Chapter 27

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"Arissa, Grace needs to see you in her office. It's important..." Kelsey, an assistant at the PR firm Arissa was working at called her in the middle of a massive e-mail conversation about accessories being delivered to a show in New York post-runway show.

"Tell her I'm on my way..." she jumped up from her desk running as fast as she could in her high heels to the office of the director of the firm's office.

"Sit, sit, Arissa." Grace asked her politely.

"Hi!" Arissa spoke politely.

"So, Sierra's sick. I need you to go to Paris and Milan with Nahvia for fashion week."

"What?! Are you serious?!" she tried to hold herself together.

"Yes. Get your bags packed. I'll have a car pick both of you up tomorrow morning. I'll e-mail you the itinerary as I get more details..."

"Can I ask you a question?" Arissa asked.

"Please don't tell me you can't go. I have to be in New York."

"No, I can...but where will I be on the 8th?" she asked. Grace glanced down at the calendar.

"You'll be in Milan."

"Oh...that's good." she exclaimed.

"Why, what's the 8th?"

"It's my fiance's birthday and he's in Milan that day."

"Oh..wait...I didn't know you were engaged! I never see him..." Grace's ears suddenly perked up.

"Yeah. I don't see much of him either...." she said.

"Aww, sweetheart. What does he do? Is he in business? Finance? I bet he's some kind of millionaire....well he has to be I know where you live!"

"Oh. He's in the music industry.." Arissa hadn't opened up to her director yet. A handful of the girls knew they were engaged- she had a few pictures of them on her desk...but otherwise it was a non-issue.

"Well, yes. You'll be there on the 8th...the Pucci show is in the morning. But after that you're free, I think..unless Galliano decides to put his collection on display that evening. You'd need to go to that.."

**

By the time she left the office it was 9 in the evening. I'm going to surprise him. I'm not even going to tell him. I get there late on the 6th. The 7th I'm booked and then...

Arissa moved her way through the crowd at the Dolce and Gabana Spring/Summer 2012 floor. She smoozed several key contacts before taking her seat. She was in awe at the show. She had been to quite a few since she started her job in Los Angeles – even catching the tail end of New York Fashion week, but this was more than anything she had ever seen. Cameras were going off and people were screaming out to celebrities as they arrived and took their seats. And then suddenly she heard a familiar soothing laugh behind her. Flashes and "Bruno! This way! Over here!" was all she could hear. He didn't even tell me he was coming to this! What the hell is going on? Well I certainly can't ignore him. Her phone buzzed.

Dolce, baby doll, Dolce.

Even though Nahvia and she had shared a long plane ride to Europe, they weren't the best of friends and she was not one of the few that knew about Bruno.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"It was nothing. I'll be right back. Don't get too excited about the show.."

"Good luck trying to get your seat back, Ris..." she yelled as Arissa made her way toward him.

"Phil..." Bruno hit his partner on the side as they took pictures.

"What? That hurt, bro."

"That girl...with her hair in the bun...black pants and orange top. I swear that could be Arissa."

"She's in LA. You just talked to her like two minutes ago..."

"No...that's her....I know it..." he said through his teeth as they headed toward their 3rd row seats. Is that her? Have I been away from her too long that I'm starting to see things? She's coming this way. And she has on the ring...I'm going crazy. I've only been gone for 3 weeks...

"Excuse me? Can you tell me where Bruno Mars is sitting?" Arissa asked one of the English speaking interns.

"Umm....she frantically went through her list to find his name. "He and his guest should be on the other side..." she pointed over toward the other direction.

"Thank you..." Arissa continued to push her way through to him. He was starting to get closer to his seat...Shit, shit, shit. motherfucker. Screw being polite. She pushed the two girls keeping her away from him without saying excuse me to touch his hand lightly. He better feel that...he didn't turn around. "Damnit, Bruno." she said quietly. He turned around hearing his name being called.

The photographers are gone..Who would have said that? It is her. It is her. I can smell her.He grabbed her hand and squeezed it as he kept walking. He didn't say a thing to her. He pulled her closer to him as he walked toward his seat. "What are you doing here?" he asked her still walking.

"Work...." she answered.

"I like your work..." he said sitting down in his assigned seat.

"Shit! It is her!" Phil looked at Arissa shocked.

'Yeah, yeah. I know. I can't sit here..someone else is supposed to sit here. And Nahvia is way in the back where I should be..." she told him.

"No. Sit. I'm Bruno fucking Mars. Whoever was supposed to sit next to me can deal." He grabbed her hand pulling her into the seat next to him.

"You don't get this stuff do you?" she asked him.

"I get that you are sitting next to me at a Dolce and Gabana fashion show." he pulled her arm to get her to sit.

"Let me at least ask who is supposed to sit here..." she pleaded. As she started to walk back to the English speaking intern the lights went off.

"Shit. I guess Italian Arissa has to sit next to Italian Bruno for now.." he laughed pulling her into him. As she sat down next to him, knowing she broke one of the top 2 rules in couture fashion show etiquette, she saw Leighton Meester point toward her seat in dismay with the intern. The intern shrugged and kept walking.

"We are in so much trouble, Bru..." Arissa whispered to him.

"No we're not. Smile. People are going to know who you are after tonight..." he whispered back pointing to some of the clothes on the runway.

Her phone buzzed.

Are you sitting next to Bruno Mars?

Yeah. Long story. We'll talk after. What did you think of look 4 and 5?

She continued to text Nahvia throughout the show about the pieces they liked and how to get things into the hands of clients.

"Did you even watch any of the show?" he asked her as the designers made their long walk down the runway.

"I saw every single one." she told him.

"Now, tell me how tell me how the hell you got to Milan without me knowing..." he said as everyone started standing up to applaud for the show.

"I'm better at keeping secrets than you are.."

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