“I feel like the luckiest man to be taking you to the gala. You are beautiful on the outside, but it’s your inner beauty that makes the total package so desirable. That’s why other women see you as a threat.”
With that, I laughed.
“I’m telling you the truth, baby,” he said, smiling at me. “There will be women tonight who will wish they were you,” he said, coming closer to my face.
“Yes, Declan, they will, because I’ll be with you,” I corrected him.
He shook his head at me to correct me. “I love you, you know that?”
His eyes held the promise that he was my Prince Charming for the evening.
“Give me just one minute to say this to you. Any woman can put on make-up and clothes, Aria, but you can’t beautify an ugly soul.” He placed his arms around my waist; comforting and making me feel loved and treasured. “I’m glad your mine.” Declan moved his hand up to my chin and tilted my face up to look into his loving eyes as he spoke, “Now let’s go show everyone what a lucky man I am to be with the most glamorous girl in the world.”
With that, he lifted my arm and placed it through his; then he looked me over, top to bottom.
“Yes,” he said. “I’m a lucky, lucky man…”
…and as The Studio became an enchanted castle, Cinderella was whisked away on the arm of her Prince to experience a real fairy tale evening…
T The Only Thing That Looks Good on me is You – Bryan Adams
TT Black Sheep – Gin Wigmore
Hollywood came to the ocean for one night as Declan and I pulled up to The Studio in our stretch limousine. That was what Declan had decided to name his business—The Studio—as if it were the only one in existence, and to us it was.
For tonight, I felt like a movie star draped on the arm of my handsome escort. He just happened to be a world famous model—lucky me!
Photographers were everywhere, and for a brief time, I imagined what it must be like to have paparazzi constantly calling out your name and following each move you made. I couldn’t envision a daily life mimicking this. T
As Declan and I walked the red carpet, I could hear the news reporters, both local and national, calling his name. Their attempts to get his attention for a photo or a brief interview were relentless. Our little beach town was also descended upon by the various entertainment shows. It was invigorating and frightening. The air felt electrified, but Declan remained calm and composed. He was in his element. Several times, he leaned in to kiss my cheek or nuzzle my neck to give them a dazzling photo op of the two of us. One thing was for certain—if anyone, anywhere was unaware that Declan was in a relationship, after seeing his public displays tonight, there would be no doubt.
Upon entering The Studio, we were impressed with the fabulous job Katherine had performed with this evening’s details. Her hard work had made The Studio an East Coast showpiece. Declan and I immediately sought her out to commend her for her hard work. He made it a point to specifically tell her how impressed he was with every detail she handled, and I could tell that his praise meant a great deal to her. As we went to greet the other guests, he confided to me that he’d be showing Katherine his appreciation in a more practical way. I loved that about him; he was a kind and thoughtful man.
Blake Matthews approached us. He looked more the model this evening than a modeling agent, and he was escorting Marisol Franzi for the evening. As one would expect of a supermodel, she was stunning in an ice blue gown, which showed off her dark Latin looks. Much as I hated to admit it, she was simply breathtaking.
“This is an impressive gathering, Declan,” Blake praised. “The buzz I’ve heard is that you’ll do very well here. Some of the clients have been discussing plans for various photo sessions, which will involve a considerable cost savings to them with regard to travel and location. You should be very proud of the job you’ve done. You know how discriminating the clients can be. If you’ve gotten their approval, then it shows you had the right idea.”
Declan appreciated the comments of the man he’d worked with and admired for so long. He pulled me in close and beamed with pride as he too took in the beauty of the building.
“Thank you, Blake. The dream was mine, but I can’t take full credit for all of this,” he said, shifting his gaze to me. “The appeal of this building is the vision of Aria. She conceptualized all of this and shared it with me. Once I agreed, she carried through her vision. Describing to her what I was hoping for, she brought it to life. Her talent and ability is really what deserve your praise.” He gazed at me with love and pride.
“If that’s true, then you’re a talented woman,” Blake praised, “and beautiful as well.” He nodded his head and winked at me as he raised his glass.
Marisol openly smirked at the accolades I was receiving from both men. Blake noticed her change of demeanor and turned to her.
“Don’t you agree, Marisol?” he challenged her.
With all eyes turned on her, she turned on the false charm that she kept as handy as an accessory in her make-up kit.
She pasted her most sincere smile and softest look on her face as she fraudulently addressed me, “Yes, Aria. You’re quite the talent. You certainly can work a room,” she said as she swept her arm dramatically around the refurbished space. She then dripped her sarcasm disguised as a compliment as she slanted her eyes toward me and finished her statement, “It appears you can work the gentlemen as well.” She brought her drink to her synthetic lips in snide comment.
I was the amateur at this game as her subtle attack rendered me momentarily speechless. Declan, however, was quite skilled at this game.
His verbal sparring was immediate and sharp, “You’re correct in that, Marisol”—he turned lustful eyes toward me; Declan wanted to play—“and I love the way she works me…” he said in his most obscene and devilish tone.
His immoral glance made me blush to my toes, but he quickly turned a malevolent look on Marisol with which he challenged her. I’d never seen that look before, and it would have slayed her if it were a weapon.
Blake attempted to diffuse the situation.
“I do believe you’ve made this beautiful woman blush as deep as the color of her gown,” he laughed.
Marisol shot both men a contemptuous look and stomped away from the group in a huff.
Declan shrugged his shoulders at Blake.
“Do you think it was something I said?” he said with mock concern.
They laughed again, and I tried to hide a smile.
To say the evening’s celebration was overwhelming would have been an understatement. I was introduced to more people than I had known in my entire life, and I saw Declan the way that his peers saw him.
He was perfection in his Dolce & Gabbana Midnight Blue Tuxedo. He had graciously waited to see which gown I’d choose for the evening, being the perfect gentleman. The result was that I felt beautiful in my dress, and Declan looked the epitome of the perfect man. I caught myself gazing at him several times, finding it hard to believe that he was mine. In those moments I looked at him as ‘Declan Sinclair—male model’, and not Declan—Aria’s love.
Earlier in the day, as we were talking about this evening, I confessed my insecurity to him. I knew that there would be so many beautiful women there, and in that large of a group, I felt somewhat inadequate compared to them. He was so sensitive to my inner thoughts, quickly reminding me that most of the people that I’d be meeting tonight weren’t real. He pointed out that many of them were fabrications of a perception of beauty. Some even adopted alter egos when they attended public functions. He went on to explain that some, not all, had very little depth of emotion, especially in those people whose beauty was manufactured. As our conversation was ending, he reminded me that my Declan was the real one, and that I could be assured that I held his heart.
Feeling a bit overwhelmed and anxious, I was thankful to slip into the ladies room for a bit to reminisce on the memory of his words. Just a moment would suffice to think an
d touch up my make-up. I tried to remember the tips and tricks that Aimee shared with me while I got a second wind.
Gazing in the mirror to put the final touches on my hair, I felt an eerie chill on the back of my neck. I knew it was her before I heard her voice.
“You don’t honestly think that will help, do you?” came Marisol’s voice as she moved into an attack position.
I didn’t respond in the slightest, and I refused to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her presence. She moved slightly thinking I would turn.
Again, she tried to bait me.
“Seriously, Aria, you should take a good look at what you see”—Marisol made a circling motion with her finger up and down my frame—“then go out and look at Declan. Even you can see that he’s much too fine to be with the likes of you. You may have been his worker for this project, but that’s where your relationship should end—as his employee.”
I could feel anger rising within me, but I was still holding my ground and hadn’t addressed her.
She obviously didn’t like being ignored as it motivated her to move to the mirror next to mine and enticed her to address me more closely and maliciously.
I lost my own battle, gazing toward her. She knew she was victorious and gave me the most contemptuous of smiles.
“Of course,” she continued her merciless venting, “Since you were sleeping with Declan the entire time, you performed this renovation while under his employ…” She paused for effect as she sneered, “One could assume you were a paid whore as well.” TT
Now I felt the need to address her!
Feeling the unexpected heat and anger rise up inside of me, everything felt as if it were moving in slow motion. I turned very slowly as to be certain to make complete eye contact with her. I lifted my clutch and tucked it under my arm in a deliberate and ladylike manner. Making a conscious decision that I wanted this bitch to know exactly how I felt, I turned to address her.
Moving ever so closely so that I could look her in the eye, Marisol held her stance. For those few moments, she stood confident, thinking she had fed my insecurity and rocked my confidence.
She…was…wrong!
Within inches of her, I addressed her comment by speaking slowly and succinctly. I enunciated each word as I mentally spat them in her face, “I’d expect that you, above all people, would be an expert in that area, Marisol, and that you make that statement from your own experience. The room is filled tonight with your clients.”
Her face twisted and contorted into a vicious rage as her body sprang into action.
“You bitch!” she shouted at me and raised her hand to slap me.
Instantly, I was grateful for the advantages of being a girl that had done some manual labor. I also wasn’t afraid to break a manicured fingernail by protecting myself. I caught Marisol’s arm, making her lose her balance and pushed her back against the sink. Using that leverage, I kept her pinned, and she had no choice but to look at me. I was so efficient that not one of my own styled curls came undone.
Driving against her, I wanted her to feel fear because I knew I could use it to my advantage. Holding her wrist in my grasp and having her momentarily frozen, I held my chin high and postured myself in a dominant position. I had never been in a catfight, but she didn’t know that. I had no idea what was to come, but I wanted to feed her panic, and I craved for this lowlife to be wary of me in the future. Giving her fair warning was the first step.
“Stay away from me,” I said through gritted teeth. “Stay away from me, and stay away from Declan. Stay as far away as you can. I know our paths will cross, but don’t ever make the mistake of attacking me again. Tonight, you’ll walk out of here. If you ever try this again, I promise that you won’t be as lucky as you are tonight.”
With that, I flung her wrist away from me while she was still backed over the sink. As I straightened up, she tried to stand, still not having caught her balance. I walked away from her toward the door, letting her know that I was finished with this and with her; however, Marisol believed that she had to get in the last word.
“No need to worry, Aria. I will never attack you again.”
What was that supposed to mean? I never turned back to face her, but this time, I refused to allow her the last word she desired.
“Is that a threat, or a promise?” I countered.
Opening the door, I walked out, never waiting for an answer.
Once back in the hall, I quickly walked toward the nearest exit to get some air. Aimee noticed me and made her way toward me as I stepped outside.
“What happened? You look upset,” my friend inquired.
“I’m fine,” I assured her.
“That’s not what I asked,” she said with concern in her voice.
At that point, I was still uptight and couldn’t recant what had just transpired. To tell you the truth, I didn’t want to. Aimee came closer to me and placed my hand in hers; then she looked at my worried face and instantly read me.
“You don’t have to say anything; I can guess what it is. Marisol?” she asked. My eyes began to fill with tears as a queasy feeling fed my stomach. “No, Aria. Not tonight,” she insisted as she squeezed my hand. “Tonight’s just as much your night as it is Declan’s. Don’t let her steal one minute of it.”
“She’s disturbed, Aimee,” I managed to whisper.
“This is true, freak that she is” nodding her head in agreement. “You won’t let her win by ruining tonight for you, will you?” She smiled.
I faced my considerate friend and purposefully regained my composure.
“Besides that,” she added, “I may have to kill her if you ruin your make-up.”
With that, she made us both laugh. It was that scene that Declan walked into.
“Two beautiful, happy women. That’s what I like to see.” Upon his closer inspection, he noticed my uneasy demeanor. I read the concern in his face. “Aria, what’s wrong?” the care in his voice said it all.
“I’m good,” I said, putting my hand in his.
He frowned disapprovingly at my attempt to avoid his inquiry. He put his other hand on my hip and drew me closer.
“Should I quiz you for details now or later?” he said in a low snarl that indicated his displeasure at my avoiding the issue. Aimee correctly thought to excuse herself.
This night was so important to Declan that I couldn’t possibly trivialize it with tales of Marisol’s juvenile behavior. I also didn’t want to keep secrets from him, so we’d have time to talk later.
I felt the tears threaten to fall, not just because of my encounter with Marisol, but I knew I was spoiling his evening whether I told him or not, and it was just a matter of to what degree. I didn’t want to ruin tonight’s celebration of his dream and our hard work, but here I was, causing the moment to sour.
My gaze lowered to the floor as I couldn’t look into his eyes, for I knew if I did, then I’d come unraveled. I wasn’t a girl who was used to immature confrontation. The resulting emotional toll of the past half hour was beginning to hit me. Being in the arms of the person I felt the safest threatened my tears to fall. I needed to dismiss these feelings for the next several hours—for him.
I bit the inside of my cheek to hold my emotions in check, remembering my mother’s advice to take three deep breaths if ever I needed to calm down. I lowered my hand so that I could hold both of his and continued to look down at the floor. Declan said nothing. He waited and allowed me a few moments to compose myself, so I did just that.
As I took the fresh air into my lungs, I felt his strength and knew I had strong hands holding mine. I also knew that he’d do anything for me, and I realized that he’d confront Marisol here and now if he knew the details. My decision was to wait. We could talk later. My memory could be a bit more selective then, and I’d be more mature in the retelling. Yes, later would be better.
After a brief time, I raised my eyes to look confidently into his and address his question.
“Later, please,
if that’s okay with you?” I said as I watched him. Giving him a soft smile, I placed my hands on each side of his beautiful face so that I could let him see into my eyes and know that I was being truthful. “Right now, I want to share each moment of tonight with you so that we’ll have lots of wonderful memories to talk about tomorrow.”
As I suspected, he searched my eyes for the truth, and he found an answer that satisfied him. Still carefully looking at me, he lifted his hand and took my chin. He nodded in agreement and lowered his mouth to mine, confirming my comment with his kiss making me fill with security.
He didn’t release me after the kiss, but he held me firm, looking into my eyes with a serious stare.
“Later,” he said, and I nodded.
Escorting me back inside, Declan didn’t allow me to leave his side the remainder of the evening. He made certain that we had a fun-filled night that would become treasured reflections.
…and as the fairy tale evening came to a close, Aria had yet another encounter…with the one with the evil heart…
T When She Says Baby – Jason Aldean
TT Ten Times Crazier – Blake Shelton
TTT Welcome to my Nightmare – Ronnie James Dio
Life was good. Waking to the sound of the screeching gulls and crashing surf was perfect. As I look down at the beauty intertwined within my arms, my heartbeat quickened—a natural reaction to the view of the woman I loved. In fact, life in general felt perfect. Almost too perfect. T
Aria’s long, wavy hair was amiss and lying in front of me. It just begged for me to sink my face into it, so I indulged. I leisurely laid in the bed and breathed in the scent of her paired with the salty ocean air. I hadn’t imagined that life, for me, could ever be so content and complete.
The gala was a success. The Studio had been open and available for photographers for well over a month, and just yesterday, Katherine informed us that the studio space had been booked solid for the next two months. Aimee and I had decided to publicize for a short time and had received sixty-three prospects; some of those we interviewed were definitely runway material and others had potential for catalogue work.
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