Chapter 2

Alana's POV

The Andersons are a family dedicated solely to modeling. In her time, my mother was one of the best, no one could believe that a woman could be so beautiful, her body, her eyes, her hair. Everyone loved those specific aspects. I grew up thinking I had to be like her, although she never forced me, at least not at first. At first, I enjoyed the early days of my modeling career, I felt free, I felt like that was truly my world. But now I have nowhere to turn, I have to model and follow in my family's footsteps, not because I enjoy it, but because it's what they want. I found out about the marriage days after returning from Milan, my parents were sitting talking among themselves and looked up, they watched me for what felt like years and then they let it out. "We want you to marry the son of a wealthier family than ours."

I thought about it and wanted to laugh, I don't want to get married at this age, I don't want to have to organize a wedding that will make me unhappy for a long time and I certainly don't want to give my parents that pleasure. I had thought about refusing, telling them that this wasn't what I wanted for my life. That I was going to move out of the house in a few days. When I was about to say it, Dad confessed that he had already signed a contract and that my opinion this time was not valid. I felt like I was sold out by my parents, and what I wanted wasn't relevant to them.

I'm sitting in a café drinking coffee with one of my best friends, Anastasia, she promised me she would be here to make me feel better and of course, she wanted to meet the person I'm going to marry. I'm not excited about introducing her to Jack, but I don't have many options. I've met his best friend and he needs to meet mine. That's how normal relationships work. We promised we were going to try to make it work that way.

We didn't promise anything. I just assumed and let myself be carried away by Anastasia's crazy ideas, that's why we're both here waiting for a businessman whose schedule must be busier than the President of the United States.

"Is he handsome?" Anastasia looks at me and continues stirring her coffee, but I just shrug in response. I have no idea if he's handsome or not, but I don't want to know anything else about it, or about how everyone on social media thinks he's the most attractive man on the planet. Not to mention that two years ago a photo of his abdomen was leaked and the girls died for such a work of art. Or so they described it.

"If he has a handsome friend, I want to meet him, I need a man to come and tell me everything I have to do."

"Everything you have to do?" I laugh and she shakes her head. Since we've known each other, she's liked to joke like that, for Anastasia, men are like tissues, she uses them and discards them. And it's not just because she wants to, it's because there are more things behind why she is the way she is.

"You know I'm joking, I haven't met anyone after him. At least not anyone I like."

Her eyes stop and she licks her lips sensually, I raise a playful eyebrow and she signals for me to turn around. However, I don't. I feel like it would be too indiscreet on my part.

"He's the most handsome man I've ever seen in my life, you have to see him. Alana, I'm serious, you have to see him before he sits at his table," she whispers hysterically. I shake my head repeatedly, but she drops something on the floor for me to pick up, I open my eyes and bend down. By the time I'm about to get up, I hear a gasp from my friend and a deep voice I haven't heard much of.

"Good morning."

I put Anastasia's earring on the table, blinking slowly as I see Jack and exhale. Neither of us has sent messages to each other other than the morning one. We don't talk much, we don't know anything about each other. The dinner the other day went considerably well. And even though our parents seem to be longtime friends, my mom and his are very different people, married to similar men. Jack slides the chair back and sits down, neither of us says anything and he smiles. It's a smile that says he's been nervous on his way here and doesn't know where to start. Sometimes, knowing his entire career and the big things he's accomplished, I forget that we're the same age.

"He's my fiancé," I say, Anastasia opens her mouth to say something but then closes it.

"Pleased to meet you, Jack Lather."

"Anastasia Spring," she smiles and lets out a laugh after that. Jack furrows his brow not quite understanding what that was about. Until I realize that Anastasia was talking about Jack when she mentioned the most handsome man in the universe.

"You're even prettier than in the photos that Alana showed me. We haven't been seeing each other much, but I like to think that talking about nails and photos is her passion and not her way of torturing me.

"Nails are an art that few women possess, so I hope you know what you're talking about," I mutter and he laughs. I've never talked to him about nails, clothes, or photos. Really, about no particular topic. Those things I talk about with my friends and people in my social circle. Most people probably think I'm the typical model who likes the same things all the time, and they may be right, I'm very stereotypical. But I'm okay with who I am. Nevertheless, Anastasia seems impressed by what Jack has said and a smile from ear to ear on her part lets me know that he likes her for me.

And I hate it, I hate the way Anastasia smiles in his presence, I don't want her getting any strange ideas. He's just a guy I met two days ago. He doesn't know anything about me, and I have no idea where he got what he said seconds ago. But he pretends to know me well and smiles so superficially that it makes me sick. I don't know how she doesn't realize that Jack is just trying to please her.

"Last weekend, Alana and I went to a party, and everyone there wanted to be with her. But don't worry, she didn't pay attention to any of them," as she develops her story, Jack nods and listens attentively. "A guy was so drunk that he spilled his drink on her, and the best part of the situation is that being a woman, Alana knew how to put him in his place. I was impressed by everything she said. In a few words, she insulted him and may have put him in his place a little, but he deserved it."