June Horner's entire life came crashing down in one night.
After a vengeful ex-boyfriend spread rumours about her, destroying her reputation and making her undesirable by nearly every acting and modelling agency in existence, she was lost for months...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
d e l i c a t e
˜"*°•.˜"*°•.•°*"˜.•°*"˜
it feels like a perfect night, to dress up like hipsters, and make fun of our exes.
.҉ .҉ .҉
CHARLES SAT ON the edge of my bed, watching me put on my makeup from my spot on the floor. He did in fact win the Miami Grand Prix a few days ago, and we went out to dinner. I'm still not sure if it was a date or not, but part of me hopes it was.
"So remind me, who is Bluebell?" He asks, he's been looking through pictures of my family trying to learn off everyone's names for the last ten minutes.
"Blue is my stepsister," I say, brushing out my eyebrows. "She's on my dad's side, so she's Geri's daughter."
"Okay," he hums, swiping through my phone some more. "Geri, she was in the Spice Girls?"
"Mhm," I answer, trying to focus on not messing up my eyebrows.
"Geri and your father, they have a son," he says. "That's Monty, right?"
"Yes, and my father has another daughter, Olivia," I add, "from the marriage before Geri."
Charles hums again. "Luca, that's your stepbrother on your mother's side. And he races Formula E."
I hum again, beginning the near-impossible task that is eyeliner.
"And who is Felix?"
"That would be my mama's cat," I answer.
"Oh," he laughs, "will Felix be attending the dinner tonight?"
"I'm afraid not, chérie," I reply. The more I talk to Charles, the more habits and mannerisms of his I pick up, I've noticed. I called him chérie by accident the other day, but when he seemed to like it, I let it stick.
"And Davide, he's your stepdad?" He asks finally. I think he's gone through my whole immediate family now, so should be satisfied.
"Yes, if you talk to no one else tonight, talk to Davide. He's Italian, he lives and breathes Ferrari, so all you need to do is go all Ferrari Golden-Boy on him and you'll win him over," I explain, "and don't worry about my mama, she already loves you."
"Have you told your mother about me? The famed Eloise Alarie?" He laughs, putting the phone down, happy with the conclusion of his research.
"Oh, shut up," I reply, throwing the nearest soft item—one of my shirts—at him.
"No, I am honoured!" Charles teases, catching the shirt out of the air. "Eloise Alarie knows all about me and she loves me. It's a big honour."
"I will take it all back," I threaten, pointing my eyeliner at his reflection for emphasis.
"It's too late, she already loves me."
I let out a sarcastic little hum, finishing my other eye. "They will all love you, just avoid my father," I say. "Actually, maybe stay as far away from my dad as you can. Especially after the win over Max."
"So no bragging to Mr Horner?" He asks, I catch a little mischevious smile on his face in the reflection of his mirror.
"No bragging," I order. "Brag to Davide and Luca, do not brag to my dad. He doesn't even know you're coming."
"Pardon?" Charles says, the smile faltering.
"You can slip in with Nora, chérie, it will be fine," I brush off, doing my best to hide how nervous I actually am about this evening. "Just don't make eye contact with my dad."
"Are you ready babes?" Nora asks, swinging open the bedroom door. "Oh, ciao, Charles," she murmurs, walking over to give him a kiss on both cheeks. She gives me a surprised little sideglance as she pulls him in, mouthing, "is he coming?"
I nod, shrugging off the disbelief on her face. "Okay," Nora says, making no attempt to hide the little smirk on her face. "I'll go call us an Uber?"
Charles kept asking questions about my family the entire car ride to the venue, much to Nora's amusement. I had to reassure him over and over that he was going to be fine. It was nice to not be the one freaking out before an event for once.
He opens the car door for me and Nora, taking my hand to help me out from the back seat. I have to smile as I watch him nervously fidget with his shirt, readjusting the cuffs and collar.
"You're going to be fine, Charles," I quietly tell him, my voice is low so he knows my words are just for him to hear. He smiles sweetly, and his eyes seem to soften. I give his shirt a quick straighten and pick a piece of lint from his shoulder, gently running my hands on the fabric to smooth out any wrinkles.
"Are you coming, piccioncini?" Nora asks, a few steps ahead of us.
I roll my eyes at her and Charles laughs a little at it, then he starts on the steps. Turning with an extended hand, he asks, "shall we, ma chérie?"
I smile, taking his hand. I hear a faint sound of camera shutters somewhere to our right. A sound I haven't heard in a while, but know all too well. Charles gives a little wave in the direction, but doesn't let go of my hand. He stays by my side all the way to the door.
˜"*°•.˜"*°•.•°*"˜.•°*"˜
piccioncini is italian for lovebirds in case anyone was curious!
soz this was a little shorter but i wanted to write the actual dinner scene in a separate chapter
