Olivia's pov

"Miss Lavigne, what a pleasure to have you here. Please take a seat. How do you drink your coffee?" I tried so hard to smile, feeling my teeth could fall off at this act.

The woman in front of me coughed, straightening her 10 million dollars dress before sitting on the large leather couch. She touched the side, examining it. My lips trembled as I pushed the number to Betty's office.

"Betty, bring two coffees a laté for me and a super dark one for Miss Adele Lavigne." My gaze fixated her, "And maybe some sweets." I whispered, glancing at my nails.

I closed the phone, striding to where the old woman's seat.

"Miss García, they informed me you were being vilaine." She positioned herself near my sofa, as her French tongue cut through my brain cells.

"Excuse me?" I rose my eyebrows at her statement.

"This Mr. Performer whoever he is, c'est un ami, right?" She winked, adjusting the big flowery bow laid on her thigh.

"Yes, of course, a friend." I nodded, fidgeting with my hands. "An old friend."

"Tell me more about the upcoming fashion show."

I sighed in relief once she changed the subject.

"Well, I designed a dress, as you can see." I pointed to where the black dress hanged on a statue model.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, rising to her feet, marching towards it to inspect, after clapping her hands once. She hummed, turning around it.

The door knocked, before showing in Betty with the two coffee mugs. Without sweets. Making my eyes distend.

She placed them on the wooden table in the middle.

"Thank you, Betty."

She nodded, studying me. She crouched next to me and lowered her voice. "There's a hot man outside demanding to see you. He is not telling me who he is, but he's probably the same from today's news."

My eyes wide opened, "What? No, Shoo him out." I waved my hand, smiling, looking back at Miss Lavigne. I sat up, ignoring the frowned Betty.

"Well?" I crossed my arms as the door closed. I gazed at the dress I made, pitch black, with silver glitter, cinched at the waist and one side tied up in a ribbon to show more skin.

"Hmm, there's something off. That I can't point out." My hands fisted, still forcing a grin. I closed my eyes, calming my rage as I watch an almost dead woman scrutinizing my dress. She was short, with eyeglasses and silver bracelets that cost my Cadillac car collection.

The doorknob was fidgeting, and we both turn around to stare at it.

"Just a second."

My heart raced as I opened the door to face the gorgeous Ethan Thompson whom Betty was stopping from getting in. When she saw me, she stepped away. He was gazing at me like he forgot what he came for. Betty got behind her desk. I closed the door behind me, holding the knob in both hands. We were only a few inches away. The lean man with a chest like a brick wall didn't shift when I bumped into him. I inhaled, scanning his familiar face. Yet it was owned by a stranger. A stranger who I met two days ago, a stranger who I can't explain what am feeling for. I shook my head as I remembered my hormones playing with me today.

"O-Olivia." He breathed out.

His light brown eyes struck mine. Their intensity couldn't even make me look at his other features.

"Y-yes?" I asked, my cheeks burning. We stared at each other, waiting for something to happen. I looked down at his full cherry lips, ready to be kissed. A Knock vibrated through my back.

The knob fidgeted in my hands. I didn't realize how tight my hold was until I let go of it.

Ethan stepped back as I opened the door and peeked in, not wanting Miss Lavigne to see him.

"Yes, Miss Lavigne?"

"Bring ton ami waiting at the door with you. He might know what's wrong with this dress."

She strode back to it, tracing her hand on its cotton.

"My friend?"

"Yes, your friend."

I closed the door, heaving. I turned around to face Ethan again; I shook my head, gripping his wrist in my hand.

"Come with me," I ordered, running. I ended up tugging at his sleeve while he looks down at me, not moving.

"Ethan? Ethan Stewart Thompson!" His eyebrows raised

"Yes?" He asked.

"Come with me." I tugged again at the edge of his shirt.

"Why?" He demanded. I stopped looking at him to figure how serious he was.

I pointed one finger right in front of his nose.

"When you asked me to follow you right into that dark small room, I didn't ask, did I?" I stated in a hushed voice. He looked at my pointed finger before laughing. How the hell did he afford a Hollywood smile.

When we arrived at the wardrobe room. I lighted it as we stepped in; it was filled with dresses, shirts... every design I made. His eyes examining every item. I sensed my anxiety that only rises when Miss Lavigne is here building up again.

"Take off your shirt," I urged, looking right at him.

His eyebrows went up as he settled his eyes on me. "Only your shirt." I stupidly blurted.

'Get a fucking grip, Olivia.'

"Oh really? You sure about that?" He let out a laugh making my heart quiver, his eyes getting lighter.

He took his blouse off. Placing it on my left. Leaving him only with his white flannel. I watched him and noticed the gigantic dragons filling both his arms up to his chest. And now I wished he lifted off the flannel too.

"What do I take off next?" He smirked, eyeing me up and down. I stood up, adjusting down my skirt as I now seemed conscious about how short it was. He started pulling himself towards me. He stepped too close, causing me to stumble back till my back hit the edge of the table behind.

I closed my hands together. He looked at my ring finger before nodding before he cleared his throat.

"Sorry." He uttered as I turned around to search for a navy blazer. "There, wear this." I tossed it in his face making him stumble a bit backwards. He took it with his fingers making me notice his rings.

"Why?"

I stood silently. He slid both his muscular arms into the jacket. Fixing it on his shoulder, the air blew in from a slightly open window, blowing up his scent in the room. A fresh, woody scent entered my nostrils. I tried so hard not to close my eyes and enjoy the moment.

I laid my back at the edge of the table, before sighing watching him flipping his hair back.

"It's not my place to talk but since am brought into this, that woman is making you nervous." He twisted to look at the mirror behind him. "and I have worn nothing like this." He declared, not letting me reply as his eyes now were looking at me through the mirror.

"She is Miss Lavigne. The designer master." I looked up at the ceiling.

"So what? She is human, just like you and me." He shrugged "and besides, I don't know you, but when I was downstairs, I heard stories of employers shitting themselves when looking at you."

"Who the hell invented those stories." I laughed, making him laugh with me. He spun back, turning to me as his face turned serious. "I came for a reason, and yet I don't know why am here wearing a two hundred dollar blazer. Chatting with a rich stranger."

"Three hundred." I smiled, but his glare was too intense, making me frown. "You can just leave. The door is right there." I pointed at the closed exit.

He stood still, his eyes searching mine.

"Now if you will excuse me I have a guest awaiting my presence." I pushed myself out of his way to the door. I went back to where Adele Lavigne was, leaving him behind.

"Where is the boy?" She was back on the couch, sipping her coffee.

"I don't think he is-." A presence next to me cut me off.

"Hello Miss Lavigne, I heard wonderful words considering your work, it's nice to finally meet you." I looked at the hand held out to take Lavigne's, it looked strong as it shakes Adele's hand, leaving her giggling.

"T'es trop charmant p'tit." I laughed drastically at her comment, wanting to cry. I stopped sniffling as I took in the silence.

I looked up as I met wide dark eyes, "Are you okay Olivia?" I nodded, making space for him to sit next to me. His presence seemed light and familiar like we were used to it.

"So, p'tit what do you think about this dress?" Lavigne huffed.

"Well, it's too normal for a fashion show." He leaned back, laying his arm behind me on the sofa's edge. I was drinking coffee before I started coughing uncontrollably. His hand went on my back, patting it.

"Don't get me wrong love, but all your other fashion shows have the color black as the theme." He whispered high enough to make Lavigne hear. My breath hitched as the words slid out of his mouth.

'Oh god'

"Mon Dieu, C'est ç'a!" She got up "Je veux plus de couleurs." She sat back, scowling at me. "You were very colorful when you were my student, García. What happened? You should follow a colorful theme." I nodded, accepting her criticism. "And from when you hid gorgeous boys like him from me?" Her smile appeared back again, making me sigh in relief. "She will figure it out." She waved at me, ogling back at Ethan.

"It seemed to me you were in a rush to talk with Miss García. Is it because of today's news?" She asked, forcing Ethan to cross his eyebrows.

"What news?" He turned to look at me. I stared at him for a second, admiring his tense jawline.

"No, he is here so we can plan what songs he wants to sing on my show."