The Second Girl (I)

Amber White is a struggling model with a string of failed auditions and a wild partying lifestyle to her credit. Needless to say, she is often used to waking up in unknown hotel rooms after a night of drunken sex.

But when she ends up having a one night stand with famous married movie star Andre Felix Dufort and wakes up to find him having left his cellphone behind with incriminating evidence of his extramaritial affair, will she use it to blackmail him and finally buy her ticket to fame? Or does Andre already have something else up his sleeve?

Things escalate when Andre's wife Dianne begins to realise that something is amiss and Amber finds her life turned upside down when Andre stumbles upon her deepest, darkest secret. The decision before her could change the fate of the one she loves the most...But will Andre really be able to destroy her when he is irresistibly drawn to her, cherishing the memories of their night together?

How far are you willing to go to destroy your enemy? How far are you willing to go for the one you love?

But what if they are both the same person?

Prologue

"Loosen up. Have a one night stand now and then."

- Anonymous

Amber pried her eyes open. Her eyelids felt like they were being weighed down with lead. Her body felt sore and battered and her head ached like a thousand devils. Last night had sucked all her energy right out of her and the terrible hangover was testimony enough.

Finally, after much debate she squeezed an eye open and looked at the decorated cream coloured ceiling. She was lying in bed, naked, swathed in a soft sheet. She ran a finger over the fine sheet.

Million count thread.

Instantly her eyes flew open. This wasn't the type of place she was used to waking up at. Despite her body screaming at her to stay still, she propped herself up ignoring the pain and took in her surroundings.

King size bed, mahogany furniture, the walls were pastel and covered with expensive wallpaper. On a bedside table stood an antique table lamp, an assortment of fruits and Ferroro Roscher chocolates stood neatly stacked nearby. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and the floor was covered in a rich, plush carpet.

I'm in a seven star hotel, Amber thought. Who did I sleep with last night?

Amber White. 22 year old struggling model with a string of failed auditions and a wild partying lifestyle to her credit. Her daily routine consisted of binging on food, promising her landlord that she would pay her rent before the year ended, spending more than she could afford and hanging around Broadway and MidStreet hoping to be picked up by some casting director.

Once a week, she would attend some audition being held anywhere and invariably fail. In the evenings, she would spend her time at the clubs, dancing wildly to the hottest beats and thus often end up going home with guys she had known for less than two hours. This was routine and Amber saw nothing wrong with it.

Having run away from home at 18 to become a model, Amber had spent the past two years doing small odd jpbs here and there. Hers was the carefree life, the life lived in the moment. She seldom thought about tomorrow, let alone the future.

As a struggling artiste, Amber was used to sleeping with men in return for favours. She had come to accept it as a part of her job. To win some, you've got to lose some. Simple.

But what she wasn't used to, was waking up all swathed in a 1000 dollar bedsheet at a seven star hotel. Her crowd mainly consisted of menial directors or drug dealers who had the cash. Simply put, Amber was just one of the thousand girls who came to LA or Nashville every year, hoping to get lucky. And just like those thousands of others, Amber still believed she would strike gold some day. Who cared about the piling bill of debts?

Not her.

But right now, she was busy racking her brain trying to retrieve images of last night. They were fuzzy and smudged, like looking at the world through a veil. Maybe I should have drunk a bit less. I can't even remember who I slept with!

All Amber could recall was that he was tall with a ripping hot body. She knew because she could still feel his taught muscles against her. The touch of his fingers - delicate and intricate, the feel of his lips - lush and passionate. She knew he had a crop of silky smooth hair because she had run her hand through it, intoxicated. He had been wild and ruthless yet tenacious and lustful. It was the best night Amber had had in a long time. And she still couldn't recall his face!

With all his assets, how was I supposed to focus on his face anyway?

Groaning, she slipped out of bed with the sheet around her body. Whoever he was, he was just the same as the others in the end. In the light of the morning, they all left. Escaoing to their wives or girlfriends. Men. Amber shook her head in disgust.

As she was about to cross the bedside table, she saw an iPhone 6 lying on it.

That isn't mine. God bless if I could ever afford one, she stiffled a yawn and picked up the phone and switched it on.

Then she saw the wallpaper and stopped short.

It was a picture of André Felix Dufort and his wife.

Green Eyed Devil

"There's nothing more dangerous than absolute power placed in the hands of a woman."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

André Felix Dufort looked into the mirror as he effortlessly buttoned the cufflinks of his Armani tuxedo. Today was a big day. It was the charity event of an orphanage cum adoption centre he had inaugrated a few years ago and regularly contributed to.

He cast one last look at the one day old styled stubble, the ice blue eyes, the slick laid back hair and muscular body that stood out even in formal wear. Yes, he looked perfect.

"You're late again," a condescending voice accused him. André turned around to face his wife - Dianne Dufort. Elegant, dignified, every man's dream. Until you knew her as well as André did.

"I'm almost done, dear. Inform the chauffeur, will you?" He smiled forcibly and watched as his wife gave a curt nod and gracefully walked away, her silk dress swishing around her ankles.

Looking at her, he felt a wave of guilt stab him. He loved Dianne. He always had. Then why the hell did he end up having a one night stand with some random slut? She had even swiped away his phone!

Damn. If Dianne were to ever find out, their already fragile marriage would be done for.

--------------------------------

Amber looked bewildered at the phone in her hands. Is this for real? Did I really spend the night with André? God, is this your way of being funny?

Everybody knew who André Dufort was. The French man who had entered Hollywood and taken the industry by storm. His first movie "100 Days of Misery", about the life of a struggling artist had been an instant hit. He had played the lead role and within days half of the women in US were swooning over his suave walk and smooth charming manner.

He was touted by the tabloids as the next DiCaprio or Depp. His rise to success was tremedous and rapid. Within 6 years he had carved a niché for himself as one of the most wanted men in Hollywood.

The only lament his fans had was the fact that he was married. André Dufort had come to America from Paris along with his childhood sweetheart and the two had married soon after.

Most would say Dianne was a lucky woman to have a man like André. Only Dianne knew the cost of being Mrs. Dufort.

André had built a clean image for himself over the years, abstaining from drugs, alcohol and had quit smoking as soon as fame had startes following him. He wasn't a ladies man by nature. The tabloids were full of praise for the hottest man in NYC who had eyes only for his wife.

"Until yesterday," Amber said aloud and then a smile crept on her face. Laughing, she began scrolling through the pictures on his phone.

With wife, with wife, with fellow co-actor, co-actor...what?!

She stopped short and stared incredulously at the last picture. It was a fuzzy picture of herself and André, taken at a jazzy night club. He had his arm around her shoulder and they were laughing and yelling something, looking clearly stoned.

He must've been very drunk to have ended up having a one night stand, Amber thought.

And then, inch by inch an idea crept into her mind.

What if I...? No, that's too selfish...but if I...

Grinning, she saved a copy of that picture in her phone as well and checking out of the hotel, headed in the direction of the bearest phone booth.

André Dufort sighed for the umpteenth time as his wife screamed at him to get ready.

It's a charity event for God's sake! I have to look my best! He screamed at her internally. Pulling on his shoes, he was about to step out when the landline began ringing.

Great timing, he thought as he picked it up, "Hello?"

"Can I speak to Mr. Dufort?" A vaguely familiar female voice asked.

"That's me," André answered.

"André! I was wondering if we could meet up somewhere," the woman said.

"Why? May I know who you are?"

"You know me. Though I doubt you remember me. We spent laat night together."

André cluctched at the table to prevent losing his balance.

"You...you, how did you get my number?"

"You left your cellphone Mr. Dufort. I only want to return it."

"I'll send one of my men. You can give it to him," André said trying to sound assured. Keep calm. I can't believe she had the nerve to call! What if Dianne had picked up? The bitch!

"No, we need to meet face to face. There is something we need to talk about."

I have a reputaion to maintain. I can't be seen hanging around someone like you, André thought, "That would be improbable."

"Mr. Dufort, if you want your cellphone back, you shall have to meet my terms. The HHI Lodge, 7PM. I'll book a suite in your name so that we can meet in private. Good day."

The woman slammed down the receiver. André cursed and made his way to the car.

"What took you so long?" Dianne complained, "It's your event and you can't even be on time."

André didn't bother replying. He was busy thinking.

Amber crossed her legs and waited patiently for the scape goat to arrive. A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth when she saw André Dufort arrive, swathed in a scarf and wearing black shades to prevent being recognized.

The perils of being a star, Amber smiled inwardly. This would be a very interesting meeting.

André Dufort took off his glasses. It had been difficult enough to come here without making Dianne suspicious. Just a minute and he would be out with his cellphone. He wouldn't even have bothered if it hadn't been for all the important contacts stored on it. The waiter let him into a five star suite. He opened the door and stopped short.

She was sitting at the sofa wearing a black knee length outfit, her hair carefully curling downwards. A fur coat lay beside her as she tapped her foot impatiently.

This was the woman on the phone? This was the woman he had screwed last night? God forbid, she was beautiful. Her jade green eyes peered maliciously at him and yet he found them somehow beguiling. He could clearly see she was setting up a trap and yet, he wanted to be trapped by this woman.

"André Dufort," he managed and extened a hand as way of greeting.

She didn't bother take it. "Amber White. I know you're a busy man Mr. Dufort. So let's get down to business, shall we?"

André nodded and took the seat oppisite her, a table seperating them. Amber uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. André found himself unconciously staring at them.

"Here's the cellphone you had left behind," she said offering him his phone.

"Thank you," André said, "You have been most kind. About what happened last night-"

"It's alright, Mr. Dufort," Amber interrupted him, "You know, I'm a struggling model. You certainly aren't the first man I slept with. I have met many like you. Men who get tired of their lives, who want a night of respite from their nagging wives."

Nagging wives? Is she kidding me? André thought. I love Dianne! You're going too far, girl.

"Miss White," he began, "I think you're mistaken. I'm not like them. I love my wife."

"That's what they all say," Amber smirked. "It's okay, Mr. Dufort. You can be honest with me." Amber placed a hand on his outstretched palm across the table. "One night stands happen. It's natural."

"You don't understand," André took a deep breath trying to hold on to his anger. What was this bitch implying? That he was one of the many sleazy men in the industry who exploited women and had affairs? He wasn't! He loved Dianne and this had been a complete mistake. He had been waaay too drunk. That was it.

"I'm a family man, Ms. White," he said calmly, "I love my wife. But more importantly, I have an image to maintain. I have never been involved in a scandal and I don't intend to start now. So I want you to be clear on the fact that we will never speak of this ever again."

"That, I'm afraid I can't do," Amber gave an apologetic smile.

"What?!" André slammed his fist on the table. This girl was infuriating! "What are you trying to say? Do you want to ruin me?"

"Of course not, Mr. Dufort," Amber seemed unfazed by his outburst. She seemed to be expecting it. "If you would care to go through the pictures on your cell, you would see what the media calls a 'solid evidence'. If that picture of you and me were to ever be revealed, nothing I or you said would repair the damage to your name. I have a copy on my cell here. And it's quite clear so don't even bother trying to deny it."

Amber flashed the picture at him and watched with satisfaction as the demure and sophisticated Mr. Dufort battled for calm. He was itching to hit her, she knew.

"However, I am willing to keep shut for a price," Amber added mischievously.

"How much is that?" André asked in barely concealed anger. Women like you disgust me, Amber White.

"It's not a sum. I just want you to secure a role for me, even a small role will do, in your next movie," Amber smiled. "I'm struggling so I need all the help I can get."

So that was her intention. Power play. Manipulating men to rise in the industry.

He looked at her long and hard. She was a tough one, he'd give her that. She didn't seem the slightest bit fazed by his stare. Instead she looked assured and at ease.

André shook his head in defeat. Amber White was a green-eyed devil, and she knew how to play her cards right. Andre sighed, "I accept."

Life at Cheapside

Amber White was in high spirits. Four years of struggle and her life finally seemed to be going the right way. Taking a deep breath, she went back to her small apartment in a corner of Cheapside which she had rented with two other women - Brenda and Joyce. Brenda was rarely home.

Joyce was a burly African-American woman in early thirties. She worked as a waitress but her main job was somewhat that of a pimp. Things like these were common enough at Cheapside where whores roamed free and druggies ruled the streets. Amber knew for a fact that Joyce had more than enough cash to move into an upscale NYC apartment, but preferred Cheapside because it provided her with a low profile life.

Amber threw her bag on the floor and flopped down on the bed. Joyce looked up from her laptop.

"Had a nice night out?" she grinned.

"Life changing," Amber grinned back, "How's the business going?"

"Tough," Joyce said putting a cigarette between her lips, "What's gotten into these girls? I pick 'em from the streets, I teach them the art of survival and them give 'em a job. And once they has enough, they jus' run away!"

"Poor girls, they don't realize how tough the world outside is," Amber sympathized and thought, Of course they want to run away! Who wants a life like that?

"Say, Amber," Joyce said looking at her, "You got any big time plans?"

Of course I do, I'll soon have enough money to move out of this hell hole and...

Tears threatened to spill over as sudden memories came unbidden.

No, don't think of the past now. Sofia...NO, Amber, focus!

"Nope, nothing big," she replied.

"That's good," Joyce nodded approvingly, "At least you aren't like those airheads, thinking they can make it big in this industry."

"Well, some do make it big," Amber argued.

Joyce turned to face her and looking straight into her eyes said, "No, honey. Once you enter Cheapside, you never leave. You either die here or you're hunted down."

Amber shivered at her tone.

"You better not be plannin' on leaving," Joyce warned, reading her mind, "If you've got any stupid plans, drop them before DO gets news of them."

____________________________________________

As cold water of the shower rushed down her body, Amber tried to clear her head.

What have I gotten myself into?

Joyce, she could deal with. But what about D.O.? D.O., for those who didn't know was the man who owned half of Cheapside, he was the man behind every shady deal, every drug operation, every booming night club in business. He was the master puppeteer of Cheapside on whose fingers the entire crowd danced. If you ever displeased him, God save you.

Amber happened to be one of his many cronies. D.O. had realized early on that Amber's beauty could be of use when sealing in drug deals. When D.O. asked for a favour, nobody had the courage to refuse. And as a result, Amber had ended up being wound up as a member of his gang, offering assistance with his deals, sleeping with rivals to extract information or seducing men into the path of drugs.

Despite her wishes, she found herself at the centre of his operations. And like Joyce said - once you're in, you're in. There's no way out. If you do, D.O. hunts you down and makes sure you never spill out his secrets to anyone.

"I don't care what the cost is," Amber thought, "If I can get rid of this life, that will be enough."

It was in this life that Amber was stuck and she wanted out, fast. André Felix Dufort would be her card to freedom.

At first glance, Amber White looked like any other girl living in Cheapside, trying to live her Hollywood dream. But behind her long painted nails, her slim legs and slender waist, she hid a past dark and unforgiving. But unlike others, she wasn't trying to run away from it but rather towards it. Because there were people she had had to leave behind, people she wanted back.

____________________________________________

One of the advantageous things of being a celebrity is that you have a lot of friends in high places. As a result, it wasn't difficult for André to have a side talk with his director and make sure Amber White was given a small side role.

"She's quite beautiful," the director remarked.

She's even better in bed, André thought and immediately scolded himself for such thoughts.

"How do you know her? Is she a good friend?" the director persisted.

"No, of course not," André said, "A friend of mine happened to suggest her and she seems perfect for the role anyway."

And that was how Amber White scored her first movie role.

Talk

"A woman always remembers."

* * *

"Cut!" Alexander Gonzales shouted. "That was a perfect take Amber."

Amber smiled at the plump, mid-50s director. Bagging this role was probably the best thing that had ever happened to her. It was her first time on the scene of a movie shoot and she was enjoying the constant activity around her. Gonzales was forever screaming, busboys kept running here and there, the cameras kept whirring and the light technicians and makeup artists rushed around from one actor to another.

"You may leave now," a busboy told her. Amber nodded and was about to leave when suddenly all activity ceased and a hushed silence fell over the entire team. She nudged a technician nearby, "What's going on?"

"He has arrived!" she replied in an almost reverent whisper.

Amber watched, puzzled as a limousine pulled up before the tent and several attendants rushed to open it. André stepped out, looking every bit a woman's dream even in his rugged chinos and plain T-shirt.

What's with all these actors acting like they own the world, she scoffed inwardly and turned away to leave.

From the other end of the crowd, André's eyes followed her profile and wondered why she had turned away so abruptly.

___________________________________________

André's shoot for the day was a relatively small one. It was over within an hour.

"I shall be leaving now, Alex," he said. He had known Alexander Gonzales a long time.

"Thanks for working hard," Gonzales smiled, "But you really brought a pearl, André. I'm thinking of casting Amber as a lead in my next film. Her looks are unconventional. She isn't your average blonde."

That she definitely isn't, André thought grimly.

"Her eyes are very expressive," Gonzales continued, "I haven't seen anything like her in quite a long time."

André had always considered Gonzales as a father-figure but right now his constant praise of Amber was getting on his nerves.

"I shall leave now," he inclined his head.

"Yeah," Gonzales nodded, "But really, André. Don't think that just because I'm approaching old age, I haven't noticed her curves. Are you sure you knew her only from a friend?"

André whirled around to stare at Gonzales only to realize from his winking that he was joking.

"Haha, don't worry. The world knows how much you are in love with Dianne," Gonzales punched him playfully.

As André walked back to his limo, only one thought plagued his mind.

"The world knows how much you are in love with Dianne"

...Am I?

________________________________________________

André was in for a surprise when he went out and found Amber White waiting for him.

"We need to talk," she said. Despite himself André found his eyes going to the way her dress hugged her slim waist and made it look curvier than it was.

"I thought we already had," he said.

"There's more," Amber said. Andre wanted to say no. But he found himself following her.

They ended up in a restaurant on Broadway.

"Mr. Dufort, when I told you any small role will do, I didn't mean just a ten minute cameo in a two hour movie," Amber said pointedly.

André Felix Dufort was feeling out of his depth. He had known many women, but none like Amber. And try as he might to focus on her words, he found his primal instincts arousing in him thoughts he wanted to forget. Flashes from that night, the feel of her...

"Mr. Dufort?" Amber waved her hand, "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, I am," André cleared his throat, "I did what was possible. You can't expect a nobody like you to suddenly make it to the top."

And instantly regretted what he said. He thought he saw a shade of hurt cross her face but she soon covered it with her trademark smirk.

"Is that so?" she said slowly and placed a hand on his palm kept on the table, "Do you realize how we look like to the world now?"

It took André a moment to realize what she was saying. He was sitting in a restaurant with a woman who was in no way related to him, holding her across the table. If the paparazzi ever clicked a picture of this, there were a million ways in which it could be interpreted.

He jerked his hand back, "Ms. White."

"Amber," she cooed, "Call me Amber."

"Ms. White," André said regardless, "I fail to understand what you want from me."

"Fame."

"I'm not the only actor whom you can use."

"You're the only one I can blackmail, Mr. Dufort."

André sighed. This woman was driving him crazy.

"If I agree to secure you a good role, will you leave me alone?" he asked finally.

"Definitely," Amber said with conviction.

"Alright," André said rubbing his hands together. "Let's begin from your bio-data. Tell me about yourself, your hobbies, your talents, your lifestyle."

"Are you hitting on me, Mr. Dufort?" Amber laughed. André wanted to tell her to draw the line but stopped short as he heard her laugh.

It was the first time he heard her laugh and the pleasant ringing sound reminded him of the spring. Colourful, beautiful spring...and yet somehow it seemed tinged with pain and longing. It reminded him of a warm summer day but with dark clouds on the horizon.

"Okay," Amber leaned forward and fiddled with the spoon, "I'm a struggling model. I live in a corner of Cheapside."

"Cheapside?" André crinkled his nose, "Isn't that the wrong side of New York."

"Well, unless you agree to pay my rent, that's where I'm staying," Amber scowled.

"Alright alright, go on," André said, "But don't your parents send you any money?"

She seemed stunned by this question and it took her a moment to gather her answer, "Well...err -"

"Or did you run away from home to pursue your dream?" André asked playfully.

"Yeah, that," Amber admitted.

"Really?" André was surprised. Seems like we have a lot more in common than I thought.

"I ran away when I was 18...to pursue my dream so in a way I'm pretty much alone over here. That's why I can't let you go. You're the best opportunity I've had in a long time."

André had to laugh at her frank admission and it made him feel at ease. She leaned forward to retrieve the salt and for a second her top fell low, revealing the top of perfectly formed breasts.

In an instant broken images began to resurface in André's mind.

That night he had had a huge fight with Dianne. She was being irrational and unable to take her pretense anymore, he had stormed off, going to the first place that offered him anonymity - a cheap roadside night club near Cheapside.

Amber had been sitting across the bar and the second he saw her, he wanted to do her.

She kept looking at him in this sensuous way, could any man ever have said no?

It had wild, brief, and memorable. Amber was like a tiger in bed, satisfying all his needs. But most of all, it reminded him of what he and Dianne had once shared - the fire, the lust, the passion. It had been so long since he had felt the body of a woman. He and Dianne barely had a physical relationship.

But it was something he regretted...Didn't he?

"That's all about me," Amber said and André realized she had been talking for sometime.

"Y - yeah, that will do. I'll talk to some of my contacts," he said and keeping a few hundred dollar notes on the table said, "Please pay in my place. I have to go."

And André rushed out of the restaurant before his desire consumed him.

______________________________________________

"You're late again," Dianne accused him.

"Sorry, love," André mumbled as he made his way into his room. Yes, he and Dianne had different bedrooms. In their 12 room mansion, Dianne had insisted on getting a separate room for herself. They were husband and wife who had different bedrooms.

"You keep saying that all the time. Sometimes I wonder if I even matter anymore," Dianne sulked and a tear slipped down her cheek, looking as fake and plastic as the rest of her carefully powdered face.

"I don't understand what I need to do to make you believe me," André said exasperated.

Dianne walked over to him in graceful steps, looking like a willow swaying gently in the breeze. Leaning gently over him, she said softly :

"Do you remember the night we had a fight and you stormed off in the middle of it? When you returned home the next afternoon looking all beat up and exhausted?"

His Story

"Do you remember the night we had a fight and you stormed off in the middle of it? When you returned home the next afternoon looking all beat up and exhausted?" Dianne asked.

André gulped. "What about it?"

"I never asked you where you went. Do you think I don't know?" Dianne said slowly.

André turned to face her, "What do you mean?"

"Don't pretend to not underatand, senor!" Dianne screamed, "I'm not blind. You have a mistress, don't you? Who's she?"

Ever since that night - the night that had destroyed their marriage, scarred it pergaps forever - ever since that night, it was the forst time André saw Dianne loose her cool. She screamed and wailed and clutched at his sleeve, begging, "Answer me, André! Qui est-elle? Je vais la tuer!"

"Dianne! There is no one!" André tried to calm her but she was unconsolable. She was in one of her fits and nothing could bring her out to reason. André ended up holding her hands tightly between his own to prevent her from scratching herself and said, "Stop it, Dianne. I wouldn't stoop that low. I don't have a mistress."

Perhaps it was his voice that was not convincing enough. Or perhaps it was just feminine intuition but Dianne gave a weak smile and said in a strained voice, "You're going to leave me, aren't you, chéri? You're going to leave me for her just because I couldn't give you a child."

___________________________________________________________________

André Felix Dufort had been born in the town of Marseilles in France. His father had been a clerk while his mother was a nurse. They never had much but they always had enough. André had grown up in an atmosphere of love and care. Being the only child, he was pampered and spoiled and made to believe he could have anything he wanted. He grew up into a boy with few regards for the feelings of others and feeling superior to everyone. He was selfish and possesive and in lay terms, a complete brat.

From a very young age André had shown an exceptional interest and flair for drama. When his parents enrolled him in St. Claire's School of Arts, he threw a tantrum as to why they didn't admit him into Frances Academy, known for producing exceptional actors. His parents tried in vain to explain that they weren't rich enough to afford such a school.

He berated them for it day and night until on the way to school, he saw HER working in a flower shop with her mother.

Dianne had been the most beautiful child in the family. She had beautiful eyes, soft brown curls that flowed over her shoulder and frail, delicate hands that danced through the flowers like butterflies as she seperated them.

The day André saw her, she was wearing a pale blue frock, her hair lying loose and holding a bouquet of snow white lilies. He knew then and there that this was the girl he was going to marry.

He watched her everyday, never having the courage to approach her until one day, she looked at him...and smiled.

Emboldened, André made his way to the shop and fumbled, "How - how much are these?" He asked pointing at the lilies.

The girl seemed to find his stammering funny and she laughed and said, "I see you standing there everyday. Don't you have anywhere else to be?"

"Not right now," André said and scoffed at himself for being so plain and boring. "I - I'm André."

"Dianne," the girl smiled.

"Don't you go to school?" André asked.

"I'm home schooled."

"Do you spend your entire day in the shop?"

"I like being among flowers. They make the atmosphere really peaceful."

"Will you go out with me?"

"No," Dianne laughed.

"Why?" André asked, heartbroken.

"My parents won't allow me to," she said.

"Then will you wait for me here?" André asked hopefully.

"Everyday," she promised.

From then onwards, he stopped to talk to her everyday. They shared their joy and sorrow, their dreams and tribulations. She would always wait at the counter with a lily in her hand, her eyes constantly scanning the crowd for him.

In the month of June, the rains fell heavy. A chill set into the air and people rarely left their houses unless it was absolutely necessary.

On that day, Dianne still stood at the counter with a lily, though she doubted he would come. She waited for an hour before she finally spotted him rushing through the rain.

"You didn't have to come," she said.

"I had to give you this," he said and laid a single white lily in her hand. The White Lily of the Valley that blossomed only in the rain.

Dianne smiled and that was the day André received his first kiss. It was Dianne who changed him for the better. She was a simple flower girl and her graceful innocence was something André wanted to protect forever. As the years passed, André's flair for acting became evident.

He took part in several plays and dramas and never returned home emptyhanded. In his senior year, he began to make a clean sum by doing small roles in major plays. But André's dreams were bigger than that. At 17, André had his sights firmly set on Hollywood. He joined an english class to learn the language and worked harder than anyone there.

His parents, proud of their son, encouraged him in every possible way.

In the spring that André graduated, he asked Dianne's parents for her hand in marriage. They refused stating that his dreams were wild and he had no stable income.

For the first time in her life Dianne opposed her parents and said she would marry him and no other and she was willing to wait if that's what it took.

When André asked her to go to the US with her, Dianne hesitated.

"I can't leave here, Andy. Marseilles is my home," she said.

"We can make any place our home as long as we're together," André said. But he himself knew he was asking something impossible of her. Dianne was a simple girl, born and bred in a small town. She had seen nothing of the world. She had no big dreams or ambitions, she didn't care for riches or fame. Her only dream was to continue working in her mother's flower shop, be a good wife and eventually a good mother.

"Andy, America is a completely different place with a different culture. It is a place for the rich and famous, the sophisticated and flamorous. Someone like me could never fit in," she said.

"That is why I need you there," André said, "I need simplicity in my life when I'm there. I need to be reminded of Marseilles and its rain and the woman it gave me."

Eventually, Dianne agreed. They both came to the US in the fall next year and got married in a small church in Susexx. But it soon became evident that the US was nothing like France. Glam and glitter lived side by side with poverty. They struggled to make ends meet and Dianne balanced 3 jobs to fuel André's dreams. Sometimes she wondered if she made the right choice, if she chose the right man. But when André returned home and took her in his arms, it all felt worth it.

For the first 4 years, André had to beg for jobs from directors. They spent several nights on the streets, even being mugged once. Everytime Dianne wanted to curl up and cry at the normal life in the France that they could have had, André assured her he would try even harder.

Finally his hardwork paid off and he was offered a role in a Broadway musical. His exceptional talent was instantly recognized and he became a star almost overnight. Things changed drastically for the couple as André grabbed every oppurtunity to climb higher and higher the success ladder.

In the 6th year of their marriage, Dianne announced that she was pregnant. André's happiness knew no bounds and he threw a lavish party for all his friends, even inviting their parents from France who were now proud of their famous son-in-law.

In her third month, André returned home to find Dianne crying over the sink.

"Dianne! What happened?" He asked worrriedly. Her eyes were red and puffy and her beautiful face seemed to have aged years.

"I - I, oh André, promise me you won't hate me!" She hugged him close and wailed into his chest.

"Chéri, I could never hate you. What's the matter?" He asked.

"I - the doctor said I had a miscarriage," she sobbed. André stiffened. No, he kept thinking. This can't be happening.

But he pulled her close and said, "That's okay. We can try again."

Dianne slowly shook her head and said, "André, I - I can't get pregnant."

And in that one statement, André felt his world crumble to pieces.

"Do you hate me now?" Dianne asked. "I'm a disgrace as a woman." André hushed her with a kiss and told her that if anyone could ever embody feminity, it was her.

In the coming months, André resigned himself to the fact that it would be just the two of them forever, unless they decided to adopt. But nothing changed the fact that he loved Dianne.

Until she began to change.

It was slow and steady. Slow enough tmfor André to not notice.

It began with her buying expensive dresses, insisting on holding parties and gatherings, spending thousands on beauty treatments, spas and saunas. Dianne had always been a simple girl. Simply beautiful, simply elegant. In a world coated over with layers of facades, it was her frankness and sincerity that André had fallen in love with. But as a woman, her inability to have kids was something that would haunt her forever.

She began to think of herself as less than other woman. She began to think that André no longer wanted her now that she could not fulfill her maritial duty. She began to believe that the women of New York with their glossy skin and flat stomachs was what André would soon turn to, and she couldn't bear the thought of losing him.

So she tried her best to imitate them, their stance, their voice, their drawl. She spent more and more on herself, turning herself into exactly what André didn't want - a plastic girl.

She insisted on having a seperate bedroom, tried mixing with all sorts of high class women and attended all the exclusive parties. André wanted Dianne to be the reminder of all the beautiful things he had left behind in France. He didn't want her to change. But she did.

Slowly, as a night darkening, a rift came into their blissful marriage. They spoke less and barely of anything deeper than the weather. They rarely made love anymore and André found the woman he loved lost in the crowd of NYC. He would forever regret his decision of moving to the States.

Play

"So I've been working on this script," Aleaxander Gonzales said, "And I'm thinking of casting Amber White opposite you. I think she'll is the perfect woman for this role. What do you think?"

Andre gave a start as he stared at Gonzales. "Amber White? She's not even a veteran actor!"

"I know," Gonzales said, "But have you ever seen her eyes? She might seem like a cocky, inexperienced youngster. But once you notice her eyes, you'll see that there's more to her than just that. That girl has seen pain."

Yes, I've noticed that, Andre thought. But somewhere down the line, he didn't want to work with her. He wanted her as far away from his as possible. She was toxic for him and his marriage. You're the one who is toxic for Dianne, his brian told him but he ignored it. Acting in a movie might always involve passionate scenes and he didn't want a replay of their last night.

"Can't we just focus on the movie at hand now?" Andre said carefully.

"Of course we will. But it's going to release tomorrow. Half the promotions have already been done, there's nothing much for me to do anyway other than just sit and watch. I'd rather like to get working on another project as soon as possible."

Andre regarded the balding man craefully and said, "If she's the female lead, the movie won't garner much attention. Her role in this movie was barely of a few minutes. She was just one of the extras. People won't even remember her face. Do you want to take such a risk?"

Gonzales gave a short laugh, "Andre, do you remeber the first movie you starred in?"

"You directed it," Andre said.

"Exactly. I launched you and look where you have reached now. You think I can't launch a new fresh face? She'll be an instant hit, I know," Gonzales assured him.

But she's from Cheapside, if that gets that it'll mean bad publicity for the film Andre thought, "She'll need a better place to stay then."

"I can easily arrange for that," Gonzales smiled.

______________________________________

"You're leaving Cheapside?" Joyce widened her eyes, "Amber White is leaving Cheapside?"

"Oh c'mon, don't make such a hige issue out of it," Amber said as she sat on her suitcase to shut it.

Joyce puffed on her cigarette and said, "It's not like you're relocating the the other side of the street. You're moving away to upscale New York. How did you even get the money?"

"I had some luck," Amber said vaguely.

"Are you sure about this?" Joyce asked, "Leaving here isn't just leaving me and this crappy apartment behind. Cheapside is like a nation of its own. Leaving here is leaving a place with its own lifestyle. You're too deeply involved with us. It's like you're trying to leave us behind."

That is excatly what I'm doing, dammit! Amber thought and said, "It's alright. I have thought about it a lot."

Joyce looked at her long and hard. Then she turned away and said in a low voice, "You better stay aware. D.O. haseyes everywhere."

"I know," Amber said thoughtfully and waved her farewell. Joyce watched sadly as Amber White cheerfully made her way across the street and rode away ina cab.

Then unwillingly, Joyce picked up the telephone and dailed a number she knew by heart. A man's rough voice answered at the other end.

"Yes?"

"She's gone," Joyce said.

"Saw this coming," D.O. said, "But I'll take care of her." And the line went dead.

Too bad, Joyce thought, I rather liked her. But she brought this upon herself.

__________________________________________________

"This is the script?" Amber asked.

"Yes," Gonzales said as he looked with almost fatherly affection at the girl before him. She was so excited by the thought of starring in a movie she was practically bounding in her seat.

"But we need to be clear on one thing," Gonzales said, "This movie will also feature five other huge stars of our industry so this will be your launch film."

"Uh huh," Amber nodded, "That's alright." She liked this man. He actually wanted her to be the female lead!

"No, you don't get it," Gonzales said, "An actor doesn't get paid for doing a launch film."

Amber choked on her coffee, "Wait, what?!"

"This film is just to introduce you to the public," Gonzales explained, "Think of itas an investment, it might help you secure better bigger roles."

Amber stared at him. I don't like him that much after all, she decided. But then an idea gripped her and she smirked and said, "It's alright. I'll take it."

___________________________________

"You want me to what?!" Andre barked into the phone.

"Convince Gonzales to give me a raise," Amber said smoothly.

"Hey, that's not in my hands, okay? Ask him yourself" Andre said.

"He won't agree. But you've known him for years. Maybe if you pleaded...," Amber trailed off.

"Why do you even - argh, I can't do this over the phone. Let's meet at Charlie's Cafe at 6," he said.

"It's a date," Amber said. He could almost see her wink.

Now why the hell did I have I ask to meet up with her when I could have just as well refused her on the phone? Andre cussed at himself.

Because you wanted to meet her, a part of him said. It's a date, that's what she said. It's not, Andre told himself, I'll simply refuse and be done with it in a minute.

"Who was that?" Dianne asked as she sailed into the room, her face painted over with atleast 10 layers of makeup even though she had been at home all day long.

"A business partner," Andre mumbled and excused himself. Dianne kept looking at the door until a long time after he was gone.

___________________________________

"It's impossible," Andre said flatly.

"You made me come all this way and now you say you can't do it?" Amber sulked. She was wearing a navy blue dress that clung to her figure acentuating it and brinigng out the colour in her eyes. Her hair hung loosely over her shoulder.

"Yes," Andre said. I should have finished this over the phone.

Amber stiffened. She took a long look at Andre and finally flipped her phone out and said, "Have you forgotten what I have in here?"

"Jesus! You're still using that against me?" Andre gasped. He had forgotten all about it.

"Yep," Amber smiled, "Now you better gte working unless you want this picture on every news channel in the country."

Secrets

"Deal?" Amber smiled and extended her hand. André looked at her hand, the long painted nails and the white palm...like an angel's.

She's no angel, André thought grimly.

"You can't keep playing me forever," he said.

"Can't I?" Amber asked with a wink. "You underestimate me, Mr. Dufort.

"No, I am well aware what you're capable of," André acknowledged with a laugh. "Deal," he extended his arm and shook her hand, holding it for a second longer than necessary, an act which made Amber raise her eyebrows at him.

André mumbled something and hurriedly left. Amber returned to her new apartment and settled down with the script.

Wait for me Sophia, she sent a silent prayer to a God she didn't believe in.

______________________________________________

In a dark room in a club in Cheapside sat two men along with a heavy black woman - Joyce.

"I swear I don't know anything else!" Joyce screamed hysterically, her voice quivering. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and her wrist had a few splotchy red marks on them that looked painfully like cigarette burns.

-------------------------------------------------------------

So, what going to happen next? What happened to Amber in her past? Who exactly is Sofia?

To know more, please visit the rest of the story at:

https://www.dreame.com/novel/1973830.html

I've decided to publish the rest of the story on Dreame and I hope you'll continue following the story of Amber and Andre there! Thank you for all the likes, comments and follows.

Love,

Jessica Day.