All Chapters of My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Already, ideas were whirling through Monica's mind. “Please select a card with your model’s name and measurements,” Tobias instructs, holding up five white cards with the House Corbin logo visible. Katarina runs toward him, her heels clicking on the floor. She snatches a card and dashes back in line with it pressed to her chest. The remaining four of them look at her and then each other and then attack Tobias for cards of their own. “Ladies, you don’t even know what you are fighting for. All of the models are suitable, I assure you.” Monica grabs one and holds it tightly as though Yori might steal it from her, but it was with a smile because they were all laughing at their own outrageousness. “Mine, mine, mine,” Monica drawls out, mimicking the seagulls in Finding Nemo. Only Molly seems to get it. “Shut up, you rats with wings,” Molly answers. They meet eyes, grinning like loons. Monica looks at her card. Jeanette. The accompanying photo shows a gorgeous woman with short, tight natur

If Monica were in heels, she would have busted it on this tile floor. Hell, she might still fall in the flats as fast as Tobias was hustling. “Did you know ferrets can get the flu?” He keeps running, keeps talking, not letting her answer. But no, she did not know that ferret flu is a real thing. “It’s a big deal because it’s a working ferret, so he was got to get healthy.” “I’m sorry, did you say a ‘working ferret’?” Tobias laughs at Monica's confusion. “I didn’t know either. He’s trained to run cables through walls. They cut a hole for him to start and one where he needsto exit. Release him inside, and then use a little clicker at the exit, and he will go along until he gets there.” Monica blink, not sure if he was fucking with her. His expression is earnest, but seriously? “Well, I hope he’s okay.” It seems like the safest response. “So do you need me to run cables?” It’s all she can think of based on whatever he was talking about. Tobias blinks, looking at her like she was the o

“I’m not complaining,” Jackson assures her. “I have put in plenty of twelve- or fourteen- hour days, interning and learning in every department I could, finding a place where I can be useful to the company beyond my face. But I have to balance both, concentrating on my work mentally while watching my nutrition and fitness closely. Add to that, faking emotions with models I detest, playing lapdog to Jacqueline, and pulling the company, fighting and screaming, into relevance." Jackson realises a moment later that he have revealed too much. It’s just so easy to talk to Monica “Sorry.” “Nothing to apologize for,” she promises him. “Yes, there is. Friday, you were jealous and I didn’t handle it properly. I should have—”“I wasn’t jealous!” “When those meuf came into the lounge, you wanted to . . . snatch a bitch?” he think he was using her American slang properly, or at least he hopes so. Monica’s eyes spark fire, and his was not sure whether she was going to eviscerate him or storm off

As Yori glances up. “It doesn’t fit the theme, but I like it.” Monica can see her point. Though it is floral, it was black and gray and would be more suitable for a winter design, or springtime for Goths. “Maybe work with it and play around. If the result is not what you want, you can always cut it out of the final show. You have got to respect your muse, though. Sometimes, she knows more than you do.” “Arigato,” she says, her eyes still locked on the fabric. Monica settles in at her worktable and begins pulling together fabrics for the designs she has worked on last night. At some point, Katarina and Beatrice comes in. Together, but working on their own projects, they make magic happen. They chat about fashion and their families while they work. At some point, when Molly starts growling at a particularly ornery sewing machine, they even have a dance party to break the stress. As bass beats fill the space, they make their own circle, cheering each other on through moves that are more s

Jackson knows that his city is beautiful, all of her uglier sides hidden by the cloak of darkness and the dazzle of her lights, but seeing it through Monica’s eyes makes him fall in love with his city all over again. Like he never loved anyone before. The need to love her is anything to go by. He turns on music, finding a song every French person knows, La Vie En Rose. “I know this,” Monica says in delight. “It’s the perfect soundtrack for this.” Jackson turns a corner and in front of them stands the Eiffel Tower, lit up in her golden glow. Monica gasps. “Oh, my God. It’s beautiful.” “Millions of people come to see her each year because of her beauty, but tonight, her beauty pales to yours.” “Wow,” she says breathily, her eyes falling to his. He can see the reflection of the Tower’s lights in their depths, and the moment feels heavy with possibility. A car horn honks behind them, and he have to focus on the roadway once again, but he doesn't forget the look in her eyes. As they drive