~Chapter 3~

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“Isabelle, tonight there’s a fashion show for Nicolas Stone and I want you to be there on the red carpet every step of the way. Do you have a date or do you need me to call someone?” My dad asked when I walked into work Friday morning. The boys weren’t coming today so I had a whole day to deal with my father bombarding me with questions and making me do things.

            “I don’t need a date, dad. I can go by myself,” I muttered, sitting at my desk and straightening my papers to make it look like I was busy doing something so he would go away.

            “Of course you need a date. I can’t have my beautiful daughter going to a Nicolas Stone red carpet without a date. I’ll have Derek call someone for you. Now get to work,” he said, leaving my office and closing the door behind him.

            I groaned and began working on my summer set. I had a feeling today was going to be a very long day.

“This looks absolutely stunning on you, Isabelle!” My friend/fashion expertise, Brittney enthused, admiring me in my dress. The dress I decided to wear for the red carpet was one I designed myself a few years ago. It was red and elegant, the bottom falling on the floor, showing off my long legs. The outfit was completed with two inch clear heels and a bedazzled clutch.

            “Thank you. I just hope Derek doesn’t end up getting me a trashy date and ruining the whole thing,” I murmured, stepping off the pedestal and making my way to the makeup table so Brittney could do my hair and makeup.

            “Knowing Derek, he’ll probably get a hobo off the street just to make fun of you,” Brittney replied, brushing through my hair. She was right. Since me and Derek were best friends, he knew I would never fire him from being my assistant and he could do whatever he wanted. He’s always doing things to get me angry, but somehow I always find it in me to forgive him.

            “Let’s pray that he doesn’t.”

I took a deep breath before stepping into the limo, readying myself for who Derek had set me up with. I had planned in my head the Derek got a really hot male model because he was just a great friend, but I knew that that was never going to happen.

            When I looked at who was sitting in the limo, I was pleasantly surprised. There was a hot boy sitting there, waiting for me. He had the physique of a male model and blonde hair gelled up. He was wearing a classy suit and had the slightest bit of facial hair. I have to remind my dad to give Derek a raise...

            “Nice to meet you, I’m Francis.” There was the problem. Of course there had to be a problem! It was Derek we were talking about here. Francis had a horrible French accent completed with a super high voice. It was literally like a mouse squeak coming from a lion.

            “Isabelle,” I said, closing the limousine door behind me as I sat down and buckled my seatbelt.

            “It’s nice to meet you Isabelle. Tu est très belle,” he said, grabbing my hand and kissing it. Oh my god, please make this end.

Once we got to the red carpet, cameras were immediately covering me and Francis, their flashes going crazy. Interviewers were shouting at me, trying to get me to tell them who this “mystery man” was and if my father approved of him.

            “Oh no, no, no. We are just friends. Her assistant actually set me up with her to come tonight. But I hope I will be able to see this beautiful girl again,” I heard Francis say behind me.

            I groaned and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the interviewers. “You never talk to those people, got it?” I mumbled to him, smiling at the cameras along the way.

            “But they were asking me questions,” Francis said, confusedly.

            “You don’t answer them.”

            I tried to hide my annoyance as I posed with him for the cameras. At least behind his voice he was drop dead gorgeous so it would make me look good.

            “Francis Bourgios! What does it feel like to be in New York for the first time?” An interviewer yelled. My eyes immediately went to the person that yelled that. It was an interviewer from some stupid French television network.

            “My people are calling!” Francis cheered, running over to the French interviewer. I guess that was the end of that date. To be honest, I wasn’t too disappointed about it. I just hoped they wouldn’t dedicate a whole magazine to it.

            “Looks like that worked out really well,” a familiar voice murmured beside me. I turned to see Mike Fuentes smiling at all of the cameras with the rest of his band members trailing behind.

            “What the hell are you doing here?” I whispered to him, making sure not to stand too close so people wouldn’t think we were together.

            “Your dad invited us. Said it was a good way to get our name spread around more,” Mike answered with a shrug. “I don’t think I’ll ever go to one of these again. Not really my forte.”

            I snorted. “That’s a good attitude for a guy in a band. You know, you kind of signed up for this when you decided to be in a band, anyways.”

            “You know, you honestly don’t understand anything unless it’s worth a million dollars. Do more research,” he shot before going to find his band members. What the hell was with this guy?

            “Oh yes, this is my beautiful girlfriend, Isabella!” Francis suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me over to the other French people. “She is very glad to be paired with a fine French model like myself.”

            I stared at him in surprise, not exactly sure what I was supposed to be doing in a situation like this. “I’m not actually-”

            “Bella, you are so silly!” Francis tightened his grip around me to the point where it was getting uncomfortable, and more cameras started crowding around us.

            “When did you start dating?”

            “Is this true, or are you doing it for the publicity?”

            I panicked, looking around everywhere to find means of escaping. Francis’ grip on me was not loosening as he gladly answered all of the questions. I felt so small, and I couldn’t do anything for once in my life.

            Suddenly I felt someone grab my hand and I was pulled out of the crowd. I looked at the hand that was holding mine, and it was covered with tattoos.

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