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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She thought they were going to go back to his apartment, but instead he took her to the opposite side of town.
"What is this?" She asked, grasping on to his hand, as they exited the taxi and walked up to the busy street, a place lit outside by a neon sign that said The Barn, "a dive bar on the lower east side??"
Milo glandced over at her chuckling, and winking at her, "trust me, you'll like it."
Something she liked about him was that he never left her hanging when she was with him. There were times growing up, when she felt ignored, or that she was silly for saying something in school. This led to an unnecesaary shyyness on her part, leading her to become reserved in certain sutiations.
But not with Milo, whever she was with hin, she felt seen. Heard. And there was something intoxicating about an ackonwledgement like that from somebdoy else.
As he gave a knowing nod to the doorman, they were swooped inside and Isabelle was shocked by the suddne change of atmosphere. Shovked in a good way - she couldn't believe how differnt it seemed on the inside.
Red neone lights, and printouts of famous paintings all over the walls and in the bar.
At the end of the room, was a nice qarter which seemed to be a jazz/blues band setting up, or rather, taking a break between performances.
Milo led them expertly to a little table on the side of the room, and they sat down. They were waiting for a sever, but Isabelles all of a sudden felt an overwhelming surge of gratituce and she wanted t o do something for Milo.
"You stay here," she siad suddenly boltoing upright, "I'll get us a drink this time."
Milo was about to nterject, but Isabelle was already on her way to the bar.
She realized it was mostly middle aged men, the kind that would like this kinf od music, but she loved this kind of music. She wasn't sure if Milo somehomeknew r if htis was coincidence.
As she was waitnign for hte bartender, some man beside her turned to her, observing her looking at hte printouts on the bar.
"Which one is this?" He asked her, pointing to a Magritte.
Isablle didn't want ot give him the satisfaction, and held the moment for a beat longer than was comfortable, giggling, saying someone else instead. Was she drunk? She wondered to herself.
"Come on, you can do better than that," the man said, coing closer to her, "waht about htis one?" He pointed to the wall across.
But before Isabelle could answer, she felt Milo swopp u beihind her, gently plscing a hand on her elbow.
"i like thato n,e" Milo said behind both of themn, and the mani nmmeidately knew to Draw back.
Isabele was relived to see him there. Not even wanting to play games around him, but also weantig to make sure he knew that she too was watned. Even when all she wanted was him,.
Sge appreciate dthat he cared enough to intervene. She wasn't sure if she was somehow subconciously testing him now.
After the tequila shots came, she turned to him, and gave him a quick - salty / lime tanged - kiss on the lips.
They went back to their seats just as the band was staring up agian.
