Bonjour Mr. Beau

Chapter 1 <3

Heyyahey readers! 

My name is FrankieBelle and I have started this hopefully awesome new book called Bonjour Mr. Beau. I really hope you like it and it you do.....

COMMENT / VOTE / FAN! 

Thank you so much and i am depending on you! 

I really do not think the writing is as good as my other book so if this one isn't popular i'm taking it down....

So please do! 

Love FrankieBelle <3 

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Chapter 1. 

Olivia slowly stepped down each stair with caution. Her head felt heavy, her legs were jelly and her ears were ringing. Hangover are not for the faint hearted, she thought grumpily. The white canister ended and she was greeted by her maid who asked her if she was feeling okay.

“Yes, Flo, just fine.” She replied. 

“You look awful!” Florence exclaimed. 

“Don’t you have something you should be tending to?” Olivia snapped and Florence ran away. Great, she thought gingerly, another person to turn against me. It wasn’t in Olivia’s nature to be snappy, she had always been the happy girl, filled joy. Everyone adored Olivia, well mostly. 

She tried to recall what had happened the previous night. She remembered going to a party with James, her match made boyfriend. She remembered him forcing himself on her...again. James was her nightmare. He was mean and nasty to her, but an angel in public. Whenever anyone saw them together they would sigh and say how perfect they were, which is true. She had brown hair and the cutest face, while he had a dreamer appearance and an incredible body.  He wasn't as great on the inside thought. When she refused to kiss him let alone get into bed with him, he would hit her and shout. When she did anything or tell anybody he would hit her harder. She knew he was also dating a few other girls, but only in private. One was her friend from kindergarden, Claire, and she had walked in on them in James’ bed. The other was a girl from high school, Lola, he admitted to that. She knew that there was no serious relation, just a skip the dinner and on with dessert scenario. Lola and Claire were shallow girls, no depth or real emotion, just giggles and superficiality. People defined Olivia as sweet, generous, bubbly and trustworthy. There was always a difference between her, and Lola and Claire. 

As she went down yet more stairs she remembered the lift that was being installed. Her house was a typical Manhattan, New York mansion, massive garden and all. The house was big and Cannery yellow that made her sick. Everything, every room looked like it was deserving of belonging to the queen. It had three stories, all state of the art suites. The white pillars outside looked ready to be in Greece and her poodle, Arbella, looked like she was ready to be in a red Louis Vuitton bag at a Parisian restaurant. 

Olivia had reached the landing and made for the dining room where the smells of fresh bread was being served and her parents voices were raising. She hide behind a door. 

“Christopher, she is just a girl, she doesn’t know what is going on.”

“Olivia is eighteen! It a wonder she hasn't left home!”

“James is good to her, she doesn’t know what she is talking about.”

“I agree, but should we at least get more into the situation, what she accusing James of is huge!”

“James is an angel, he would never do anything she is saying, now shut your trap like a good father and step aside.”

“Bethany-”