Chapter 18 - Emily

**EMILY**

Emily’s heart was pounding in her chest when there was another knock on the cabin door. She put both hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. Who could it be? Suddenly, she heard a soft female voice.
“Emily?” the voice asked softly. “Emily, are you in there?”
A woman? Emily was confused that the attacker had a female accomplice; she hadn’t expected that. But the stranger knew her name. But who else but Alexander Fitzpatrick knew her name?
“Emily, I’m your bodyguard and I’m here to make sure you’re okay. Mr. Fitzpatrick is concerned because you’ve been gone so long.”
“Alexander?” Emily whispered, her voice shaking. “Bodyguard? Mine?”
It sounded so absurd that Emily had to laugh, but it got stuck in her throat. Since when did she have a bodyguard? She was just a minor employee, hardly worth mentioning.
“Yes, I’m responsible for Mr. Fitzpatrick’s female companions, to be on hand in situations like this.”
It took Emily a moment to process this information. When it dawned on her, her face flushed. She hastily opened the cabin door and stepped out. Of course, as the companion of a billionaire like Alexander Fitzpatrick, personal protection was essential. Attackers could focus on his new girlfriend to get to him. And, of course, she needed a female bodyguard - after all, no male bodyguard could follow her into the ladies’ room.
Suddenly, her new role felt even more real.
“I’m... well... I’m fine,” Emily managed to say, but her voice was still shaking, which embarrassed her to no end. She felt weak, fragile - anything but the confident woman she wanted to be. The memory of the attack made her shoulders shake again. While her boss had kept his cool and dodged the knife attack with impressive skill, she had just stood there in shock, paralyzed, wanting to run away in a fit of panic. And that’s exactly what she had done in the end - she had fled while he had almost routinely jumped up and sidestepped, missing the steak knife by a hair’s breadth. It was as if she had become a bystander to her own helplessness. She had watched, unable to act, while he had taken control of the situation as a matter of course. She felt hot with shame as she thought about the impression that must have made on him. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. How could she have appeared so weak?
“Perhaps it would be a good idea if you rinsed your mouth,” the bodyguard suggested gently, stepping over to a small cupboard. She opened one side of the cabinet and took out a small bottle of mouthwash and handed it to Emily. “Here you go,” she said friendly, smiling encouragingly. Emily stared at the bottle and couldn’t believe that such amenities were available in the toilets. But then she remembered where she was - in the realm of the super-rich - where mouthwash was standard. Here, everything was designed to make you look perfect on the outside, even after a knife attack. It was absurd, but somehow logical. She took the bottle with slightly shaking hands. “Thank you,” she murmured, trying not to think too much about how ridiculous she felt at the moment.
The bodyguard looked at her intently and nodded slightly at Emily’s face. “And the makeup could use a little touch up as well,” she recommended as a precaution.
Emily looked helplessly into the mirror and was shocked by her own reflection. She looked pale and tired. But what could she do about it? The beautician had done her makeup, but she hadn’t given her any products to take home. She shrugged in embarrassment. “I... have nothing with me to reapply my makeup,” she finally confessed, wishing that the earth would open up and swallow her. Again and again she realized in these moments that she did not belong in this world.
“No lipstick?” The bodyguard asked in surprise, wrinkling his forehead. Emily laughed nervously and shrugged her shoulders. “No, I was dragged straight from the gym to a beauty salon. I didn’t have time to grab anything.”
The bodyguard looked at her incredulously for a moment. Emily bit her lip as she realized how absurd this must sound. The explanation was inadequate, but it was all she could say. She would never admit that she wore almost no makeup in her private life, usually just a little lip gloss. No one would believe her anyway, not even the woman in front of her. No wonder, anyone who was in the limelight with Alexander Fitzpatrick always had makeup on to look perfect in any situation. Emily had no idea if she was allowed to reveal that she had been booked for this role by chance and very spontaneously. It was quite possible that the security people thought she was the billionaire’s real girlfriend.
Sighing, she took the mouthwash, wiped away the worst of the makeup with a cloth, and bit her lips a few times to stimulate the blood flow. “That’ll have to do,” she finally said, turning to the bodyguard.
Now it was the woman’s turn to sigh. She shook her head and said, more to herself, “Don’t worry, we’ll fix it.” She turned back to the cupboard and looked through it. “Everything you need is always here,” she explained, pulling out a small drawer and a selection of makeup products. “Here, see?” She held up a lipstick triumphantly. “Nothing a little powder and lipstick can’t fix.”
Emily couldn’t help but smile a little. It was absurd to worry about her appearance at a moment like this, but in this world, it seemed to be part of the package. Curious, she approached the side cabinet and stared in amazement at the small but sophisticated selection of lipsticks, powders, and other cosmetics.
“Unbelievable!” she whispered. She really hadn’t expected to find such things in a bathroom. A warm feeling ran through her - almost as if this moment could banish her insecurities for a brief moment. Maybe, just maybe, she could get used to this luxurious life after all. The idea of always looking perfect without having to lift a finger had a certain appeal.
Emily picked up one of the lipsticks and let the sleek, shiny case slide through her fingers. She looked at her own reflection, framed by the luxurious lighting of the room. A brief thought flashed through her mind: *How different everything is here.* She thought of the public restrooms she’d known - cramped stalls, wobbly doors, scratchy paper towels, and if you were unlucky, no soap. By comparison, this room was a realm of cleanliness and comfort. The stalls were so spacious she could almost get lost, and everything was spotlessly clean. There was no smell of harsh cleaning chemicals, but rather a subtle, expensive perfume that permeated the entire room. She suddenly realized that even the fixtures were luxurious. They looked like they were made of polished gold, and the water flowed so softly and warmly that one might think it was meant for a spa. It was strangely soothing. In this environment, she could almost forget what had happened. She sighed softly as she applied her lipstick and some powder. *Maybe it’s not so hard to survive in this world*, she thought. *You just have to know how to deal with all the luxury.*
The bodyguard smiled contentedly as Emily turned to her. “Wonderful, you look perfect. Then let’s get back to Mr. Fitzpatrick. I’m sure he’s waiting impatiently.”
Suddenly, Emily felt the pressure in her stomach again. How was she going to face Alexander Fitzpatrick? Could she even look him in the eye after her terrible performance?