The billionaire’s true love

Part 3

I was waiting for my martini when I saw him. Jose was striding over to me with a warm smile on his face. I got off my bar stool to hug him. He looked handsome in his white polo shirt and jeans. His blonde hair looked messy as usual, and his hazel eyes were sparkling.

“Hey Jose, how are you?” I asked as Jose wrapped me in his warm embrace.

“I’m all right, Amanda. Are you ready to go? The designer is looking forward to meeting you,” Jose replied.

“Yes, although I’m nervous,” I replied, feeling the familiar heart palpitations, which I always got whenever my nerves attacked me.

“Don’t be, they’ll love you.” Jose put his arm around me. “Let’s go.” And led me out of the bar.

“Is it far? I mean the studio,” I asked.

“Not really, just a couple of blocks away from here.” Jose held up his arm to hail a cab.

“Why don’t we just walk there, I can surely use it, sitting in the cab will only result in me being a nervous wreck,” I suggested.

“All right, we’ll walk.” Taking my hand Jose and I walked to the studio.

“So? How was the dinner?” Jose enquired, rounding a corner.

“It would’ve been perfect if it hadn’t been for Theodore’s infuriating cousin,” I answered, my scalp pricking in frustration.

“Theodore’s cousin?” Jose gave me one of his peculiar looks, that said, ‘The who?’.

“Yeah, Trent Benson; the man has ego bigger than Jupiter,” I grumbled, remembering Trent’s arrogant words.

“You don’t like him very much,” Jose observed.

I let out a bitter laugh. “Like him? If torturing humans was legal, I would love to torture him until he sealed his mouth forever,” I spat.

“Wow, he must’ve done something really terrible for you to be this mad,” Jose stated as we rounded another corner.

“Not really, he just had to open his mouth,” I responded, eyeing the cars zooming by.

Jose chuckled. “Well hopefully you’ll be able to forget about this Trent guy once we reach the studio.”

“I hope so. How much further do we have to go?” I queried.

“We just have to take a left from that lamp post and we’ll be there,” Jose answered.

“Right. So, you tell me, anything new with you?” I glanced at Jose.

“My brother is coming next week,” he replied.

I frowned. “What brother? Do you mean your step-brother?”

“The one and only,” Jose responded grimly.

“Okay, I guess you’re not looking forward to his visit.” We took a left and I started looking left and right, trying to spot the studio.

“Let’s just say, it’s better when he’s not here,” Jose said bitterly.

“Does he disrupt the family peace?” I questioned.

“In order for him to do that we first need a family, and we don’t have that. But if you think me and him are a family then sure, he practically destroys the goddamn peace,” Jose hissed.

“All right, calm down.” I hated seeing Jose unhappy.

“Sorry. Anyways, forget about him, look, we’re here.” Jose pointed at a building straight ahead. I followed his finger and saw a beautiful building that looked as if it came straight out of a home decor magazine. The three-storey building had a gabled roof with dark pink tiles; the facade was white with a window at the gable end. There were flower pots fixed into metal holders, and a brown, wooden door with a brass knocker finished the look.

“That is one beautiful studio,” I commented.

“Yes it is. Let’s go, the designer is expecting us.” Without a word, I followed Jose to the studio. He rang the bell, and the door opened in less than ten seconds. A flustered looking female, wearing a silk blouse and black slacks while holding a clipboard in one hand and the door with the other greeted us.

“Hello, how can I help you?” She looked to be in a hurry.

“I’m here to see Darla Vince. She wanted my friend to model the clothes.” Jose gestured towards me, and that lady gave me a quick once over.

“Wait a second, please.” She flipped the page of her clipboard and hurriedly scanned the second page. “Right. Are you Amanda Lawson?”

“Yes, I am.” I nodded.

“Okay good, you’re here, a couple of minutes late and Mrs. Vince would’ve had my head. Please come in.” The lady ushered me inside like a mother rushing her children inside the house when a storm was about to hit.

The inside of the studio was not what I expected. I expected to see expensive furniture, a kitchen on the left, a staircase on the right, but there was no such thing. The entire space was turned into the perfect place for a photoshoot. There were various couches in different colors, shapes and sizes, strategically placed all around. There were a few paintings that prevented the place from looking bland. A few lamps were sitting in the corners, with beautiful silk curtains behind them.

“Who is Darla Vince?” I asked Jose softly.

“The designer who made the clothes,” he replied in an equally low tone.

“Right. So if you could just wait here.” The flustered lady gestured to the couches. “I’ll let Mrs. Vince know that you’re here.” Turning around, the woman jogged in the direction of a small door.

“This place is something,” I commented flopping down on the purple couch.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Jose sat down beside me.

“Do you think she’ll approve of me?” I asked, anxiety wrapping its spindly legs around my mind.

“Hey. She’ll love you. When I showed her your photographs, she immediately told me to call you and have you come here for a trial shoot. So I’m sure she’ll have you model her clothes,” Jose stated, giving my hand a squeeze.

“What if she doesn’t? I mean, there are other models out there-better models, with more experience, I’m nothing compare to them.” My insecurities were kicking in.

“Yes, there are other models with more experience, but they are not you. You are different Amanda, and trust me, Darla will pick you, I know it,” Jose said with conviction.

“I hope so,” I murmured. Just then, I heard a clickety clack of high heels approaching. I turned my head to see a woman who looked to be in her late thirties walking towards me. She was wearing a formal black coat and skirt with red stilettos. Her hair were pulled up in a tight bun and a pair of diamond spectacle were perched on the bridge of her nose.

Jose and I stood up to greet her just as she stopped in front of us. I was not going to lie, the woman was intimidating. She had this aura of power, which strangely reminded me of Trent.

“Good morning, I’m Darla Vince, you must be Amanda Lawson.” Darla spoke in professional no-nonsense tone.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Vince.” I shook hands with her, trying my best to stop my knees from trembling.

“We better get started. We’ll do a trial shoot first and if we like the results then we’ll hire you,” Darla stated. She wasted no time with pleasentries and I wasn’t sure whether I liked that or not.

“Of course.” I had no idea what else to say, anxiety had taken over my senses. I just wished that Darla would hire me.

~*~*~*~*

After an hour and a half, the camera finally left me. I sighed in relief as the photoshoot came to an end. I took a couple of deep breaths to get myself under control. The camera did not leave me for even a full minute; the only time I did not hear the constant clicking of the camera was in between poses.

“All right. We’ll go over the photos and send them to the owner and if we approve, we’ll call you back. Thank you for your time, Ms. Lawson.” Darla told me. It took me by surprise when she said she’d send my photos to the owner; I thought she was the owner.

I nodded my head, ready to leave with Jose. He had just slipped his phone in the pocket of his jeans when the flustered lady was back, looking more flustered than the last time I saw her. In fact, she looked as if she would start to hyperventilate any minute.

“Mrs. Vince. Mrs. Vince, he’s here, Mr. Allan is here,” the lady gasped for air.

“Oh? Well this is unexpected, but I’m glad he’s here, he can interview Ms. Lawson here himself,” Darla stated.

My eyes widened at her words. Wasn’t it enough that I had to deal with one intimidating woman and now this Allan guy would interview me; I was way out of my comfort zone here.

“Mr. Allan is the owner of our brand. Without his approval no design is moved forward and no model is hired. If you manage to impress him, your chances of getting hired will definitely increase.” Without waiting for me to respond, Darla turned and strode away to greet Mr. Allan.

“You have got to be kidding me, first Darla and now this Allan guy? Jose what the hell?” If we weren’t here, I would screamed.

“Calm down, you just have to talk to this Allan guy, it’s not such a big deal.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Not a big deal?! Are you out of your mind?! This guy could make or break my career, and why didn’t you tell me he was the bloody owner of this company?” Panic flowed through my mind, making my senses go haywire.

“I didn’t know he was the owner of the company,” Jose defended.

“Are you kidding me?! Did you not do your research about this company before telling me?!” I demanded to know.

The sheepish expression on Jose face gave me the answer. And the only reason I did not explode was because we were in public and my career was at stake.

“Jose, I can’t fucking believe you?! You just brought me here for a photoshoot without researching this company! These people could be human traffickers for all we know. Oh no, they have my photographs, they might turn me into a prostitute! Shit, Jose do something before these people kidnap me and sell me off in an auction. Oh my God, I think I’m gonna faint.” Jose caught me before I could even pretend to stumble.

“Stop that, these people are not frauds. And you are not getting sold off in any auction or being turned into a prostitute, stop over analyzing everything and just focus on meeting this Allan guy, he’s important,” Jose chided.

“Next time you don’t do your research, I am going to break your camera,” I threatened.

“No. Don’t you dare hurt my Libby, she’s all I have.” A spark of terror lit Jose blue eyes before it was replaced by the familiar mischief one.

“Try not to have the complete information next time and you’ll see,” I warned.

“Jeez, calm down. And what is taking Darla so long? Shouldn’t this Allan guy be here already?” Jose looked around, trying to spot Darla or Mr. Allan.Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

“I don’t know, I just want to get this over with,” I whined. As soon as I got home, I was going to eat a whole tub of my favorite ice cream; I deserved it after a day like this.

“I think we should sit down, I think they’ll be a while.” Jose turned to head back to the couch, but before he could take a step, the sound of multiple footsteps echoed before three people appeared in front of us.

Darla and the flustered lady were standing side by side, while a man stood next to them. My eyes widened followed by my jaw dropping as my eyes fell upon the person I never expected to see here. This was one of those moments in which I felt like I was living in an alternate universe. Because the real world was not so surreal.

“Ms. Lawson, this is Mr. Allan Benson. He is the owner of our company.” Darla turned to addressed the man. “Mr. Allan, this is Amanda Lawson, our potential model,” she introduced us.

I had no idea why Darla was calling him Allan, because I knew this man by a totally different name, and that name did not start with A either. No, there had to be some kind of a rational explanation for all this. Either this Allan guy was an identical twin or the man I knew had lied to me.

There stood Trent Benson; at least that was what I believed. There was no way I wouldn’t remember the man who insulted me. Not to mention, he was emitting the same aura of power and arrogance like Trent. This was Trent.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Lawson.” Trent extended his hand for me to shake.

“Uhh, me too.” I shook his hand robotically. I couldn’t believe Trent was here.

“Mr. Benson is going to interview you, and he will give the final verdict. In our world, his word is law,” Darla stated, making me wish I had never agreed to take on this project. There was no way Trent was going to hire me.

“Darla, is my office ready?” Trent or Allan-whatever his name was-asked.

“Yes, it is, Mr. Benson,” Darla answered.

“Good. I shall conduct the interview in private. Ms. Lawson, if you will just follow me.” Trent/Allan turned and strode towards the right side of the studio. I followed stupidly, praying with all my heart that the ground would open up and swallow me whole. This was not how I envisioned this photoshoot to go. And I definitely did not envision seeing Trent of all people here, and he was the fucking owner.

Trent/Allan stopped in front of a door. I saw a metal plate nailed to the door saying Allan Benson. Trent placed his hand on the door knob and gave me a cryptic look. And no matter how much I wished it to be otherwise, I knew he remembered me.

“Ready for your interview, Ms. Lawson?” Trent asked.

“Yes.” I nodded. I couldn’t believe I had been reduced to monosyllabic words.

“All right. Come in.” He opened the door and both of us entered his office, my heart pounding.

Fuck my life.