WYATT
"Who would have thought Veronica Cordova would ever need my help?" One corner of my lips tugged into an arrogant smirk.
She quietly sat in front of me-- in my $20,000 couch I had imported from Portugal that was custom-made to my likings by one of the finest furniture designers in the world-- probably chewing on her inner cheek and stopping herself from saying something feisty. Damn! It felt so good to have this much power to your long-time enemy. I was enjoying every minute of this.
"So, are you going to let me stay or what?" There was that usual bite to her tone.
"Hmm..." I rubbed my chin as if thinking. But at that moment, I had already made up my mind.
"It's just for the mean time. My bestfriend's out of town and my Ninong Rome's out of the country, ayaw naman akong tanggapin ng mga kapatid ko..." Her voice squeaked a little.
"And you have no other friends to go to?" I cocked a brow and chuckled. "Well, that doesn't surprise me at all."
"I have. It's just that... hindi naman makapal ang mukha ko para magmakaawang patuluyin nila ako. I don't want to suddenly knock on their doors and ask if I could stay in with them. Para naman akong pulubi nun. Nakakahiya."
"Bakit sa akin hindi ka nahiyang lumapit?"
"You owe me, Wyatt. My Dad's throwing me out of the house because I stood firm in posing for Sybarite." She crossed her arms over her chest like the brat she truly was. Boy, this woman was really something. You could see the fire in her eyes that burns brighter than ever when it comes to protecting her belief. She stood true to how the media had portrayed her. Fierce, bold, and fucking wild with light.
"That's what I like about you, Veronica." I let out a satisfied exhale as I leaned comfortably back to my seat, I was so relaxed I wanted to melt like a butter. Everything was going according to what I had planned. Veronica Cordova would be on the cover of Sybarite and there's no stopping her. "You are a woman of your word."
"And I expect the same from you, too, Wyatt Lazaro." She said in a rather professional way. Even taking the time to clasp her fingers together on her lap so as to look professional.
I eyed her from head to toe and I couldn't help but think of the conversation I had with my lovely publicist. Veronica and I posing for Sybarite. I'd dismissed the idea and concept thinking it couldn't possibly work. It was too... new, I thought. Too outlandish. My eyes grazed her face, she had that innocent look upon her face as her features were soft and feminine. She had dark brown eyes with long dark lashes surrounding them that lend the features of babydoll innocence. Her impeccable cheekbones, her pointed nose, and her luscious lips... dear Lord, they were deadly combinations. Her long hair was as dark as night as it fell upon her shoulder, making her look like a siren who could lure helplessly seduced men to destruction with the promise of pleasure.
Her beauty was a hybrid of soft, angelic features and the chiseled model features. I didn't know if that even made sense. She was a welter of contradictions compromising strength and vulnerabilty, innocence and experience. She was part angel, part wanton wrapped in a dangerously enticing package. I had come across a lot of beautiful women in my life as women were the subject of my magazine and her beauty was the kind you would not often see. If I were to put her in a room full of beautiful models, she would easily stand out like a diamond in a rug. My eyes lowered. The pink tee and white capri she had on made her look like a teenager. But one with a perfect body shape. Her curves were defined by that simple clothing she had on, her top was slightly tight around her bosoms. The same pair of bosoms she'd shown the world and the same pair I had held in my hands. In this industry I was in, real breasts were rare finds. They were soft, and warm, and just natural. Shifting to my seat, the thought of it had set my mind on fire.
