As soon as Damien walked away from me, Rose approached hostile and took a seat across from me in the gazebo, our eyes locking in a tense standoff. Her expression was far from friendly, but I had a plan to turn this encounter in my favor.
Rose was striking—a tall, beautiful Dutch-Chinese girl with an intelligence that could have propelled her to the top of any field she chose. It was a mystery why she had devoted herself to trying to please Damien when he barely glanced in her direction. In the last life, I wondered if she ended up staying miserable, trapped in the same cycle of unrequited affection as I did.
"You two sure got comfortable even though you've literally never spoken before. Why are you already acting like his boyfriend?" she asked, her tone dripping with skepticism.
"I know I've never spoken to him before, but when he asked me out, I just couldn't say no. He's so charming, after all," I replied with a smile, hoping she would buy the lie.
"What's that supposed to mean? He's not capable of being nice because of his profession!" Rose argued, clearly defensive.
Poor girl. She was too young to realize that a guy who wants to be nice will be without prompting. "He's really nice when we talk. I know I've got my shortcomings, and he should probably like someone way more refined than I am, so I've been trying to act like you. And the pattern on your uniform..."
Her eyes widened at the unexpected compliment. I could tell she was more accustomed to flattery than ridicule, which would make this easier. "What is it? Why did you stop talking?"
"I just thought the pattern was very subtle and sophisticated. It's definitely an underappreciated style not many can pull off as their personal style. I can realistically see you on the Paris runways in the future and...oh, am I overstepping? I didn't mean to—"
"N-no, you have an eye for detail," she said, pulling out a handheld fan and fanning herself as a blush crept across her cheeks. "This pattern is one I drew myself, so don't bother looking for it in any stores."
Time to crank up the charm. I leaned in, excitement in my eyes as if I'd discovered gold. "So have you ever thought of running a fashion house? I've seen what you let your friends wear sometimes, and an entire collection would basically solidify your name in the fashion world."
"You... paid attention to my style?" she gasped, clearly flattered.
Not really. I just remembered that her uniform always looked the best, and she consistently won 'best dressed' at work events. I recalled a time when she had designed something for Eli, only for him to ruin it on a date with Debbie before I could even see it on him.
"Yeah! Everyone does. You know what people say about you behind your back? You're pretty, well-dressed, smart, talented, and rich. You basically have it all except for..." I trailed off, letting the suspense linger.
"For what?" She held my gaze, curious.
"Your taste in men. Why waste your talent in the underworld as a no-name making replicas when it should be on the runway?" I asked, remembering how she had been blacklisted in the last life for just that.
"I'd never even touched a replica before!" Rose exclaimed.
"People already think you do because why else would you chase after an Anderson? A good knockoff with your skills is reasonable to think of. Birds of a feather and all," I said, pushing.
"Have I been looking—"
"Pathetic? Yes," I replied bluntly.
Rose's expression shifted as she began to think. Come on, girl! Give up on this guy and thrive! You're in high school; how could you even consider tying yourself to this jerk? If I were your father, I'd smack you around a bit until you understood your own talent! "I acknowledge your sharp eye, but I must say this! Don't let Damien get caught up in any scandals!"
"I'm a Spencer; that's half my job," I said with a grin.
"So you don't just want his money or status?" she pressed.
"I already have twice the money and status as the sole heir of the Spencer family. What would I need to take his for?"
"You're nothing like your sister said you were," Rose remarked, giving me a once-over. "I thought you were some talentless useless guy, but you've clearly been holding something back. Why?"
"Between us two, I'm sick and tired of neglecting my talents and family for someone else. I'm also tired of being humble because what does that get me? Nothing at all! Why do I have to hide myself to let someone else feel better or more important? Shouldn't we shine together? If I wasn't meant for greatness, why would I be born into the family I am? I'm Jack Spencer! Who the fuck is Elijah Roth or anyone for me to dim my own light?" I explained, my voice gaining intensity.
Rose's hostility melted away as she nodded along, clearly moved. "You're so right! I'm Rose Jiang! I can't let my name be tarnished like this! I don't know what came over me."
"It wasn't you. You let those miserable friends of yours delude you into forcing something onto a guy just so they can make fun of you behind your back. The reality is that you're so pretty that you should let men chase you, not the other way around," I advised, feeling a sense of victory.
"Hm, I get it now! You've perfectly set the stage to win my favor, and it's worked!"
"That wasn't—"
"In turn, I'll let you in on something. You should be really careful around your sister Deborah. That girl is scary, and she's out to get you." Rose stood up, a newfound confidence in her posture. "You've gotten my blessing! I'm leaving!"
So my sister still wanted to be the sole heir and claim Eli for herself. The problem was that Dad would never let her have her way now that she'd pissed him off. I had to solidify my spot to prevent Dad from changing his mind again. Luckily, I knew that Rose was susceptible to compliments, making it easy to sway her thoughts.
I felt a surge of satisfaction for saving an innocent woman. Hopefully, she would leave me and Damien alone, allowing me to focus on repairing my already damaged reputation at school.
"You little shit, you actually did it," Damien said, emerging from behind the bushes and handing me a cup of hot tea. Jasmine? How did he know I liked that? He must have looked me up himself.
"Yeah, it wasn't all that hard to do," I replied nonchalantly.
"It doesn't even look like you really need me," Damien observed. "So why don't you be honest and let me know the real reasons you approached me?"
"A shield—"
"Again, you chased that Eli kid away just fine, so why do you need me? I'd prefer an honest partnership." His gaze bore into mine, unwavering and intense.
"I'll tell you, but not here where I can be overheard. Just know that it's all for a very good reason," I said in a low voice. "Just hold up your end of the deal."
"I have to do so much, and you just had to do one thing. You've got a knack for making deals where you can take advantage of people," Damien retorted.
"I'm stealing information and giving it to you for free. I'm not only breaking the rules for you; I'm losing profit. You just have to make money and be a bare minimum boyfriend. How am I not doing more than you?" I rolled my eyes.
"You always have something to say, don't you?" Damien hissed, frustration etching his features.
"You're just ten years too late to keep up with me," I said, a smirk creeping onto my face.
"Shameless. I guess I don't have to feel bad when I take advantage of you."
"You won't get the chance. I'm not like everyone else," I shot back. "But if you need something, don't hesitate to ask."
"Fine then. I need you to come over and convince my parents that I can take over," Damien stated.
"You sure wasted no time. I'll do it," I replied, surprising even myself.
Damien looked shocked. "You're entirely too confident. You're not scared?"
"Why should I be? It's not like they'll try to kill me," I scoffed. Damien seemed to think his father was so tyrannical that he could move mountains, but the truth was that the man valued profit more than anything, just like my father. "I'm not scared, so you shouldn't be either."
"Who are you calling scared? Your talent is just captivating. No one has ever agreed to come over to my house before."
"Really?" I asked, taken aback. Did he not have any friends? Or could he not trust anyone enough to bring them home? "You can't bring home commoners, can you?"
"No one who doesn't come from old money," Damien corrected.
"Thought so," I replied, noting that ridiculous trend newly wealthy people followed—cutting off contact with anyone below them. "Can't get higher than a Spencer. You actually listen to your dad really well; I can feel the respect you have for him. Who knew that under that tough exterior was a dutiful son?"
Damien blushed hard, clearly flustered. "Y-you! I'll punch you if you read me without permission!"
"I thought this was an honest partnership!" I shot back.
"Shut up!" Damien fumed, and I laughed.
"I already told you that you can't keep up, kid."
"Why are you calling me 'kid'? You looking down on me?"
"No. I just feel really arrogant," I admitted, contemplating why I felt this way.
"Why?" he pressed, his eyes narrowing.
Because... I didn't know what would happen next, having changed so much already. All I had was reference material and my wits. "I guess that's just me," I finally replied, a self-satisfied grin spreading across my face.