The Arrangement: It Led Me To Love

Chapter 9 - Laurene's POV

^^ Laurene's work outfit ❤️

I awake to soft sheets and morning light that trickles in through the blinds. Wishing to shed myself of the remaining glimpses of my dream, my eyes are still shut as I soak in the warmth of my covers before letting my blue eyes see the sun's rays. From the carousel of random ideas of my dream comes some order - a subtle awareness of who I am under the flow of thoughts with their loose connections to my waking life. After a few moments more, I begin to analyse them in a lazy way, perhaps these ideas are meant to be kept. Some are composed as if from a book I once read, some are just silly. In another moment they are gone leaving no trace. If they are still in my head, there is no breadcrumb trail back to them.

My alarm is still humming the relaxing piano music to me, gradually waking me up in the nicest way at 6:30 in the morning. It is Monday today, and I am finally back into some stable routine of going to work. Weekends are boring and unsettling to me. I can never do just... nothing. I am always doing something to preoccupy my mind. If I have things planned then it is not so bad, but the drawbacks of living alone is that you can have a phone full of hundreds of contacts, but no one to be with you every step of the day. I love working because it banishes my inner demons that I am just a pretty face, and I feel accomplished.

Yesterday after my dance practice, I went to the spa to have a calm down and rejuvenate for the upcoming week. I also got my nails done again in pink and gold glitter. By the time I got home to relax, I decided that I did not want to take the week off work because I have no want to get to know Ellison. He is just a brainless jerk and I will do anything and everything I can to make sure that I will not end up marrying him.

Sighing, I pull myself up from the bed and walk into my en suite, where Louisa, my maid, has already run the bath and put in a sweet strawberry smelling bath bomb. I relax in the bath for fifteen minutes before Louisa politely knocks on my door telling me it is time to get ready. I slowly stand up, letting the water rain off my body and back into the bathtub. My favourite thing is to step out on to the mat and wrap a fluffy baby pink towel around me; there is something so calming and warming in being wrapped up like a little doll. Proceeding into my closet, I choose my outfit for the day. After ten minutes of umming and arring, I decide on my skin-tight-knee-length brown pencil skirt paired with a long-sleeved-equally-as-tight-black-top and black stilettos. This outfit has just the right amount of classy and sexiness about it. I also wear my mums rose necklace and a black Rolex watch. Today I choose to use one of my Louis Vuitton bags to stuff my things in.

Now that I am dressed, I walk downstairs to my kitchen where my cook Dylan has made me a delicious full English breakfast. I eat alone as usual and then rush back up stairs to deal with my hair and makeup. After spritzing my hair with my Dior hair spray, I comb through it then drag it all up on top of my head into an elegant ballerina bun. I am so going to regret that later, when my sensitive scalp starts to feel bruised. For work, I only do minimal makeup with a set of natural lashes, lip-gloss and a bit of powder to even my skin tone. When I am done I hastily brush my teeth and then quickly exit the house and into my Bentley, where Landon is patiently waiting for me.

You would think the road would be practically empty at seven thirty in the morning. Everyone should be asleep, right? Maybe except a few doctors and nurses, those wonderful folks the world cannot turn without. It is not though. My car joins a train of others; mostly other office workers with "vital" paper to push around for twelve or more hours. In summer, there is daylight - not so much for the rest of the year. We follow the red taillights by morning and night, not caring what the weather is. We form a river of tin and flesh, the best any one of us can hope for is a boring day; "interesting" means stress, lots of stress. This morning the sky has an unusual dash of orange cast onto the otherwise pale grey cloud, otherwise the day promises to be like every other. The road is washed black by recent rain and the sidewalks are almost empty. As my car hits the street, my mind moves rapidly into autopilot mode for the monotony of my upcoming day.