The Other Woman.

1. England.

1. England. 

"Your actually in England, my God Nina," Paisley said, she seemed truly surprised, well I did tell her, I suppose she didn't take me serious. When I told her I'm getting paid one point six million dollars she burst out with laughter and tears of laughter ran down her cheeks and she just could not control herself as she bellowed harder with laughter. . . She thinks its some type of scam, but I personally don't think it is. . . Well I'll have to find out, won't I?

"I arrived in England about three hours ago," I told her, chuckling. "Ethan dropped me off, didn't he tell you?" I wondered, time zones are different now I suppose. I have such ignorance to time zones and all that mess, well it's ten thirty at night over here in England. 

"No, the guy is a lazy ass, he's probably on Xbox as we speak," she chuckled and sighed heavily. "Listen to me Nina, if this is some sort of prank or scam. . . I have something to say to you in advance," she said, her voice low, serious and quite serious, not her normal self for once. . . where as normally she's bright, bubbly and full of light. 

"What is it?" I asked curiously as I took a seat on the edge of my hotel bed. I'm feeling a pang of 'oh no, what have I done?' sort of feeling. 

"I told you so!" she yelled down the phone, followed with a bellow of laughter. 

I sighed heavily as I just roll my eyes, chuckling I sighed again, she is impossible to get serious. "See you soon too, thanks for the good wishes," I joked as I hung up and placed my phone onto my locker.

When I received that email I was curious of who the Chamberlain family are, so upon researching them I was shocked to see how much information came up about them. They're related to the royals, they make billions from old money and new businesses passed down generation by generation. I then wondered how they discovered a small New York singer like me. I'm barely known, let alone noticed for gigs. 

Tomorrow I have to meet with Bernard Chamberlain, the current family man, he wants to discuss my arrangements with performing my songs and all that stuff. I haven't talked to him yet, only his personal assistant Karen Moore, she seems nice. I was quite nervous, but with this money I thought of what I could do with it, I could buy a new house, I could buy a new car, get more studio time, all that glamour, it would be a great benefit for me. 

I got up then, looking around my dim room, Karen said she had booked a room for me here in Baker Street, it's nice, warm and cosy with shades of brown, gold and cream. I look around and spot my duffel bag. . . then I think of tomorrow, all I have is a cheap red skater dress and a small pair of Mary Jane heels, but that is my best outfit. . . I was nervous, jittery at the thought that I was going to talk to Bernard Chamberlain, discussing arrangements and one point six million dollars, the thought made me smile. 

I sighed heavily, it was best not to dawn on it too much as it would make me worse, instead that night I crawled into bed and began to drift off, thinking of the future with that money that lay ahead. It was simple really. . . Perform, perform, perform, earn money, fly home, live happily ever after. I repeated that little thought in my head till I was completely out, like a flame. 

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Bernard Chamberlain was an intimidating man even with his short height and plump physique, there was an essence of intimidation with him, he had this stare with his large nose and sleek oval eyes that sent a shot of uneasiness down my spine. Though, when he smiled he looked like the friendliest man I've ever had the best luck of meeting, he scared me. He wore a dark navy suit, tailored to the full extent of his physique with a white shirt buttoned right to his throat where his tan had also reached the collar and a red striped navy tie, black trousers and black shoes that made a tiny squeak when he first approached me. His hair was as white as snow, eyes as brown as fresh wood from a forest that held a life long lived.