helping hands

He raised an eyebrow as I covered my mouth, shocked by my own words. "Hmm," he said, his smirk sending a shiver down my spine.

I stepped away, trying to compose myself. "Give me tulips, a bouquet of them," he said, his tone firm.

I stared, wide-eyed. "What?" I asked, confused.

He repeated, "I want the tulips," his tone implying I should be obvious.

I furrowed my eyebrows, still perplexed. "Fine, I'll package them for you to go."

He nodded, his phone ringing. He walked away to answer it, leaving me to prepare the bouquet.

As I finished packaging the tulips, a tan-skinned man entered the shop. "I'm Mr. Blackwood's assistant. He asked me to pick up a bouquet of tulip flowers."

His robotic tone was professional, but lacked warmth. I handed him the flowers, wondering why Ryder couldn't be bothered to pick them up himself.

After the assistant left, I attended to a few more customers until my shift ended. Miss Rina approached me, smiling. "Thanks, Ashley, for taking over today. I know you're exhausted."

I shook my head. "No, I'm okay. It's part of my job. You don't need to thank me."

Miss Rina smiled and handed me a white envelope. "Take this."

I stared at the envelope, then at her. "What is this?" I asked.

"Your monthly bonus," she replied.

My eyes widened in surprise. "But it's not the end of the month yet."

Miss Rina's expression turned kind. "I know, I know it's early. But I've been watching you take extra shifts, and I know you want to pay for your mom's bills. You deserve it."

I hugged her tightly, tears of gratitude welling up in my eyes. "Thank you so much. You don't know how much this means to me."

Miss Rina smiled and patted my back. "Don't worry, your mom will be fine."

I wiped away my tears and nodded, feeling a sense of hope. I thanked Mrs Rina again and rushed to the hospital, eager to share the good news with my mom.

"Maya, I have work to do, I really can't come," I said, struggling to fold my laundry.

But Maya was persistent, lounging on my bed with a pleading expression. "Come on, Ash, you work every day. Just take a break."

I raised an eyebrow. "Because I have bills to pay, unlike some people," I teased.

Maya's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Yeah, I know, my dad pays my bills. But I need a plus one for the event today. Please, Ash?" She practically begged, her voice laced with persuasion.

I knew what she was asking. She wanted me to be her escort to her father's birthday party. His millionaire status still baffled me, especially considering he let Maya live in our modest apartment, claiming she wanted to experience "real life."

I sighed, giving in. "Fine, but you owe me one."

Maya squealed, bouncing off the bed. "Yes! Let's go shopping!"

We stepped out of the Uber and into Victoria's Secret. Maya grabbed a pink dress and I raised an eyebrow. "Umm, are you sure about this?" I asked, hesitant.

"Why not?" Maya replied, examining the outfit.

"These are super expensive. Let's just go to the thrift shop," I suggested, eyeing the price tags.

Maya shot me a stern look. "No way, Ash. This is a millionaire's birthday party. Fashion designers will be there, and if you show up in a fake dress, they'll notice and publicly humiliate you." She emphasized her point with dramatic hand gestures.

I opened my mouth to protest, but Maya cut me off. "But nothing, Ash. I'm not taking you to that party for you to get humiliated. Okay?"

I nodded reluctantly, knowing Maya wouldn't budge.

Maya handed me a stunning red satin spaghetti strap dress. "C'mon, go try it on!" she exclaimed.

I took the dress and stepped into the dressing room. As I slipped into the gown, the satin fabric hugged my curves, and the vibrant red color made my dark skin glow. I smoothed out the dress, feeling a surge of confidence

I stepped out of the dressing room, and Maya's eyes widened in awe. "Wow, you look stunning!" she breathed.

I smiled, feeling a flutter of excitement. "Thanks, Maya."

But my gaze drifted to the price tag, and my enthusiasm faltered. "This is super expensive," I protested.

Maya's expression turned stern. "Not another word, Ash," she warned, her voice firm.

I sighed, knowing better than to argue with Maya when she was in "treat-me-like-royalty" mode. "Fine," I relented

Maya dragged me into a salon, determined to complete my transformation. "Now, it's time for your makeup," she announced.

She introduced me to Michelle, a skilled makeup artist with a warm smile. "Michelle, this is Ash. Ash, this is Michelle."

Maya instructed Michelle, "I want you to do your artwork on her." She spoke as if I were a blank canvas, waiting for Michelle's creative brushstrokes.

Michelle nodded, her eyes sparkling with inspiration. Within minutes, her skilled hands moved deftly, brushes dancing across my face as she worked her magic..transforming me into a stunning version of myself.

As I gazed into the mirror, I barely recognized the person staring back at me. The vibrant red dress hugged my curves, and the makeup accentuated my features.

I felt a surge of confidence, but my mind kept drifting back to Ryder's ominous words: "Marry me."