Chapter 24: Glam Shoots and Scandals

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Oh, God.

I should've known Natalie Wattson wanted me down but I couldn't help feeling shocked. Very, very shocked. I don't know...maybe because I had been feeling something horrible deep inside, telling me that Natalie was not what the duke or Michael originally thought of her, and some part of me -- the one that was guilty -- told me she was innocent and just wanted Michael and I to be happy together; that she accepted the fact that her Adonis of an ex-boyfriend was getting married to an American nobody.

Uh, correction -- an American bitch.

Now there was something more different lurking inside me. Something I knew so well, it was hard to miss it. It was that anger. That sarcasm. That toughness.

That part of me that didn't want to back down and give up.

This was who I was and still am.

I knew that I was only fighting over a guy, but this was the one I love. Love like I had experienced with Michael back in the cottage didn't just come on top of a silver platter. It was earned.

And right now, I was seriously pissed off.

"I cannot believe her!" Emerson boomed, flailing her hands in the air.

Viv looked at her and placed a hand on her hip. "We've always had that gut-wrenching feeling that she's not who the others think she is. We're right all along. Natalie's here to steal Michael back."

"I know! But Dad likes her! It's unbelievable." She began to sneer, "She's one great actress. You know, instead of being a model, she should have gone to bloody theatre school. Or a mental institution. You saw her footage, yeah? She's mad!" she whispered, her face twisted in disgust.

"We have to think of another plan. A good one." Viv began scratching her smooth chin, pacing back and forth across the living room area. "But what?"

"Grandmama won't help us till we come up with a bloody good plan."

I wanted to tell Michael everything about Natalie, but he might not believe me. I wanted him to see that she was insane; that she was completely obsessed with him! I wanted to embarass the supermodel, but how?

"Keller," I heard Frederick say softly, coming up behind me. "Are you all right?" He touched my shoulders.

I just realized then that I was shaking so bad because of my anger.

And then, something dawned on me.

Tomorrow. The engagement ball. Natalie would be there, topping off whatever gown Lady C had for me and the girls. The diary of Marge Swinton -- Lady Margaret Swinton Cutting.

Now that I knew who Countess Lockley was, I had a plan. I didn't smirk arrogantly nor did I laugh triumphantly because I had something up my sleeves.

Instead, I gave Frederick a curt nod and walked stiffly yet determinedly out of the room, saying loudly, echoing through the mansion halls, "That skinny bitch is going down."

^^^^^

Today was the day the Marc Tuisson crew came to Rossington Park.

The crew set up a white tent for the "models" to help them get dressed and made up. It was only eight in the morning, thus, most of us should have been groggy, but instead, it was like Paris Fashion Week, where everybody was bouncy and fast.

I didn't know why we had to be quick since we had all day but the taskmaster of the clothing line explained that they only had four hours for the shoot-which would take a lot of shots to perfect the five-page spread on a magazine for the Marc Tuisson ad. The reason was because another new upcoming designer, Ria Delacorte, was scheduled to come at exactly two p.m. where, personally, Ria would come on time with her own crew members.

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