When up-and-coming model Isabelle meets talented but jaded photographer Milo, sparks fly despite their age difference. Their romance becomes the talk of the New York City fashion scene, fueling rumors and speculation about their scandalous affair. A...
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Isabelle woke up the next morning, feeling more alive than she had in a long time. The memories of her night with Milo ran through her mind, and she couldn't help but smile as she thought back to the way Milo had looked at her over that whiskey.
As she got ready for the day, Isabelle caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and couldn't believe the changes that had taken place. She had always felt insecure about her appearance, but Milo had made her feel beautiful in a way she had never experienced before.
Isabelle knew that she was falling for him fast, faster than she should, and she couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way. After all, Milo was older and more experienced, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was just a temporary diversion for him.
But as Isabelle replayed the events of the night in her mind, she knew that there was something special between them. They had talked for hour, sharing stories and laughing at each other's jokes. Isabelle couldn't help but feel a deep connection with Milo. But the again, she felt it that first moment he laid eyes on her.
As she headed out the door, Isabelle knew that she had to see Milo again. She couldn't bear the thought of him slipping away from her, of losing the chance to explore the potential of their budding relationship.
With a newfound sense of determination, Isabelle set out to make plans for their next date. She was ready to take the next step with Milo, to see where this connection could take them. And she knew that whatever happened, she would cherish the memories of that magical first night together forever.
Luckily, she didn't even have that much time to sit and think about who should text who first or how or when, because he, invariably did.
Would love to see you again. xx Milo
She gulped, realizing that here was something sexy about his directness. How refreshing it was to deal with a man. Not a boy.
This was coming from an unknown number, but it was Milo. She could feel it. Not through an agent, not through a manager, just straight Milo. Like a straight whiskey shot.
She paced her apartment that night, and after reeling herself back from fantasizing about different scenarios, she replied.
Yes, this week is a little crazy but would be good to do something.
She stared at that for al long time after sending it. She didn't want to se and guess herself, but she couldn't help it.
But she also didn't have to.
Over the next few days, they had a most effortless exchange of notes, mementos, and when he mentioned that he was flying to Milan for work on the weekend, she decided now was the rush but...once again, he took the lead.
She couldn't believe it.
Not only did he make the plans, but he went as far as to call her about it first.
She was sitting in the back patio of a coffee shop somewhere in Brooklyn, it finally being Spring and even nice enough to get some type of sunshine.
When the phone rang, she froze holding it in her hands, both scared and excited to hear his voice again.
"Hello?" Isabelle asked hesitantly.
"It's me," and at the sound of his voice, she relaxed instantly.
"I know," she said.
A bomb could have gone off in the coffee shop and she wouldn't have noticed, way too absorbed in this.
She knew he could hear her smiling over the phone.
"There's a place, an art gallery opening, I unfortunately have to make an appearance at, but after," Milo took a sip of something. And she was brought back to his large hands holding that tiny espresso cup...holding her.
"...what do you think?" Milo asked her but she seemed to completely miss what he said in her eerie.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Isabelle asked, feeling her cheeks blush.
Milo chuckled on the other side, "Isabelle, is this your way of playing hard to get?"
"What? No!"
"I said, would you like to have dinner with me?"
"Now, if I was playing hard, would I really be saying of course right now?" Isabelle asked, taking back her confidence, the way her therapist told her to - to feel it in her body first.
"No, I wouldn't think so," Milo said, and they stayed silent for a moment, she let it happen. She who was afraid of silence at times, let t happen just so she could capture that moment, that tiny connection with him.
Finally, he broke the silence, she wanted to see where this could go.
"I'm just thinking of days to keep you on here for as long as I can," Milo said quietly, and Isabelle felt a warm feeling food her system, akin to sunshine (rainbows) and butterflies.
They talked for nearly an hour, letting the tension of that week dissolve, until finally she was getting another call on her phone...from her manager.
She really didn't want to take it, but she knew she had to.
"I have to go," Isabelle finally breathed into the phone.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow," Milo said. And Isabelles heart skipped a beat, she's never been picked up.
"Bye, see you," Isabelle rushed to hang up the phone before he could, always wanting to be the first to leave.
