"Yaaass!!" Isla's heart danced, and her eyes were filled with happiness.
"What makes you so excited?"
"I've been called back to work. Plus, I'm joining the modeling lineup for the Interstate Fashion Week."
"You've been in that before, isn't?" Cade sounded uninterested.
"But I've never been in the lineup. I've only been a coordinator. This year's a big opportunity for me to have contracts!"
"Congrats, then." Cade left the living room.
"Where are you off to?" She didn't get any reply. She rolled her eyes.
"He'll never change."
For the next three weeks, Isla Sinclair got busy for the preparation of her Interstate Fashion Showcase. She was representing Illinois, even though she was born in California and grew her career there. She attended photoshoots, mini fashion elections and practiced with the other models.
"Hi." Isla greeted her mom when she saw her in the dressing room. Her face wasn't welcoming.
"What are you doing in this room? Didn't Naomi tell you I was getting dressed here?" Rhea Sinclair faced her daughter with a fierce look.
"I...I knew. I just wanted to get an emerald necklace from the closet."
"Get it, and leave."
"Mom, you didn't even ask how I was doing. You didn't come to check up on me."
"I can't bother, Isla. I've got so much work to do. The modeling society needs money. I have to get it for them. They have daughters to worry about too, and my daughter shouldn't be an excuse. Well, their daughters have husbands." Isla shot an angry look at her mom.
"Why are you staring? Pick your emerald necklace, and get out of here. Do I always have to repeat things. Helpless lame widow living on her father's money." Rhea insulted and faced the mirror.
"Excuse me?"
"Excuse you!" Rhea opened the closet and picked the first emerald necklace she saw. She packaged it and flung it at the door.
"Its at the door already so leave! You disgust me." Isla went to the door and picked the necklace. She slammed the door angrily behind her.
"Why don't you take out the door from its frame? Your dad's rich enough!"
Isla was literally hitting her steps hard on the ground, one after the other. The staffs knew she was infuriated. She went to her office and threw her bag on the sofa slamming the door.
"Who does that bitch Rhea Sinclair think she is? How could she call me those names? Argh!!" She hit her clenched fist on the table, panting heavily.
"Isla, you're worse than a coward. How could you just stay there without doing anything? You should have hit her hard on those boobs!" She yelled, talking to herself furiously.
It was the day of The Interstate Fashion Showcase, and models from thirty-five of fifty American States were getting ready to leave with the state prize.
"Thank you, thank you so much, ma'am. But, you've got a pretty daughter who's also representing Illinois. Why do you want me to represent?"
"Because you've done such a great job. In Isla absence, you've been so dilligent. I've seen that you're focused on winning and you're positive. You don't possess those negative qualities of Isla's. I like you."
"Thank you, Mrs. Sinclair. Its a dream come true for me. I'll never let you down." Judy Keen promised.
"What's up, Rhea?" A woman in her 60's entered the room, panicking.
"Mrs. Bourgeois, I've got everything under control."
"No Rhea, you've got nothing. Why do we have two Illinois representatives?" Mrs Amarah Bourgeois asked.
"We have only one. Here she is. Judy Keen." Rhea Sinclair indicated by the Illinois sash she had on her shiny armless silver gown.
"But, Isla Sinclair is also an Illinois representative."
"We're picking one – Judy is representing us."
"No. Judy didn't even practice. Her name isn't on the list. Does that mean Illinois won't showcase fashion tonight? Rhea Sinclair, you've been so disorganized these past months. What's wrong with you?"
"Mrs. Amarah Bourgeois, I'm fine. This modeling society is fine, okay? Illinois will be on stage tonight, and Judy is representing. C'mon Judy..." Isla walked in.
"No." Isla wasn't dressed for the show yet, but there was an Illinois sash on her outfit.
"I'm the representative."
"Rhea Sinclair, don't turn me into a maniac. Explain this." Mrs Amarah pouted angrily.
"There's nothing to explain here. The representative is Judy Keen." Rhea Sinclair was stern.
"Yes, I..."
"Stay out of this, Judy." Isla stopped her from talking.
"Rhea Sinclair, you've suspended Isla for more than a month. And now that she's back, you don't want her to participate in the fashion showcase she has been preparing for? Please, if you can't bear to see your daughter lead in this modeling industry, you should sign out." Rhea was shocked to hear Mrs. Amarah being harsh to her.
"But, I'm the leader. I should choose who I want to represent my state."
"Oh shut up. Isla is representing Illinois, and America at large." On hearing this, Rhea Sinclair left angrily, hitting Isla with her shoulder.
"She's a...."
"Chill, Isla. You should get dressed. Judy, please leave the room." Judy stormed out of the room. Amarah and Isla rolled their eyes simultaneously.
"Get dressed, dear."
Isla shone on the stage with her purple bikini and cape, which she wore in the first round, she was better than anyone else. She made a runway walk which made fans wild with applause and cheers. She made cute poses and blew kisses to her fans. Her live recording was everywhere and it got thousands of likes on Instagram.
In the second round, she wore a blue long sleeved crop top with blue sleek pants. She wore bracelets and necklace made of real emeralds. And in the final round, she wore a red and black stripped armless gown which trailed like a train behind her. All the dresses became inspired by youngsters and Isla grew a bigger fandom.
"Woah! I'm so tired!" She threw herself on the sofa.
"You need rest." Cade brought her a cup of milk.
"Thank you, Cade. But this is not what I need. I need my favorite wine." Isla said breathlessly.
"Drink this first."
"I don't need it!" Isla went to the mini bar and grabbed the wine bottle herself with two elegant wine glasses.
"Drink with me Cade! I need to celebrate my fame!" Isla filled wine in each of the bottles.
"Expensive wines like these are not filled to the brim. They are sipped." Cade tried to correct her.
"Is it because of the alcohol content? I can stand it." Isla boasted.
"You're acting drunk already." She smiled.
"I'm not drunk." She started gulping the wine, and in seconds, the glass was empty.
"Ahh! Refreshing." Isla hit the glass hard on the table. She was already tipsy.
"Drink up, Cade."
"I'm okay."
"No you can't be." Isla placed the glass on his lip.
"Please."
"I have laundry to do." Cade collected the wine and placed it on the table. He left her there.
"Are you leaving me again, Cade?" She sounded like a tragic movie female lead who has been abandoned so many times.
"I have work to do. We'll chat when you're okay."
"Umh." Isla relaxed and let out a belch.
"Ew."
When Cade was back to the living room, Isla was on the ground. She had taken off her shirt and had only a tube top on. He stared at her belly button.
"Why, Isla? Why do you have to be such a mess?" He hissed and tried to lift her. He placed her arms on his shoulders gently and lifted her. Isla clung onto him and tightened her grip.
"Babe..." His heart pounded immediately she called him that, in her drunken state. Supermodel, Isla Sinclair was in his arms, with her boobs resting in his broad chest. He admired how fragile she felt. She was warm and soft. The stench of the wine was all over her, but that didn't hide that honey and flower fragrance.
"What are you saying, Isla? I'm not Brian." Cade joked as he climbed up the stairs with her.
"Why are you lying to me, Brian? You're playing one of your silly pranks on me again." Isla faked a frown.
"Its not a prank. I'm Cade, your house manager."
"Who the hell is Cade? I don't want to believe that." Cade felt that he wasn't supposed to be doing this. His hands weren't supposed to be on her bare skin. He was being wrong.
They got to Isla's room and Cade threw her roughly on the bed.
"Wait..why are you in such a hurry?" She bluffed.
"I'm not Brian, I'm Cade, and I have other things to do." He tried to make Isla understand, but she made him sit beside her.
"Oh. Oh!! Silly me! Its you, Cade. Brian's dead." She suckled on her teeth.
"Arrgh!! Too bad. Cade. Cade. Whose phone is this?" She blinked a few times and stared at the phone in curiosity.
"Its mine." Cade clenched his fist on the phone and Isla snatched it. As she turned it on, she tried to widen her eyes in surprise.
"Wha...what? Its my picture! The one I took during the Sydney Fashion Week three years ago." Isla stared at the wallpaper with a smile. Cade was a little embarrassed.
"Cade..." She gave him a fierce look.
"Why do you have me as your wallpaper?" Isla bit her lower lip seductively.
"You're a celebrity, so I don't see it as anything."
"True." Isla tried to sit up but fell back on the bed.
"I feel offended. You should take my picture down. Am I your celebrity crush?" Isla sounded annoyed.
"Something like that." Isla smiled for a few seconds. Then she let out a round of mocking laughter.
"Cade. You've always been acting like you hated me."
"I don't hate you. I only hate the fact that you always want to be noticed. I hate the fact that you're a celebrity. I hate the fact that you're rich and spoiled. You're perfect just the way you are. You're better off without money or fame."
"No. Brian used to tell me that I would never be who I was, without money or fame. I am a celebrity, and Brian loves me because I'm one. Am sure that wherever he is, he'll really wanna kiss me and tell me how much he values me." Isla's eyes were closed.
"Your husband loves you because you're popular. He would never have married you if you were some poor wretched girl."
"Yes. He would never marry me. And if he didn't, such a kind soul wouldn't have died like that. Being unmarried is hella boring. I feel like I'm drowning in my pains all alone. Even when I have good news, there's no one to share it with. We live in this house together, but you're always far from me. Cade, if you like me so much, then you shouldn't stay away. If we can't fall in love, we can fall in lust." Cade turned around to look at her. Her hair was scattered on the bed. Her eyes were red, but still captivated him. Staring at her lips made him weak, and her honey and flower scent could cover up the wine smell.
"So kiss me. What are you waiting for? Are you scared?"
"I can't - "
"I'm just like your celebrity crush, isn't? It would be a dream come true. Just do it." Cade leaned in slowly, pinning her wrists to the bed and Isla closed her eyes. Their lips touched, and Cade brushed his lips on Isla's. It felt like a warm bonfire was set right in front of her.
"Cade, c'mon. Properly." He let go of her wrists and left the room silently. Isla passed out even before she could call out to him.
"Ugh!! I've got a spinning head!!" Isla cried out as she relaxed on the dining chair.
"An hangover, call it that." Cade tried to correct.
"Right. I got drunk last night out of celebration! I hope I didn't make any mess..." Isla was disturbed.
"Not really. You sounded realistic, you were sounding plain, like someone who never had anything to drink. You're so intelligent, Isla."
"Hm. Don't play on that intelligence then. How could I have said anything meaningful? You know what, whatever things I must have said to you, I really didn't mean it. I'm sorry." Isla apologized.
"What you're telling me now is, you don't remember any of the things you said?"
"I can't remember what happened after I got drunk, Cade. Don't ask me tricky questions." Isla got up and walked slowly on the stairs.
"Breakfast is ready."
"I know." She held on to the banisters tightly.
"I think I had more to drink after that glass." She said to herself as she headed to her room.
Isla was busy on the internet, and few hours later, the finalists were posted on the modeling society platform.
Natasha Jackson from California
Harper Loom from Chicago
Victoria McKindry from Dallas
Olivia Jux from Houston
Isla Sinclair from Illinois
"Wow. Great news." Isla chuckled.
"Judy wouldn't have made it to the finals." She recalled the scene of Mrs Amarah Bourgeois and her crazy mom.
"Rhea Sinclair is a witch. How could she care so much about Judy Keen that she wants these opportunities for her?" Isla's thoughts were interrupted by a persistent knock.
"Cade?"
"Rhea Sinclair is in the living room."
"What? My mom?"