. “I honestly wouldn’t know it was the same person. But what about the hair?”

Heath looked around. There had to be a mirror somewhere around here. No mirror. He’d never even considered having a mirror in his office. Why would he need such a thing?

Vanessa repeated her question. “What about the hair? That hair’s definitely distinctive.”

Josea stepped in front of Heath, finger to his chin, head tilted slightly. Studying him again. Heath didn’t like feeling as though he was some sort of art project, but that fit with the way Josea had assessed him initially. Like he was a blank canvas he was about to fill.

“That’s why I brought hats.” Josea once again danced over to his bag, even though there was no reason to dance, really. No music playing, not even the cheering he and Vanessa had been doing the last time he’d danced over there. Heath felt like he’d crashed their party.

“Sheesh,” Heath said as Josea began pulling out baseball caps. “How much can you fit in that bag? It’s like a clown car.”

“I’m a pro-fess-ion-al.” For some reason, Josea enunciated each syllable of that. Heath decided to just nod and go along with it.

“Which one?” Josea held one after another, in turn, up to Heath’s face and looked to Vanessa for her reaction. Shouldn’t Heath be the one handling this? They definitely needed a mirror.

Control.

Heath took a deep breath and closed his eyes. But then he realized having his eyes closed made it look like he was losing patience with the process. So, he opened them again and stared directly at Vanessa, willing her to choose the one that didn’t make him look half as foolish as the other guys who’d done the show.

“The pink one.” Vanessa nodded as if to back up her decision. Yep. The pink one. Why didn’t that surprise him?

It wasn’t just some pale color of pink, either. It was a bright pink you could spot from miles away. In fact, it would probably reflect off his skin and make his entire face look pink in certain lighting.

“I don’t think-”

But Josea wasn’t really sticking around for Heath’s opinion. He slapped the hat onto Heath’s head, then turned to Vanessa. “Okay, your turn.”

Vanessa stared up at him, eyes wide. “I already did my makeup.”

“First, no. That won’t work. You’re going to be on camera. Second, we’re going to pick out your wardrobe before we worry about makeup. Come with me.”

Vanessa flashed Heath a “help me” look before following Josea out of the room. Apparently, the guy couldn’t fit a wardrobe into his bag. Heath had already been down that road before Vanessa arrived. That was why he was wearing these khaki pants and this golf shirt. But now that he was alone in the office, he finally had the chance to check out his look.

Dreading what he was about to see, Heath stood and crossed the room to his desk. That was where he’d left his phone. He may not have a mirror in this room, but he most definitely had a camera on his phone, perfect in a pinch for checking out how he looked.

He unlocked the phone, pulled up the camera, flipped the view around, and nearly dropped the phone. Whoa.

No hipster beard. This was just a plain beard. No big deal, but it was the complete opposite of what he normally had. What was really strange, though, was that the makeup artist had somehow managed to make him look not like himself. His cheeks looked puffier, his eyes narrower, his lashes far longer… And even standing up close, someone wouldn’t be able to tell he was wearing makeup.

Despite how goofy he looked, he had all-new respect for the guy with the clown-car bag.