Chapter 6
Sienna stood in front of the mirror, frowning at the borrowed dress. It was a little too tight, the fabric a little too rough, and the color, somewhere between faded peach and regret did nothing for her complexion. But it was the only option, and she was out of choices.
She yanked at the hem, muttering under her breath. “I look like a tragic bridesmaid.”
“You look fine,” Rafa said from the doorway, arms crossed. “Stop fidgeting. You’re going to rip it, and then I’ll have to explain to my neighbor why their donation to the cause of ‘Stranded City Girl’ was wasted.”
Sienna turned, narrowing her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry, do you expect me to be grateful? Because I’d rather look like a mess in my own clothes than a disaster in someone else’s.”
“Well, your own clothes got stolen, and unless you plan on walking around in that ragged t-shirt for another week, I’d suggest you embrace the charity.”
Sienna let out an exasperated sigh. “You are insufferable.”
Rafa smirked. “And yet, here you are, still in my shop.”
“Temporarily.”
“Of course.”
Sienna ignored him and turned back to the mirror, smoothing down the fabric as if sheer willpower could make it look more expensive.
“So, what’s the plan?” Rafa asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“The plan?” Sienna repeated, arching a brow. “The plan is to find a job so I can get out of here and never have to wear second hand clothing again.”
“Ah, a noble goal,” Rafa said. “And what exactly are you qualified to do? Besides spending money and throwing tantrums?”
“Very funny,” she deadpanned. “I have skills.”
“Such as?”
Sienna hesitated. She had never actually needed a job before. Her world had been full of luxury, personal assistants, and an endless line of people who made sure she never had to lift a finger. But admitting that to Rafa? Never.
“I am excellent at organizing events, managing people, and…”
“Bossing people around?”
“Delegating,” she corrected, glaring at him. “I also have impeccable taste.”
“Ah, of course. A necessary skill in the brutal job market.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Rafa chuckled. “Alright then, Miss Corporate Queen. Let’s see how well your skills hold up in the real world.”
Sienna crossed her arms. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Rafa pushed off the doorframe, “that I know someone looking for help. It’s not exactly high-end, but it’s work.” Sienna hesitated. Accepting a job through Rafa felt dangerously close to accepting his help, and she had sworn she wouldn’t owe him anything. But…
