Temptation: The Illusion

Ch- 1 It all started from here...

"I am glad to announce this," Carter Cole, my boss and the head of our team smiled as his blue eyes assessed each one of us separately, taking his time. He was melodramatic half of the time and reminded me of that character...now what was his name? Ah...Caesar Flickerman of  the Hunger Games with his idiotically purple died hairs and weird piercings despite the fact that he was well over forty. But he was really good boss and all of us adored him. 

"That our team has proudly bagged the most profitable clients for this year," He continued. "With the likes of Joshua Goodman, Ben Amerthy, Linda Sileverstone, Diamonds & Rubies  Inc etc etc  and which was why the higher  management has decided to offer each one of us, a significant raise with added benefits starting from the beginning of the next financial year!" 

"Oh damn!" Sitting beside me, Olivia Cordoso my close friend and roommate cried, clapping her hands and the rest of the eight members of our team followed suit, cheering and bellowing loudly at the news. Olivia winked at me and I smiled brightly. 

Raise...what an amazing word was that! 

"I deserve the biggest raise, Carter!" I said once everyone quietened down. "I handled Linda Silverstone...she was a pain in my ass!" 

"I bet she liked your ass!" Robert, my colleague chimed in, natural for his perverted character. "I do,"  This guy annoys the bejesus out of me with his snide and inappropriate comments. But I being modest, prefers to take the high road and ignore him. Olivia was not me. 

"f**k off, Rob! Don't you have anything better to do?" She came to my rescue and I rolled my eyes at him as well. 

Douchebag...

"What? Its a compliment!" Robert protested. "She has a nice ass. Almost like Kylie Jenner!" 

Okay...that was exaggerated. I was curvy, I'll admit that but Kylie Jenner was next level. I admired her for sure but I don't want that sort of body. Seemed like a big baggage to me. 

"Ah! Cut the crap!" Carter snapped, thumping on the table. "Well, that was all. Keep up the good work you guys! Let the dollar comin, ya! Oh...Olivia how's the PR for that artist going? What was his name? Its weird..." 

"Tristan Jacques," Olivia answered. "Yeah, its pretty good. His first show opens today at Seattle Art Museum. Things are looking pretty promising,"

"Good...good," Carter nodded. "Make sure you attend it since you are handling his PR. He is a really big shot even if he has a medieval name. A lot of other firms wants him too. It will give a good impression for the company if you add a personal touch and also...well that's that," He laughed to himself and shook his head.

What was that?

Olivia made a face, clearly not seeing that one coming at all. The way she was dressed up, I was sure she have a date tonight. Olivia was Brazilian so there was no point in explaining her exotic beauty. She was tall and leggy with flawless dusky skin, razor sharp features and long straight brown hairs. No wonder she has dated some really prominent men in the short span of her career in public relations. Beauty was a very powerful weapon. And also that was the perk of this field of public relations. You can really broaden your social circle with the variety of people that you deal with in regular basis. That was what attracted me to this job in the first place. 

I worked at a well known PR firm in Seattle and I loved my job and the life that came with it. Almost like Samantha Jones from s*x and the City but not that exaggeratedly flashy for sure. At twenty five, I had a pretty good life. Not too high end but I was satisfied. The only thing that I didn't have in my life was a man but that didn't bother me much anyway. I had no time for all that. A few flings and one nighters here and there and that was satisfactory enough for me. 

"Be prepared with the agenda for the next month," Carter said, dismissing the meeting. Everybody nodded and then one by one dispersed back to their respective jobs. 

"Mia...Mia, my darling!" Olivia , hugged me from the back  as soon as I was back on my desk and I instantly knew something was definitely up. She doesn't do coy.  And this was excessively coy then could be digested. I narrowed my eyes at her and her ruby red lips stretched up in a wide smile. 

"What? What is it?" I inquired, folding up my arms. "Spit it out fast," 

"Please...please can you go to the art exhibition at Seattle Art Museum in my place? For Jacques Tristan's exhibit?" She urged, giving me her best doe-eyed look. "I have a date tonight...can't miss! Please?" 

"Nope...no way!" I threw my arms up in the air and shook my head. "I hate art exhibits and stuff like that and he is your client...I don't even know anything about it or him. And neither am I dressed for something like that. Nope...no," 

"You are a babe," Olivia flicked my bangs delicately. "Please...just this one time! I will do laundry for a week. You don't have to do anything at all. Just roam around a bit, show some interest and then leave in half an hour. That's all ,"

"But!" I protested but of course tenacious Olivia wasn't having it. She can be annoyingly persuasive at times. It was admiring in our field of work but if she uses her talent to manipulate innocent people like me, then that's plain abuse. 

"Please...its just half an hour," She begged again. "Plus, if it helps...Tristan is really hot. Maybe half an hour can turn into one night, huh?" 

Really...

"He is forty five years old," I pointed, staring at his file that Olivia threw at me. "At least that's what it says here," 

"Trust me," She scoffed. "This guy invented the saying that age is just a number. You will see for yourself," 

"No thanks. I am into older guys but not uncles," I muttered, disinterestedly. "I will go. But you owe me big time, bish. And of course one week of laundry," 

"Yeah...yeah," She grinned and gave me another suffocating to death hug before disappearing somewhere. I can't believe she talked me into filling up for her again. I am going to count from now on as to how many times I have filled in for her!

How can you be so naive Mia? You big big fool!

I glanced at the file with Tristan Jacques written on it in bold and threw it away. I don't need to go into details. I will just go there as a representative, walk around and head back real quick. Tristan Jacques? Who uses the name Tristan these days? The name itself says OLD. I think Olivia is crazy to find a forty-five year old hot. But then George Clooney is hot and he is fifty nine years old. But he's George Clooney so.

What the hell are you even thinking?

"f**k it," I grimaced and got back to my work instead. I have enough pain in the ass clients to deal with. Can't afford to worry about somebody else's.

I tried to realax by picturing the weekend. Just one more day and then it will be here. I could finally relax and have some fun. Maybe I will go play golf with Dad and his new friend. Mom said that said that Dad's friend will be returning from Spain after a really long time and will be coming for dinner tomorrow. Though I have no idea who he was. Mom was adamant about me being there. 

Like why? What am I supposed to do amidst a bunch of old people talking finance and politics?  I want to stay at home and relax. Going to my parents meant my mother's persistent questions about my dating life and her explaining the perks of settling down to me for the thousandth time. I don't understand at all. I have a happy independent life. Now why the hell would I want to get married and let go off all that? And I was just twenty-five years old!

Who gets married at twenty-five? 

"Bummer," I muttered to myself and pledged to focus on my work rather than thinking about inconsequential stuff. 

At precisely eight-thirty, I pulled in front of the Seattle Art Museum and checked myself one last time in the rearview mirror before climbing out. I looked smart in my black pantsuit and nude peep toe pumps. Fishing into my purse, I quickly pulled out my nude lipstick and applied a thin layer. This ought to do. Throwing my id in my pocket, I grabbed my purse and climbed out and made my way inside through the crowd of photographers and media people present to cover the event. 

Belleza del alma ... A Show By Tristan Jacques DAY 1

I stared at the display board with all the details of the show written in shiny golden fonts and made my way towards the direction it pointed. I had no idea art shows were this big a thing. The show will be opening for the next four days over which people can both visit and buy these paintings. People shell out millions of dollars on  stupid paintings and honestly I can't understand the fascination. But that was none of my business. I was a representative here and my job was to ensure that everything goes smoothly. Then I can peacefully go back home and take a long warm soak in the tub. The mere thought energized me immediately. 

"ID please," The security woman said sternly and I had an urge to roll my eyes at her but refrained. After all she was doing her job. Just like I was. 

She gave me a small nod, looking satisfied and I trotted inside to find myself in a palatial posh looking room with excellent lighting just the kind you will generally find in museums obviously. Huge canvasses were displayed here and there and people were gathered in front of them, looking fascinated as they sipped their wine and mingled about. Judging from their looks, the paintings must be good because to me they were just big canvasses splattered with paint. But then, what do I know? 

I grabbed a champagne flute and walked around, looking through the arrangements. Olivia has done a great a job. There were a lot of people present here. Critics, art broker, dealers and a lot of press and media coverage. I had no idea people were so enthusiastic about this subject. Tristan Jacques was going to earn in millions for sure. Or maybe he already does. Because even though I know nothing about art or paintings, I can tell that this guy was not a rookie. He knew what he was doing. All the strokes and lines and even the haphazard splattering of colour seemed well thought and conscious. 

I stared at the canvas with its exquisite and ornate gold frame, painted in vivid red...different hues of red colour. It had a name written in gold beneath the canvas in Spanish and naturally I had no idea what it meant. And couldn't bother either. I wanted to go back home. This place was so... mundane for someone like me. 

"Do you like it?" A strong masculine voice asked, almost making me jump. I turned my head to see a man in a sharp Armani standing beside me. Grey eyes assessed me curiously and his lips twitched up in an almost sympathetic smile. Who was he again? 

"Uh...yeah sure," I shrugged nonchalantly and tried to sound convincing enough. He gave me a short laugh and turned his head back to the canvas, leaving me a little embarrassed within. What was that laugh about? Was that mockery? 

"Not into these stuff, huh?" He gave me a crooked smile after a pause and I blushed. Why did I even bother? I was a pathetic liar. 

"That obvious," I grumbled in disdain and he laughed. I took that for an answer. But who the hell was this guy, again? 

As he assessed the art work, his eyes shinning with pride as if it was his own, I took my time to assess him. He was tall and well-built, with a mixture of black-grey hairs that rather than making him look old, made him look sophisticated. Yeah, this guy looked highly sophisticated. 

"If you are not into art then what drove you here?" He asked, after he was done gawking at the painting of splattered red paint. 

"Oh, well my company's doing PR for this artist, Tristan Jacques but of course you might already know that," I waved my hand and realised that I was just babbling on. This guy was somehow making me nervous. Why though? I don't even know him. Maybe because of his immaculate dressing or his insanely gorgeous looks? 

"So I am here as a representative s***h supervisor," I finished and exhaled in relief. I had no idea that I was holding my breath. 

"Ah...occupational hazard," He joked and I shrugged and gave him a wry smile. He was hot and funny. Rare material for sure. His wife must be really lucky, if he was married. I couldn't see a ring in his finger but the these days people are not much into that tradition anymore. 

"Can say that," I answered and took a long sip of my wine. My throat was practically parched. It was hot today, I decided and has nothing to do with the man standing beside me. 

"But wasn't Olivia Cordoso doing the PR?" He inquired and I nodded my head slightly somehow tranced by the illusionistic painting for a moment. 

"Yeah...yeah she..." I answered but stopped midway as something hit me. "Wait...how do you know Olivia is doing the PR. Do you work for Mr Jacques?"

Shit...Did I screw up? 

"Hmm...can say that," He answered with his mysterious smile. And I inwardly frowned at myself. What's with these half replies? This guy was very unsettling, I decided and had an intense urge to scowl with frustration. Coding and decoding was not really my thing to be honest. 

"Oh well...actually Ms. Olivia is indisposed today so I have to fill in," I replied professionally.

"I see...I hope she is in good health?" He inquired, looking momentarily concerned and I nodded my head in response. She was rocking. That b***h. I am sure she was enjoying her five star dinner somewhere while I was stuck here with Mr-Greek God-half replies, who was intimidating the hell out of me. And it was some feat because PR professionals are not easily intimidated. 

"I hope Mr. Jacques won't mind?" I asked, though even if he does that's not my fault. Olivia will be answerable. 

"You haven't seen him, have you?" Greek God inquired. "Ms?"

"Garner. Sorry...I am Mia Garner," I gave him a flustered smile and extended my hand. "I didn't get the chance to actually. Things just...well happened," 

"That's alright," He smiled and this time it was a full blown knock your senses out smile as he shook my hand. His grip was firm and tight and warm and a tremor ran down my body immediately which I decided to ignore. "I am sure Mr. Jacques won't mind at all," 

"Well, that's a relief..." I laughed nervously. "Can I meet him? Is he here? I would like to introduce myself on behalf of the company and hope to get his feedback about all the arrangements," 

"Sure," He said and nodded his head. "Sure you can meet him," 

"Great! Er...where's he then? Would you mind introducing him, Mr...?" I demanded politely. Once I meet him and exchange pleasantries I am outta here for sure. 

"Well, he is standing right in front of you," He smiled at me, looking exceedingly pleased and my mouth popped open in surprise. 

Holy s**t! 

This was Tristan Jacques? 

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A/N : Hey guys! Here's the first chapter! Waiting for your feedbacks eagerly! And also here are the characters of the story- 

1) Mia Garner- Dakota Johnson (She's my very very very favorite guys!)

2) Tristan Jacques- Eric Rutherford (We saw him in TSWC as Chef Garett but honestly I couldn't find anyone better than him for this role! so I got him back!)

3) Olivia Cordoso- Izabel Goulart

4) Carter Cole- Stanley Tucci 

5) Amelia Garner- Paula Malcolmson (Mia's mother)

6) Mathew Garner- Colin Firth (Mia's father) 

7) Merissa Gil - Eva Mendes

So that's all guys...Since its a two part story I'll add in more characters as they comes in. I hope you like these ones! And I genuinely hope you like the story!

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