DIRTY ATTRACTION

Part 12

Ingrid frowned at her reflection in the mirror after being styled by Maki, one of RTA’s stylists and Pat’s boyfriend.

"Do I really have to look like this?" she muttered.

In all fairness, Ingrid's makeup and hairstyle were done beautifully. With her beachy waves and soft smoky eye makeup, she looked like a celebrity. She never really wore makeup or styled her hair. At work, she only used face powder and peach or nude lipstick. Her long hair was always tied up, much to Pat’s frustration, who constantly urged her to get caramel balayage highlights.

"Yes!" the two of them answered loudly.

She was wearing a midnight blue draped maxi asymmetrical skirt, revealing half of one leg. Her halter top was in a cream shade, and she still felt awkward with her arms exposed.

"Girl, you’re going to be seen on TV while handing Maverick Logan the documents he needs to sign," Maki said, shaking her shoulders.

"You can’t just show up looking like a nun, right? That would ruin RTA’s image," Pat added, laughing.

RTA was known as a talent agency that produced celebrities with beautiful faces and bodies. Many claimed that the only talent their artists, entertainers, and models had was flaunting their looks. Even the company admitted that physical appearance was the primary asset of their talents. But they had also discovered precious gems—celebrities with real potential who had honed their hidden talents and risen to become highly regarded multimedia personalities in the country.

"The heels on my shoes are too high," she grumbled as she slipped them on. Pat had personally bought them for her.

They were black open-toe booties with four-inch stiletto heels. She had practiced walking in them for days, and in all fairness, she was no longer afraid to wear them. She had even done Zumba in them.

"What is wrong with you?" her cousin said. "When will you finally learn to wear heels that aren’t just half-inch thick? And this is a grand event! What are you, a strict librarian or a schoolteacher?"

Ingrid just laughed and smirked.

She grabbed her evening purse, which matched her shoes, and bid them farewell. "Okay, I’m leaving now. I don’t want to be late."

"Okay," Maki said. "Sorry we can’t take you there. We really wanted to attend the event, but it’s my dad’s birthday today."

"That’s okay," she replied with a smile, giving them a quick cheek kiss.

"Don’t be nervous, okay?" Pat reminded her. "I know you hate crowds, but you can do this, all right? You are beautiful, coz. There’s no reason to feel shy."

Ingrid nodded rapidly. "I can handle this," she said, taking a deep breath.

---

The hotel’s function hall was already packed when Ingrid arrived. Members of the media, bloggers, and representatives from companies endorsing Maverick Logan’s products were present. Some RTA celebrities were also there, including her favorite, Bela Roces, who was sitting at a table with Gian Manzano, the director of her telenovela.

Then Ingrid spotted a famous model talking to Noah near a long table on a slightly elevated stage.

Oh, my God! What to do? What to do? she panicked internally, realizing she was almost crumpling the folder containing Maverick’s contract.

She jumped when she suddenly heard Raffy’s voice behind her.

"Ingrid! Oh, my! Look at you! I thought you were one of our celebrity guests," Raffy exclaimed, laughing in amazement when Ingrid turned to her.

"Thank you," Ingrid replied, slightly embarrassed in front of her boss.

As expected, Raffy was wearing an outrageous outfit. Her makeup was incredibly colorful, and she had a massive peacock feather in her hair. She loved avant-garde fashion, designing her own outfits, and styling herself. She didn’t care if people laughed at her or if fashion designers and makeup artists criticized her. She said it was how she expressed her unique sense of fashion. Truthfully, Ingrid admired her for it.

"You should wear outfits like that at work," Raffy said with a wink. "Maybe you’ll finally seduce your old bachelor boss."

Ingrid laughed. As if she had anything seductive about her.

"Who’s the old bachelor?"

Her eyes widened when she heard Noah’s voice. He had approached them without her noticing. It seemed Raffy had intentionally said it loud enough for him to hear.

Noah looked dashing in his dark blue suit. He walked with confidence—sure but careful with every step. He seemed oblivious to everyone around them, his gaze fixed only on her.

Why did his look feel different? It was deep and intense. The kind of look that made a woman feel self-conscious, nervous, yet flattered all at once. A gaze that made you want to drown in those eyes.

That was exactly how Ingrid felt at that moment. She swallowed involuntarily.

"Hi, old man," Raffy teased, hugging her cousin.

"I'm not old, silly," Noah replied.

"Well, stop acting like one."

"Our meeting," he reminded her.

"Ugh! I told you, we have nothing left to discuss. I can almost guarantee that Edmund has no more similar cases at RTA," Raffy protested. "And please, let’s not talk about that now—or ever."

Noah said nothing more.

"Good evening, Sir," Ingrid greeted.

He formally returned the greeting. "Good evening, Miss Delgado."

"Isn’t she lovely?" Raffy teased, nudging her cousin.

"She is very lovely," Noah agreed.

Was it just her, or did Noah’s voice sound a little hoarse?

Ingrid didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t used to being complimented on her looks. She knew she wasn’t ugly. She could even say she had a nice figure. Maybe she just lacked the confidence to flaunt her beauty because her family had never encouraged her—except for Pat.

"She’s beauty and brains, too," Raffy proudly said.

"I know," Noah replied. "She’s very smart and dependable at work."

"I’m just lending her to you, okay?" Raffy warned.

"Well, it looks like the lending will take a while because Mariz just called earlier. She’s still undecided about returning to work. She doesn’t want to leave her sick mother."

"That’s fine. Just be good to her. Don’t be grumpy with her. I’m telling you."

Ingrid chuckled at how Raffy was defending her. "Don’t worry. Sir Noah is kind to me," she assured.

"Ah, that’s good. But if he ever gets grumpy, tell me," Raffy said, patting her cousin’s chest.

"I’m not grumpy to her," Noah said, slightly embarrassed. Then he smiled at Ingrid.

Ingrid liked that smile. It was warm, friendly, and something else. Hmm, maybe he just needed to be off work to loosen up like that?

Ingrid survived the night. She was even happy when Maverick smiled as she placed the contract in front of him for signing. She was included in the group picture after the contract signing and brief press conference. She was about to leave the stage when Noah stopped her, keeping her by his side.

He wrapped his arm around her waist while they were being photographed. She didn’t want to overthink it, but she felt something strange. His grip on her waist was firm—almost possessive?

But, more surprisingly, even though she felt a hint of something inappropriate, she didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. In fact, Ingrid liked being held like that. She felt feminine, attractive. Like, what the heck?

Was it really just because of her boss’s hold on her? For all she knew, it meant nothing to Noah.