Late

Zoey's POV… Tuesday, April 10th

Paris, France

"Shit I'm late!" I huffed as I flagged a taxi down in the pouring rain. I got inside, slamming the door behind me, then told the driver to take me to 702 Park St. While checking my appearance in the small compact mirror that I had in my camera bag, I heard the other back door swing open. Glancing over to my right, I see a handsome, well-dressed, and tall Asian man slide onto the seat next to me.

"Hello!" I greeted him with a warm smile.

"Take me to 702 Park St!" He also instructs the cab driver.

"Maybe he didn't hear me," I surmised as I prepared to speak to him again a little louder than the last time. "Hi…"

"I heard you speak to me the first time." He rudely answers me back without even bothering to look in my direction.

"Well fuck you asshole," I mumbled under my breath before I plugged my earphones into my ears. I began to search through the dozens of songs that I had downloaded onto my phone. I finally came to my favorite song by K. Mitchell "You've Got The Right One." Soon as the upbeat tempo of the song bellowed through my headphones I immediately began to bob my head up and down and singing the lyrics off-key out loud.

Every once in awhile I would notice Mr. Asshole giving me the evil eye which only egged me on to sing even louder just to antagonize the hell out of him. His gorgeous face contorted into an angry one, the moment, my voice echoed inside the small taxi. With a smile plastered on my face, I sent Mr. Uppity Asshole a flirty wink while I openly stared at him with no shame.

"Did Mr. Uppity Asshole just smile back at me?" I asked myself when the taxi came to a complete stop in front of our destination. I watched tentatively as he got out of the car in the pouring rain. He stood with the door open with a black umbrella open peeking into the car at me. "Oh, how sweet of him," I thought until he smiled wickedly at me as soon as I closed the taxi door. The minute the car pulled off he jogged across the street leaving me standing there with my mouth gaped wide open.

"Asshole" I yelled out loud to his retreating back. By the time that I made it into the tallest skyscraper building, I've ever seen I was soaking, wet. This building was owned by the Richest family in Paris. Their fashionable clothing designs were known all over the world. Rumor has it the eldest son inherited his parents mega-million dollar empire. Rumors were also spreading that he was a mean, cold-hearted son of a bitch. He was nothing like his younger sister and brother. I peered at my reflection in the shiny glass window for a few seconds before proceeding to the bathroom with my huge camera bag hanging off my right shoulder

"I have a few minutes to make myself look presentable," I mumbled to myself after checking my watch. Digging in my lime green camera bag I retrieved the clothes which I had placed in my bag a few days ago, that my nana had forced me to purchase during a small shopping spree for her birthday. The pink, thin silk blouse stopped a few inches below my navel and a pair of black, skinny legs slacks hugged my tiny waist perfectly. "Thank you, nana." I silently muttered to myself when I saw a pair of light pink stilettos inside the bag.

Taking my wet hair out of the now messy high ponytail, I let my curly locks hang freely down my back while tucking a few stray strains behind my ears. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, I wiped the remaining droplets of water off my face along with the smeared eyeliner. Looking at my watch once again I groaned because I had no more time to spare to fix my appearance. As I rode the elevator up to the tenth-floor excitement plowed through me. I couldn't believe that I was about to come face to face with the richest family in Paris.

When the elevator slides open I see dozens of high maintenance people milling around the extravagant and immaculate clean space. The walls were painted in a satin pastel purple and the shiny white marble floor complimented it perfectly. The floor was so shiny and clean that I could see my reflection staring back at me. As I looked around, I noticed that this floor was enormous with dynamic floor to ceiling windows that showcased a spectacular view of the entire city.

Small, white comfy chairs were placed in discreet places throughout the vicinity for customers that wanted to rest a bit. I could see why it was reserved for the wealthy one percent. It held the most expensive male and female designer clothes and shoes that were designed by Rachel Wong herself. While checking the place out a gorgeous red forming fitting dress caught my attention. My fingers effortlessly glide across its soft and silky material. "Damn this dress is beautiful!" I say out loud to no one in particular.

It can't hold a candle up against you beautiful!" I hear come from a handsome stranger with sea-green eyes staring at me like I was his last supper. The smothering look that he was sending my way was creeping the hell out of me. Thanking him politely for his compliment I backed away from him slowly and continued to my appointment.

I walked along the winding corridor that led to a desk in front of a massive double door. Many females began to stare at me with disgust evident in their eyes. "Are you lost, Miss?" A lady with red hair and a nose so sharp that she could use it as a weapon to ward off an attacker asked me. Her uppity attitude immediately reminded me of Mr. Asshole from a few moments ago.

"How in the hell does one walk into the tallest, most expensive building then take the elevator up to the tenth floor and not know where in the fuck they are?" I pointedly asked while glaring at her.

"Your kind doesn't belong here!" A pale white-haired, frumpy old lady sneered at me.

I was getting very tired of these uppity, ass rich people treating me like trash today. Choosing to take the high road, I walked away ignoring her racist remarks. 

"How may I help you?" A young female with tiny freckles and long blonde curly hair sitting behind the desk in front of the double doors asked me.

"I'm here to do a photoshoot with Mr. Wong," I state pointing at the Sunny Days Photography logo on the front of my lime-green camera bag in bold black letters.

"Hi, Mrs. Larson!" She greeted me with a smile while extending her right hand out towards me.

"Nice to meet you too Tiffany," I say after reading her name off her nameplate.

"You can have a seat over there while I inform Mr. Wong that you are here for the photoshoot," Tiffany says, pointing at a few comfy empty chairs beside the door. The two ladies that made it their business to let me know that I was not welcomed there kept prancing around back and forth in front of me like vultures.

"Mrs. Larson, Mr. Wong will see you now." I hear Tiffany says interrupting my mission to beat someone ass if they kept fucking with me.

"I'll be right with you in just a moment." A deep familiar voice echoed in the room, as soon as Tiffany closed the door behind me.

"Take as long as you need!" I said, admiring the warm decor of the room. The expansive windows allowed the room to be flooded with the right amount of bright light that reflected off white floors. The ceiling was covered in many miniature oval-shaped light fixtures. 

A large, dark cherry wood desk sat in the middle of the room on top of a beautiful handwoven black and white zebra-striped rug. A matching cherry finish bookcase was nestled in between two doors behind the desk. The room smelled like cherry wood finish and a mixture of sweet-scented vanilla. 

A loud tapping noise drew my attention towards the doors behind the desk. "Hell nah, my luck can't be this damn bad." I expelled into the room when out walked Mr. Uppity Asshole himself from behind one of the closed doors.