Prologue
Okay, so she was hiding, Bella admitted to herself, but after two hours of her date and every other man in the place trying to paw at her all she wanted to do was slip away unnoticed, and so far, she’d managed to do it. After all, she wasn’t the one to be the center of attention or remotely comfortably dressed thanks to her sister’s decision to choose orange as her bridesmaids’ dress color, a color that did absolutely nothing for her. She’d also gone with a style that looked fabulous on the rest of their sisters, with their tiny busts and short frames but on her slightly more feminine—all right, more than slightly—shape it simply pointed out yet again the differences between her and her three sisters.
The bride today was her twin, not identical by any means. Izzie, or Isabella as she wanted to be known as now, was barely five-five with their mother’s dark hair, dark eyes, and olive colored skin thanks to their mother’s Latin heritage, while she took after her great-grandmother from head to toe, if you added ten inches at least. Her skin was fair, her eyes blue-green, the color of the sea, her hair was platinum, naturally, and thick, able to hold any style until it was washed out. The biggest difference between her and her sisters was her height. Bella was just barely under six foot, standing at a breath’s space between the three-fourth and six foot mark, but if her hair was piled on top of her head or had any volume she pushed over and towered above the rest of the family.
She leaned back against the wall and sighed before looking down and adjusting for the millionth time the deep v of her dress, she had half a roll of doubled sided tape stuck all along the edge, but she still felt like she was going to fall out of it. She could gladly kill Izzie for choosing the style, but she’d done it simply to annoy her, expecting her to complain and fight with her.
She hadn’t given Izzie that satisfaction. In fact, she wasn’t even speaking to her anymore.
She’d told Izzie her piece and Izzie had ignored her, insisting that she and David were in love, blissfully so, and that she wasn’t going to listen to her jealous, insecure, promiscuous sister. After that, Bella hadn’t bothered, if Izzie wanted to believe David was the one for her, and at a vastly immature twenty-one she highly doubted that her sister even remotely knew who the one really was, she’d let her make her own mistakes. After all, Izzie had never bothered to help her out so why should she help Izzie?
She wasn’t bitter about the rift in her family, disappointed, yes but bitter, no. She’d lived with it all her life and it was natural now. She simply didn’t have to let it control her anymore.
She’d always been tall for her age and the odd one out. Summer vacations were horrible because they were typically spent at the beach and while her sisters could slather on sunscreen and go play outside all day long, twenty minutes out in the sun left her red, blotchy, and burnt.
Then they’d turned thirteen and she’d shot up and parts of her shot out and suddenly she was the one being noticed annoying Izzie because she wasn’t in the spotlight. It got to the point where Bella left the private school they attended, deferring the rest of her education to home schooling while she gained fame as a model, with her manager acting as parent, friend, and career organizer while Izzie excelled in school.
For a while Bella pushed herself in her modeling in order to get her parent’s attentions, try and get them to see that she was worth their time. They never had, and she’d finally had to accept that to her parents, looks and modeling were wastes.
Her family regarded the mind as the only true measure of worth and though managing to get a healthy scholarship, they funded Izzie’s whims for anything she wanted while refusing to help her with a single penny of her own school costs. Thankfully, she’d been smart enough to put her faith and money in her godfather and neighbor’s financial company and she had managed to grow her portfolio and pay for every bit of her undergraduate degree and her masters, though none of her family knew she’d already earned it.
Bella finished her high school requirements at sixteen and began taking courses online as she travelled, graduating with her degree two years ago before settling down and completing her master’s in public relations two months prior. Her family went all out celebrating Izzie’s graduation with her history degree and her engagement to David, but she hadn’t gotten so much as a ‘how’s it going’ regarding her own educational pursuits. After all, her ads were still coming out so obviously she’d given up her idea of obtaining a real education.
Honestly, she wouldn’t even be here, let alone be in the wedding party, had her parents not been worried that it wouldn’t look right; appearances were everything to them, despite their aversion to using physical appearances for anything. She’d give the party another ten minutes then slip out and back home to her cozy little apartment—all right, maybe it wasn’t so little, but it was hers and only hers.
“Must be my lucky night,” a deep voice with a thick accent sounded behind her and she closed her eyes hating that someone had discovered her hiding place, especially one who appeared to be as obnoxious as the ones she’d been hiding from. “I was wondering if you’d sign my centerfold…”
She turned around slowly, a grin crossing her face when the voice and the mocking tone became clearly American as he dropped the charade.
“Tyler,” she said shaking her head as he wrapped her up in a huge hug.
“Good to see you Arabella…”
“Don’t call me that,” she stated with another grin. “I’m just Bella here.”
“Well, just Bella…”
“Ha, ha, ha.”
“If you don’t wipe that frown off your face someone might think you’re jealous that your non-model sister is getting married before you,” he teased.
“Jealous would indicate that I want to get married,” she told him flatly, “which I don’t. Honestly, if Izzie, sorry Isabella, wants to ruin her life by marrying that—never mind.”
“That what? Come on Bella you can tell good old Tyler.”
“Old may be right, but good…?” she joked.
“You always do that you know.”
“What?”
“Make a joke when something serious is being discussed. Why do you think Izzie’s ruining her life marrying David?” Tyler asked her, staring her down until she spoke.
“Come on Ty, she’s twenty-one, she doesn’t know she’s going to love him forever. Hell, she doesn’t know what love is…none of them do. I tried to warn her, and she told me to stay out of it. She didn’t want my debauched morals disturbing her superior ones.”
“Ah yes, because you’re such a loose woman,” he said kissing her forehead.
“Naturally, after all I’m a model and use my body to earn money; I swear they think I’m a stepdownfrom a prostitute…”