Fate is a fighter

Chapter 33 - model

It has been about two months since Jordan and I moved into our house together. The lawsuit is still ongoing, and it is taking up a lot of Jordan's time and headspace, but I want to be there for him, so every evening when he comes back stressed from one thing or another, I make him a cup of tea, we sit down and cuddle by the fire, and he lets it all out.

Recently the tabloids have completely flipped their story, because of course it got out into the press, and are completely hating on Cleo, as well as Anne and Colin. I'm not surprised, but I do feel bad in a way. Desperate people do desperate things, and it's sad really.

I am now loved in the press too, and I have to have bodyguards wherever I go because I'm constantly swarmed by paparazzi. Unfortunately, it has meant I lost my job, which Jordan thinks is completely appalling from them, and is on the verge of starting a lawsuit against them too. I just went with it, and now I am searching elsewhere for another job, as I didn't fancy just sitting at home in this large house all day.

Cleo had her baby the other day I think, it was on the front page of some magazine I saw when I was doing my shopping for the week. It was a baby boy, and it looked cute, absolutely nothing like Jordan though, so her plan probably wouldn't have worked long term anyway, but still.

Tabs is now seven months pregnant, happily moved in with Oli. Her pregnancy hormones are getting the best of her recently, and she has been fighting with Oli a bit, not actual fights, more like he would accidently insinuate how big she's got (completely innocently on his side), and she would cry and shout at him, and then come round to my house. She'd eat ice cream from my freezer, which I had bought tubs and tubs of especially for her, and then sleep in my guest room. A little while after, Oli would turn up, asking to see her, and then he would sleep next to her in the spare room, because they would make up, but she would be too tired to move. Then they would leave the next morning.

"Avery, honey I'm home," I heard Dahlia announce, as she walked through the front door. I turned to look at her, and saw she was carrying two big bottles of champagne. Dahlia was now some kind of fashion icon, she had always been a low-key model, but dating Dylan had put her on the radar of a lot of big-time agents, who had signed her on. Now she had a huge following, and wherever she went, she looked gorgeous, her outfits and style was immaculate, and for that I was jealous of, although she often re-vamped my wardrobe, and chose outfits for me. Noah had also gone down a similar path, but in addition to modelling the clothes, he also designed them too. He was well on the way to starting his own brand, called 'Lemons and Limes'. I was happy for him.

"What's the occasion?" I asked Dahlia, as I turned and brought out two champagne flutes from one of the cupboards.

"Well, I just got signed by Gucci!" she exclaimed, popping one of the bottles.

"Woah, that's insane," I squealed. "I'm so happy for you!"

"I want you to be in the shoot with me," she said.

"What?" I looked at her as though she was insane, because she kind of was, "no way, I'm not a model."

"Avery, you are stunning!"

"I'm not tall enough to model!"

"These are photos, they can't see your height."

"No way."

"Yes way. It's tomorrow afternoon, I will drag you kicking and screaming, mark my words," she said. If it was anyone else, I would call their bluff, but this was Dahlia we were talking about, and she genuinely would drag me kicking and screaming. Never underestimate Dahlia. So, I sighed, I rolled my eyes, and I agreed to at least go with her, with no guarantee that I would be in any of the pictures. That seemed good enough for her.