Journey To Fortune(10)

By: Dixie Lynn Dwyer

“I’m in Paris, France. I’m in an executive suite fit for a princess,” she said aloud, then giggled before taking another sip of the French wine.

She could see the fields of green grass in the distance, the air crisp and clean and almost magical. Something stirred inside of her. Life was just beginning for her now, at age twenty-four.

She glanced toward the bedside table, noting the time, and the need to get ready for tonight’s event. Instead of roaming through the displays today, as the vendors and craftsman set up, she’d decided to venture off into the city, and find the local artists and what they had to offer. It had been a complete inspiration, as she stopped along the way and drew her own designs, with ideas stemming from what she saw.

Of course people’s tastes were always so different in America, but in New York, the influences of various countries and cultures were accepted and received well.

The Sinclairs were already impressed with the e-mails and pictures she had sent in the last few days. Tonight and the rest of the weekend were hers to enjoy.

She closed the doors to the balcony, locked them, and then stepped down into what was the master bedroom. She grabbed her dress, the one she’d purchased at a lovely boutique about twenty kilometers from Versailles, in Paris. It was a bit expensive, but as she splurged on getting her hair done here, along with a waxing, which led to a manicure and pedicure, she was ready for tonight.

It was crazy, but as she exited the salon, even dressed casually in another outfit she’d purchased in Versailles, she felt sexy, beautiful, and alive. People seemed to notice her immediately. She was so glad she’d splurged, but as she stared at the dress, she began to second-guess the woman at the boutique.

The dress was slim fitting, and totally accentuated her large breasts. Amazingly, she had been so nervous before leaving for Paris, she actually slimmed down a little. Not that she was skinny or even remotely close. She never would be. That was a fact about her body type, but she looked good. She was firm in all the right places and soft where she should be. It made her feel beautiful.

Then, of course, the dressmaker at the boutique talked her into buying some sexy French lingerie. Even after explaining that she was single, and absolutely not in the mood to get involved with another man, the woman spouted words about destiny and the magic of Versailles.

Tia Rose stared at the dress. Perhaps it is a bit too much.

She downed the rest of the glass of wine. She felt her body relax a little.

“Oh, well, I’m in Paris. I don’t know a soul, and I’m leaving in four days.”

She took a step forward and felt her body move seductively across the carpet.

Her confidence was rising despite the years of doubt and lack of self-confidence. She kept repeating the words, “This is the new you.”

“Tonight I live for the moment, for the pleasure of happiness, with no worries, no denials and fears. I will embrace whatever comes my way.”

* * * *

Hudson Ross was walking through the gala. He had to admit that he wasn’t too impressed with what he saw on display. He also didn’t care for some of the people making their way through the event and appearing stuck-up. He was looking at a set of furniture, way overpriced and sort of ugly, if he was being honest. But as he eyed a single standing cabinet, he caught sight of something much more appealing.

It was odd, but her hair, and then the sound of her sweet laughter as she spoke with one of the vendors were what initially drew his eyes toward her. Her back was turned toward him, and Hudson wondered if the front of her was as appealing as the back. Her hips were curved. The dress she wore was snug against them then flared toward the bottom to her calves. She wore black high heels that had a thin stripe of purple on the heel of each shoe. Her legs were gorgeous.

The back of the purple dress was lined on the edges of her skin with a matching purple line of fabric. It appeared to be made of silk, and he assumed she must have purchased it at a local shop in Paris. There was a unique French flair to it. Her skin was creamy and her shoulders bare as well. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, as one of the waiters smiled, winked, and then handed her a glass of wine. She tried to decline, the waiter made a comment Hudson couldn’t hear, but she laughed and then took the fancy glass.

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