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"So here's my offer," he said, sitting up straight, as if he was about to conduct serious business. "I will make you three dresses: one red, one white and one black. And if you wear these dresses, and if you do everything I say, then you will become the most beautiful woman on earth. You will become, in fact, the most beautiful woman who has ever lived."
"You heard me."
At first I couldn't even process this proposal, I couldn't begin to wrap my brain around what he'd just said. He was a rich and successful man and, in his way, a major force. He'd known my mother. But aside from all that, I didn't know what the hell he was talking about.
Or maybe I did know, maybe I'd understood him perfectly, and maybe that's why I felt like I was choking and drowning and like I had to get out of there, I had to run, even if it meant bashing myself against the marble walls and scratching to find the elevator or a hidden emergency exit and a staircase.
"I'm leaving," I said, standing. But once I was up, I couldn't move. I couldn't leave. And he knew it.