All Chapters of My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Jacqueline's superiority complex is impressive in its size.“It matters. We will be doing interviews, introductions, and presentations on the competition in the coming weeks. The marketing is centred on House Corbin supporting young female designers like you once were, ones who need exposure and opportunity.” The Fashion Females Under 25 competition might have been his idea, but Jacqueline is the public face of it. Jackson was suddenly worried that she will use and manipulate these women, perhaps take advantage of their creativity and leave them empty-handed. It’s an idea that he had not previously considered. Jacqueline is cold and austere, but honourable in her arrogance. But she is also proud, and the source of her pride is falling in a previouslyunforeseen way. It’s something to consider. “Fine. I take it you met the women, then?” she concedes. “Yes. In those ridiculous, HR-worthy costumes.” She smiles at the scolding. It’s a tiny lift of her lips, but it’s there. She didenjoy t

Inside, Monica have to pause to let her eyes adjust in the weathered brick foyer. It’s clearly darker than outside, but as they go through the inner doors, a whole new world is revealed. Suddenly, her phone vibrates with a message from Julien telling her that he can't make it to her apartment as he has two important meetings to attend. She frowns and goes ahead. Everything is swanky, with dark oaks, red leather, and brass touches that give the club a sense of understated luxury. It’s the sort of club that he could imagine the Curies sitting in, sipping wine and discussing science and art with Cousteau or Renoir. It has the aura of age and the feeling of immortality. On one side of the club is a beautiful bar with a brass rail and multi-colored bottles all contained in their own little cubbyholes, some of them labeled, some of them not. Filling the other three walls is a collection ofbooths and tables, intimate and lit by a candle in the center of each. The centre of the space is a wo

Julien landed at the airport surrounded by his colleagues and the other parties. His navy suit is still fresh when Catalina steps out of the private jet wearing a white dress fitted to her slim body. Her hair dyed in black and blue. When the chief's eyes snap to her she smiles and they both exchange hugs and handshakes. "Well, what are you both doing for the evening?" Julien winces and looks up and says, "I came to meet my ex-wife. She has a lot going on so I thought I could stay by her tonight. And Catalina has a party to attend anyway. It was a pleasure to meet you, Tom." Tom nods and goes on board to his plane for the time. Well if Monica was not already intrigued, she was now. With all four of her new friends nodding their heads and the waitress’s approving judgment, Monica nods. “Fine, but I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Monica starts to follow the waitress, only to hear Molly call out, “If he can get you off that fast, make him do it twice." She looks back, horrified. There’s musi

Jackson was about to kiss her when they were interrupted by a group of young women breaking into the VIP section and running toward him. There was a flurry ofFrench squeals, cell phone flashes, and napkins thrust his way. In the mean time, Monica pulls back from him and a woman sits down in the tiny space between them, wiggling in an attempt to push Monica further away. "Jackson, Jackson . . . can you sign this, please?” “Will you take our picture?” “J’adore vous.” The mob of women seems to be some sort of girls’ night out affair because they have matching dresses on. Jackson would love to tell them off for their rudeness, but even now, he was keenly aware that he was a representative of House Corbin, as well as a product in and of himself. Rudeness is not marketable. Still, Monica was watching the whole scene unfold like her words conjured the very thing she mentioned—fans who want nothing more than a kiss or afuck from him as a story to brag about. “One minute, please," he tells

Jackson's dog definitely likes to push him around, and the sound of his alarm clock means one thing . . . time for his human to feed him. “Not now Xerx, you’ll get your food soon. But you won’t get as much if you don’t stop barking,” Jackson tells him. Xerxes yaps one more time then goes quiet, rolling onto his back and offering his belly for a rub. He was a regular belly rub slut. Jackson shakes his head at his antics, rubbing gently and cooing a kind ‘good morning’. Once he was calmed down, he lies back in bed with his arm behind his head and thinks about his dream . . . and last night. Monica’s lips and tongue, the way she tasted, and her responsiveness are seared into his little brain. None of it’s helpful for his hard-on that has returned, pulsing and leaking underneath the sheet. Following Monica to the club and pursuing her was a spontaneous decision, the kiss even more so. Professionally, it probably was not the bestmove, but personally, Jackson loved every second of it. The