C11: A March Made in Heaven

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Earlier, after old man Bowa had called and informed her that Ysabelle was already an employee of Derek, Amy had been beyond herself with joy.

She had been well aware of her husband’s intention to pair them up for the longest time.

Amy had always thought it was just his wishful thinking, but now that he had actually achieved his objective, she had no choice but to go along with him.

She cared for Ysabelle like she did for her own children and wanted nothing but happiness for her.

No sooner had old man Bowa hung up than she had called her youngest daughter, Yvette, to help her come up with a new wardrobe and look for Ysabelle.

Yvette had been just as ecstatic as her mother at the news. She was the one who had suggested they ask Derek for help.

His immediate younger sister, Violet, owned Studio 21, a high-end fashion boutique.

It wasn’t a place you could just walk into and do your shopping. One had to make an appointment weeks in advance, and the prices of their clothes cost a pretty penny.

It was no surprise, since the clothes were all high couture and sold off the shelves like hotcakes.

Moreover, one needed to be a member to have the privilege of shopping there.

When Amy had called Derek, she had simply wanted him to do them the favor of introducing them.

At most, the mother and daughter pair had thought they would only manage to get one or two items from there. Never had they imagined Derek would offer to foot the entire bill once he heard they were doing it for Ysabelle.

“Are you sure?” Amy had asked, thinking she must have misheard him.

Sitting in his study, working on some papers with the phone to his ear, Derek had smiled and nodded. “Yes.”

“Oh, okay then. I will have to thank you on her behalf.”

Before he hung up, he called a few minutes later and told her that someone from Studio 21 would be coming over.

An hour later, a luxurious car pulled up outside their home. Three pretty women dressed in black pencil skirts, white silky blouses, and multicolored scarves around their necks, which was the uniform for Studio 21, stepped out of the car.

Each was carrying a dozen-plus shopping bags.

It took them at least five trips each to carry everything in.

Looking at the bags and price tags, Yvette and Amy were left stupefied.

It seemed like they had brought over the whole store.

Each outfit came with its own pair of shoes, handbag, and accessories. They had also brought high-end makeup and bath products.

As the two stood staring at the three dozen-plus bags laid out on the bed, Amy’s phone rang.

“Aunt Amy. Everything okay?”

Amy could only nod her head, as if he could see her.

“That’s good then. Do not hesitate to let the ladies know if there is anything more you need.”

“…”

Knowing Ysabelle’s character all too well, the two had immediately cut the price tags off the clothes and packed them into the suitcases. At least this way, she wouldn’t doubt their story when they told her they were hand-me-downs.

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In the present...

Ysabelle laughed. She wasn’t offended at all. It was no secret her wardrobe was no different from that of a beggar.

The only difference was that her clothes were washed and ironed regularly.

Amy tapped on the suitcase and took in what Ysabelle was dressed in. The tie-dye peasant dress had lost its color a long time ago and had been patched up in one too many places.

The headwrap on her head had Amy shaking her head sadly. She didn’t understand how Vernon had failed to value the beauty before her.

It doesn’t matter anymore, she thought. At least now she has Sir Derek. I believe he will love and cherish her the most.

Ysabelle shifted uneasily under her scrutiny.

“You, my dear, are a lost cause, but I will try my best.”

Ysabelle looked at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You will see,” she said, smiling to herself.

“Oh.”

“Sit,” Amy commanded and pushed her down onto the stool by the beige vanity.

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Amy had raised three girls who loved fashion as much as any girl out there, so how could she not be up to the task of giving the girl a whole new look?

A good two hours later…

Amy came out.

Derek and her husband were immersed in a board game of mancala while enjoying cool drinks of munkoyo.

“Derek.”

Derek looked up from the game. “Aunt Amy.”

“Please help me carry the gift for Grace. It’s quite heavy.”

“Sure, Aunt Amy.”

Amy and Shawn treated Derek like any other normal person and not as the revered CEO of Lupasha Holdings.

It would have made many jaws drop to the floor if they ever heard Amy ordering him about and him diligently following her orders.

Derek stood up to go to the house just as Ysabelle stepped out.

Derek halted mid-stride.

She wore a high-waisted, figure-hugging floral white skirt. She had paired the ankle-length pencil skirt with a ruffled off-the-shoulder top.

In her hands, she held a mini handbag that matched her low-heel peep-toe sandals.

The hair that had earlier been hidden beneath the headwrap fell to her shoulders in soft curls.

Light makeup highlighted her facial features.

Amy winked at her husband. If her husband, the wisest person she knew, was aiming to pair the two young ones together, she too would do her part.

She turned to look at the transformed Ysabelle and smiled, proud of her handiwork.

Her daughters may have been the preacher’s kids, but they knew a thing or two about fashion.

“Ysabelle, you sure clean up well,” old man Bowa said, nodding his head in approval. He stood up and looked at the young man beside him. “Derek, what do you think?”

Ysabelle stole a look at Derek from under her long dark lashes as her hand tightened around the strap of her bag.

For some reason, she was anxious to hear his approval.

Derek rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple moving up and down.

“She looks amazing.”

The corners of Ysabelle’s mouth curved into a shy smile, but she dared not look up.

“She does, doesn’t she?” the old man echoed with a soft chuckle.

“I told her so. See, even Derek thinks so,” Amy laughed. “Come, Derek, come help me with the bags and the box.”

Derek walked toward the two ladies, his appreciative gaze sweeping over Ysabelle. They might as well have been the only two people there.

“You look lovely.” His voice was soft, like a caress.

Ysabelle looked up. A rush of warmth flowed through her veins when she met the heat of his appreciative gaze.

Heat crept up in her cheeks and her heart skipped a beat, taking her by surprise, especially when she found herself wishing the moment could last forever.

But…

A cynical voice at the back of her mind snapped her back to reality.

She lowered her head to conceal the conflicting emotions in her eyes.

How could she forget her identity?

She was a married woman.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Wait,” Amy said, stepping to the side.

“Aunt, is there something else?” Derek asked, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from Ysabelle.

“Yes!” Amy clapped her hands excitedly. “Why don’t we take a picture to remember this moment?”

“Sounds like a good idea,” old man Bowa nodded in agreement. “What do you think, Derek?”

Derek turned to look at Ysabelle, whose head was still lowered as she nervously fidgeted with the straps of her bag.

“Do you mind?” he drawled.

Ysabelle shook her head.

“Derek, you don’t mind if I use your phone, do you?”

“No.” He handed Amy his phone.

Amy spent the next ten minutes taking photos of Ysabelle, having found the perfect spot in her rose garden.

At first, Ysabelle had been quite rigid, but with Amy and old man Bowa’s encouragement, she let loose.

“Derek, why don’t you join her?” old man Bowa asked.

“Yes, son. Go join her and I will take a couple of pictures of you two,” Amy echoed her husband. “Why don’t you take the first one on the swing?”

Standing to the side with his hands thrust deep in his pockets, watching the photoshoot, Derek cocked a brow at the elderly couple.

They looked at him innocently.

What are these two up to? he mused. He would have to be a fool not to realize they had intentionally placed the girl by his side.

“Go on,” Amy urged.

Too amused to call them out, he nodded and stalked toward Ysabelle, who was seated on the swing.

Ysabelle kept her gaze lowered and nervously fiddled with her fingers.

Derek stopped in front of the woman who was as nervous as a cornered rabbit.

He cleared his throat.

Ysabelle looked up, gnawing the corner of her bottom lip. The look in her eyes was a mixture of innocence, nervousness, and seduction.

The seductive gesture had Derek biting back a curse.

“If you are not comfortable with this…” he began, his eyes locked on her lips. Though he was saying one thing, he had entirely other thoughts on his mind.

Like ravishing her luscious lips.

“It’s fine,” she cut him off before he could finish his sentence and scooted over.

Derek took a seat in the space beside her.

The swing, which could accommodate three adults and had seemed large earlier, suddenly shrank in size.

“Are you two ready? And could you try to look like you are having fun?”

The two chuckled at Amy’s remark, then looked at each other.

It was the perfect shot Amy needed.

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“Here.”

Derek passed his bank card to Ysabelle.

They were at the shopping mall, parked right in front of the hyper supermarket.

“The password is 0799.”

Ysabelle stared at the card in her hands in a daze.

She had been married to Vernon for almost seven years, yet not once had he ever given her his bank card.

Let alone his money. All along, she had always fended for herself.

She brushed thoughts of Vernon aside and focused on Derek’s earlier statement.

0799?

Why did the password sound awfully familiar?

If she put 19 in front of 07, wouldn’t that be her birthday?

But it couldn’t be, right?

She looked from the card to Derek’s handsome face, her brow furrowed.

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