I'm so charming, there are always men who love me

Chapter 6

The California sun was dazzlingly hot in the late afternoon, and Tony Stark was getting more and more upset as he looked at the two goofy bodyguards behind Margaret.

One of the two guys looked menacing and out of place, the other stoic and bold, but both were suited and booted, with shiny leather shoes, handsome and fit and imposing.

It was almost like a male model out on the street, stealing the show.

The always flirtatious arms dealer is very dissatisfied, he is obviously the playwright bear.

Margaret was looking at the arms dealer with his big caramel eyes, who seemed to have "self-centered" written in every cell of his body, and there could not be a more flamboyant playboy in the world.

But what was special was that even though he acted like an egomaniac, he was charming.

That's strange.

At the moment the charming billionaire was frowning in disgust, "Gee, I sure hate bodyguards."

It was well known that the CEO of Stark Industries had always been sick of personal bodyguards, and as the number one arms supplier to the U.S. military, his security was naturally not a trivial matter, but his mansion on Malibu Beach did not have a single bodyguard, relying on intelligent butlers to maintain security.

"I think it's possible you just hate being surrounded by a bunch of big, tall men who are easily over six feet tall, don't you?" Margaret smiled at him, her voice soft and charming.

Another disliked mascara man: one of these days you're going to fall to your knees under my height-enhancing insoles, oh no, suit pants.

For some reason, Tony suddenly thought of that audition, even when she got hysterical, her voice was still this soft, and her seawater-like blue eyes, whether frenzied or deep, seemed to be able to easily set off shocking waves.

What the hell, did he fall in love with her at first sight? Oh man, that's a disgusting word.

Brian Lord showed up just in time to break the ice, "Margo, you need to attend a charity gala tonight, hosted by none other than Mr. Stark."

"What a sudden schedule." Margaret looked to her agent.

CAA had offered her an upscale apartment, and in fact Brian Lord had initially tried to get Margaret into the Beverly mansion that had been empty in his name for so long, but had been turned down by Margo.

She apparently didn't like being taken care of too much.

And with moving into a mansion, the expenses would obviously be a lot bigger, or at least only one bodyguard didn't seem quite enough.

You know in Hollywood, celebrity bodyguard income is very substantial, with a daily commission of 1,000 to 20,000 U.S. dollars of high pay, and this cost represents, bodyguard only provide personal security protection, charges with the difficulty of the security of the boat high.

Many A-list in the bodyguard on the cost of more than a million, and this is only a year's cost, even if it does not involve personal protection, just guarding the residence, in order to prevent the paparazzi secretly photographed, but also cost tens of thousands of dollars a month.

Plus not every bodyguard looks as eye-catching as Logan, right?

The only income she's currently getting, for the time being, is a paycheck for The Pianist of the Sea and a down payment when she signed on with The Story of Adele Hugo, which obviously won't be enough to last too long.

Balancing income and expenses is not too easy a task, without talking about other things, just security, the standard for a Hollywood star's security force is a bulletproof car, a driver who is good at shaking off paparazzi, and three bodyguards.

If a star is away on a shoot and not at home, installing a security system for the house or adding human security can cost a thousand dollars a day.

By the way, if you are being stalked and harassed, $20,000 a month will also have to be spent on the technical job of keeping people out.

She also needs to pay for her PR spokesperson and assistant, as well as the stylist and makeup artist she'll be hiring for the dinner tonight.

Margaret was helpless, who would have thought she would one day have a headache over money.

The least moneyed eyelash-slinger was looking at her as if he thought she would refuse to attend tonight's party, "Margaret, oh no, Margot, as a CAA artist, you can't refuse to serve as a stockholder's chaperone."

"Shareholder? Who?" Margaret ignored his self-consciousness in calling her Margot.

Tony Stark had an arrogant little bitchy look on his face, "I picked up some CAA shares when I was buying cheeseburgers three days ago."

After saying that he pulled open the door of the silver-red sports car and gestured for Margaret to get in, spirited and debonair, but with a unique charm that was extraordinarily appealing.

On the other hand, the CAA Managing Partner, who was equated with a greasy burger: suddenly felt that rich people can be really annoying.

Margaret ignores his movements and turns to her bulletproof nanny car.

Logan pulled the door open for her just in time, though the expression on his face still looked menacing.

Grant Ward, on the other hand, who hadn't snagged the job, was thinking about how he was going to please his current top boss; he didn't want to be fired within a few days and return to S.H.I.E.L.D. dusty from a failed mission.

Margaret finally looked back at the billionaire before getting into her car, "See you tonight, Mr. Stark."

Seconds later, Tony Stark watched the bulletproof nanny van that was headed away, remaining in place to face off with Brian Lord.

And while his million-dollar silver and red sports car remained open, the girl ran away.

------------------------------------------

This upscale condo isn't too large, but the decor is really nice and every detail shows superior taste.

Margaret didn't like having other people in the house, so Grant Ward scheduled the housekeeping staff to work when Margaret was out.

The brunette was leaning back in her chair, letting the makeup artist apply her makeup.

"Logan, you seem to reek of cigars." She opened her mouth to talk to Logan who was not far away.

The very out of touch and gruff Wolverine, who was barely in good graces with his employer, replied, "I'm a heavy drinker with a cigarette habit."

Margaret was a bit surprised, "But you don't seem to be in any long-term danger from tobacco & alcohol."

He was unusually sharp and possessed the perception of a wild beast.

Logan obviously can't explain to her that his own self-healing ability allows him to indulge in perpetual enjoyment without being affected by tobacco or alcohol.

But he obviously won't be able to give up either of those two bad habits either, "Anyway, they don't affect my work."

Margaret shrugged her shoulders, "Of course, you're incredibly responsive."

She had seen the brass necklace that had fallen out of his collar, perhaps he had been in the military?

But Margaret didn't like to pry too much into other people's privacy and didn't ask.

Thinking that CAA had rented a bachelor pad nearby for Logan, she spoke up, "You can use the rest of the day to stock up on the essentials, I won't be needing a watch here for a while."

She was currently just a newcomer to the movie scene who was getting attention, and didn't need Logan to be on permanent watch until the two movies were released.

Before leaving Logan frowned at Grant Ward who was talking to his stylist, he didn't trust the assistant very much and the other man's presence was very suspicious.

Even though Ward was very good at his job, shrewd, competent and well-traveled.

But Logan does have some things he needs to take care of, and living in Los Angeles, he needs to switch to a more secure fake ID.

What Wolverine doesn't realize is that his trip to get a fake ID runs into some decent mutant organization, and of course, he does end up with a legal ID that is as good as a fake one.

It wasn't too long before the makeup artist, Orvor, finished Margaret's entire look - the

Unlike other makeup artists who tend to overdo it in order to look perfect in front of the camera, Margaret's makeup was moisturized, translucent, and glowing, and her delicate features were breathtaking without much retouching.

"The gown, where's the gown?" Stylist Josena's voice lifted.

The tall and proud Grant Ward heard the voice and came over holding up the gown.

"Grant, it's time for the girls to change next." Josena said politely, seeming to forget that he was a man as well.

All in all, Grant Ward was hustled out of the room while the female staff was beginning to dress Margaret.

The gown was breathtakingly beautiful, a dark red classic gown of incredible elegance, Margaret looked like a blood rose growing in the darkness, out of this world with a charisma that could stun you every moment of the day.

Agent Ward suddenly felt that this undercover mission was not bad.

When everything was finally ready, Margaret learned from Brian Lord that that Mr. Stark's car had just arrived downstairs.

As a female companion, she of course had to arrive at the dinner with Tony Stark.

Taking the elevator down from her apartment, Margaret was careful to avoid any wrinkles in her gown; she didn't want to make a big joke out of her first appearance.

The hundred billion dollar arms dealer had traded in his sports car for a flashy gold and red color scheme.

There is really no such word as understatement in his world.

Tony Stark, on the other hand, was thinking that he was afraid that he had seen one of the most beautiful roses in the world, and that even if the stems of the flowers had spikes standing up on them, and he was going to be stabbed through the chest, he would have to take her in his arms to do it.

He was Tony Stark.

And Margaret looked at him and said with sudden ease, "Mr. Stark, perhaps you're just taking this as a joke, but I still have to warn-"

"I am not worthy of your favor."

Her tone was light, but hid a certain sharp, heavy self-loathing, "I am not pure, much less naïve, and all the men I have ever been associated with have come to an untimely end."

She is in the court full of intrigue, incest, darkness, adultery, the forbidden flower, no one can save her, love can not, hate is too light.