DRESSES AND GALA DATES
ALEXANDER
I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the strands of my hair as I thought about the encounter with Isabella in the kitchen this morning.
I still find it a bit unbelievable that she said No.
In her words “People would take and what would Camille say about me going on a date with her father? It's too risky.”
After that, she said that, she climbed down from the counter, straightened her tank too and walked out of the kitchen without looking back.
I was thrown under the freaked truck.
I threw on a casual dress and walked toward the dining room, sweeping my hair away from my face. Camille was already at the table, scrolling through her phone, a half-eaten croissant on her plate. Isabella sat across from her, pushing a piece of fruit around her bowl, h
