Charlotte Everhart has spent the past seven years trying to bury her feelings for her childhood best friend, Jasper Scott.
So when she finds a hidden love letter from him while he is in Australia, she knows she has to tell him how she feels.
Probl...
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THERE ARE THREE different kinds of beauty in the world.
The first, most common type of beauty, is the one that is painfully obvious, the kind that you simply can't deny even if you wanted to. It was right there in your face, all over the streets, annoyingly charming like the likes of most Hollywood celebrities.
Sometimes, these types of faces are so unmistakably attractive that you just can't help but feel like punching them in the face.
The second type of beauty is the dreamy sort. Attractive enough at first sight, pleasing to the human eye, but not necessarily enough to capture and command the attention of everyone in a room like the first. It's the kind that you see everyday, the one that you end up falling in love with slowly over time. The kind you end up marrying.
The third one is the rare, unattainable beauty. As Edgar Allen Poe once said, there is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness in its proportions.
You can't help but be slightly disturbed, yet fascinated when looking at these people — the paragon of class and sophistication. It's the type of face that sticks in your head long after you've passed by them.
And then there's the fourth kind, standing in front of Charlotte with a modest smile on her face.
Amelia Windermere is heartbreakingly beautiful.
Gorgeous ginger curls framed her heart-shaped face, her locks spilling smoothly all over her shoulders. Contrasted against pretty, pale skin, her bambi-esque eyes made her stand out the moment she walked in. Hazel, innocent, seductive — luring you in like a siren's song. The archetype of femininity.
Every woman's subject of envy, epitome of every man's dream.
"Hi, I'm Amelia Windermere," she says, extending her hand out to Sophie who is standing nearest to her.
Her voice is soft and clear, just like someone Charlotte always imagined Jasper going for. Sophie takes it, greeting her warmly.
"Sophie Blackwood. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Amelia grins, her eyes drifting to Charlotte.
"And you must be Charlotte ! Jasper has told me so much about you," she enthuses, her Australian accent distinct.
Taking Amelia's hand, Charlotte shakes it. She was never great at meeting new people, often taking a long time before actually feeling comfortable with them.
But this ?
It was a whole new level of intimidating, looking into the eyes of the woman that had merely been a name actually standing in front of her.
"Hi, nice to meet you," Charlotte says bashfully.
Amelia speaks, "I hope I'm not intruding or anything."
