Paris, The Ambassador and Me

by Mia Villano

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Coming Soon

  Acknowledgments

  Part Deux

  The Ambassador Trilogy Book 2

  Mia Villano

  Mia Villano Books

  This book is fiction. Name, characters, businesses, places, events and situations are all products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Copyright © 2015 by Mia Villano

  Paris, The Ambassador and Me

  Cover Art by J.N. Sheats: http://www.jnsheats.com/

  All rights reserved

  Edited by Eleni Athanassopoulos and H. Croft

  Chapter 1

  Cameras flashed as Fabrice extended his hand and helped me out of the SUV onto the red carpet. I was uncomfortable and self-conscious in my new Chanel dress as I took my first step away from the car. Why in the hell did I agree to this? Before I left, Avery said I looked amazing. Was she just making me feel better? No, Avery wouldn’t do that to me. Then I remembered they said a camera adds ten pounds. I wanted to turn around and forget it. Fabrice held my hand and kissed my fingers as the cameras flashed. Once again, I found myself tugging at the dress pulling it away from my overly curvy body. Then there was the issue with my hair. I was going to get it professionally styled but Avery said she and I could do it. We straightened, teased and sprayed it. Was it too much? Fabrice caught me out of the corner of his eye and pulled me up close to him. He whispered in my ear so only I heard him.

  “You are the most beautiful woman here. Own it.”

  “Don’t you think this is insane? I mean you could be making the biggest mistake of your life, Fabrice.” The sun was setting and the night was perfect. The sky was a mix of pink and purple swirls with a slight breeze cooling my blazing cheeks.

  On top of my lack of self-confidence, I still wasn’t convinced we should be going to this dinner together. Why did he have to let the world know so soon? We’ve been together for a couple of months. This could wait for a while longer, I thought. I considered pleading my case one more time.

  “Let’s do this, Isabella.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to wait? We can pretend we are working associates and I asked to come to this with you.” I tried to hold him back from walking any further.

  “Wait for what?” he asked, as we stood in front of the paparazzi and press. He smiled and held up his hand in a waving gesture at the crowd. In front of us, waiting to attack, stood a wall of press and more flashing cameras. They called his name, “Ambassador Arbidoux.” He was a hot commodity. This was his first Correspondence dinner as the new French Ambassador. Everyone wanted to meet this young, handsome, powerful man.

  “I don’t know. You didn’t think this through enough.”

  “Isabella, look at me.” Ignoring everything going on around us, he pulled me in front of him. We were in our own little world.

  “I have led armed forces into battle, rescued hostages, and decided to become the French Ambassador. Believe me, I have thought this through. It’s too late now. They already have a picture of our kiss. It’s all over the news. You’re my girl.” He winked at me, grabbed my hand, and began walking down the red carpet again right into the press.

  The cameras continued to flash as he led me down in front of the waiting frenzy of celebrities and news cameras. This was certainly a publicized event. I haven’t attended this before, but watched it every year on television with my family. If Fabrice wanted the world to know about us, he certainly picked the right place to do it.

  “Mr. Ambassador?” a newsperson asked. Please ignore him, I thought to myself. More reporters were trying to get his attention. I squeezed his hand tighter the farther we walked up to the doors to the event. I didn’t know there would be so many news people. It was like nothing I‘ve ever experienced before.

  CNN hosted the dinner and reporters were everywhere trying to interview everyone that would talk to them. They had a winner with Fabrice. He walked right up to one immensely popular CNN anchorman and the question was asked.

  “Good evening, Ambassador Arbidoux. Who is your beautiful guest this evening?” I was in awe standing in front of my favorite anchorman, Anderson Cooper. Every night I watched those gorgeous blue eyes tell me what was going on in the world. I couldn’t believe I was standing in front of him. He was even more handsome in person.

  “This is Isabella Piori, my beautiful date.” He kissed me on the cheek and they took a picture. My faced flushed and Anderson shoved the mic in my face.

  “Isabella, who are you excited to see tonight?” Jesus, could I say everyone? Probably not. I was so excited to be there in the mist of everything. I should’ve said him.

  “I’m excited to see the President and I’m happy to have met you.” I said.

  “Thank you. Who are you wearing this evening?” Fuck, this was like the Emmys.

  I looked at Fabrice and he took that as an opportunity to hold me closer to his side and give me a little squeeze.

  “I’m wearing Chanel, of course. Is there anything else?” Anderson laughed and agreed. He repeated it again on live television.

  “The French Ambassador is here tonight with Isabella Piori, wearing an incredible Chanel dress. I will have to say, she looks like a young Sophia Loren. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  Please, was he trying to butter us up? Sophia Loren. I highly doubt it. My mother looked like her, not me. I didn’t see it.

  “Thank you, no they haven’t. You’re the first, Anderson.”

  “You look amazing, Ambassador and Miss Piori, have a wonderful night,” he said.

  In unison we both said “Thank you.”

  “You’re a natural.” He kissed me on the cheek as more cameras flashed and we walked away.

  “Christ, I don’t know what I even said. What’s this whole I look like Sophia Loren thing?” I smiled up at him and he planted a kiss on my lips.

  “You do. I never mentioned it because you would’ve denied it.”

  Making our way to the doors of the event, the cameras continued to flash and people were screaming when a huge a-list celebrity walked up. Thankfully, the attention centered on him and his new date.

  I felt my phone buzzed inside my clutch with incoming texts. I knew I couldn’t read them until the cameras were off. My family watched at the restaurant and Ave stayed at home with Cherise watching. I’m sure Avery had a lot to say.

  Fabrice was his usually confident, powerful, and aggressive self as he walked into the foyer of the huge arena and smiled. I couldn’t help but admire how beautiful he looked in his tux, gelled-back hair, and scruff on his face. One hand stayed around my waist and his other hand stayed in the pocket of his pants. It made me want to take him back out to the SUV and fuck hi
s brains out. He must have read my mind.

  He put his lips to my ear and whispered.

  “I know what you’re thinking. I want to lose myself in you when this is over.” Jesus, couldn’t he say I want to fuck you? The way he spoke made my legs rubber and my mind became blurry thinking about him frazzled and half-dressed, sweating under me.

  “I’m all yours, Ambassador. Maybe we should leave now. We can forget this whole thing and enjoy each other.”

  “You’re damn right you are mine and no, Isabella, we aren’t leaving.” It was worth a shot.

  As we made way to our seats with the rest of the French Embassy workers, Fabrice stopped to talk to someone and I caught a glimpse of Marin from a distance. She looked gorgeous. Her hair was cut shorter in a stylish long bob, her black dress showed off her legs that went on for a mile, and she stood tall and thin. An older, distinguished, handsome man accompanied her and she made it a point to be all over him when she saw me. Her eyes scanned my body as she looked me up and down with a smirk. My self-consciousness came back. So preoccupied with the way I looked and fearing of going with Fabrice as a couple, I forgot she was going to be there. Then I remembered her calling me to tell me Fabrice was bringing me to keep the press off his dying wife. How could I’ve forgotten? I vowed not let her ruin my evening. I wouldn’t let her have that power over me. She had a sarcastic smile on her face I wanted to slap right off her. Thankfully, she turned and walked the other way. I didn’t mention it to Fabrice.

  As we walked closer to our table all eyes were on us. Fabrice grabbed two glasses of champagne from a waiter, handed me one, and I drank mine in a couple of gulps. Another waiter walked by and I grabbed another glass off his serving tray. At least this will help loosen me up a bit.

  The second person I noticed was Elizabeth, glaring at us. Wearing a red, short cocktail dress and her hair overdone, she sat there with her mouth open as Fabrice and I walked up. He held my hand and refused to let it go. Having this man so proud to be seen with me and in such a public place, was quite amazing and rather unbelievable.

  “Good Evening. We finally made it. It’s a madhouse out there. Everyone looks amazing tonight, all dressed up. Doesn’t, Isabella look beautiful. I smiled nervously and waved to everyone. It was hard to make eye contact, and I couldn’t believe it was such a surprise as I heard Elizabeth gasp. Like a deer in the headlights, everyone was in shock. Whispering started across the table and fake smiles flashed up at us.

  Fabrice noticed two empty chairs and placed his hand around my waist as he guided me to take a seat. He introduced me to the couple we were going to have dinner with the night I stormed off. He was with the French press and his beautiful wife was from Spain. I introduced myself and she commented on my dress as I told her I loved hers, as well. I sat down next to the Attache’s wife and she quickly engaged me in delightful conversation.

  “You are unbelievably beautiful, Isabella. My God that dress is perfect for you. Chanel right?” she said.

  “Thank you. Yes, it’s Chanel. You look beautiful, as well.” Every time I saw her, she was dressed impeccably. Her dress tastefully elegant for her age was black with a black jacket dusted with a few sequins. She had on a lot of diamond jewelry along with her hair styled perfectly in up-do.

  “Don’t be nervous, dear. You are with a wonderful man. People will talk no matter what.” I noticed her perfectly manicured nails tapping the side of her champagne flute also adorned with a massive diamond ring.

  “I’m not so sure if this was the right place. Fabrice insisted.”

  “He knows what he’s doing. Jean and I have known him for over twenty years and he’s a wonderful and caring man. You have captured his heart.”

  “Well, thank you. He has captured mine as well.” She reached over and gave my hand a squeeze. My other hand fidgeted with my dress again trying to pull it away from my body.

  Fabrice and General Gerard shook hands and smiled as he sat down next to me.

  My hands shook as I reached for a sip of water, noticing Elizabeth staring at me with a narrowed brow. She looked confused. I smiled at her and said,

  “You look great, Elizabeth. I love red on you.” She hesitated. I noticed she didn’t come with anyone.

  “So do you, Isabella.” Her face was void of expression. She seemed to be talking to a wall.

  After the shock and awe wore off, Fabrice pulled his chair close to me and put his hand on my thigh. The warmth of his touch and knowing how much he truly cared about me, set me at ease. Like a warm comforting blanket on a freezing cold winter day, I relaxed. The champagne helped too, I will admit. It helped wash away the uneasiness and made me warm and comfy inside.

  The presentation of the colors and the U.S. Marine band was amazing. There were some introductions and then the dinner was served. I had to be careful what I ate for fear of bloating. It was a three course dinner with a lot of seafood which I didn’t care for. I ate more dessert than I should have and drank more champagne than was necessary.

  “You are doing wonderful,” he whispered to me between bites of food. Every move he and I made was being closely scrutinized by our table. Every glance, whisper, or touch was of great interest to everyone.

  “I hope so. I still can’t believe I agreed to this.”

  “Well, you had no choice. It was this or I was forced to fire you.”

  “Yes, I may have to go to HR on Monday, if I still have my job. Though, I’m sure that is where I will be headed anyway.”

  “I will walk you down there in case you don’t know where it’s at.” We both laughed and he squeezed my thigh.

  The magical evening seemed to fly by once I became more comfortable. I watched as comedians, powerful politicians, and celebrities I never dreamed I would meet, take the stage. Each one was vying to make the crowd laugh and doing a wonderful job. The biggest highlight of the night was meeting the President and his beautiful wife. I even had my picture taken with them. Powerful politicians come into our restaurant every day, yet I haven’t met the President. That night, I shook his hand and the First Lady’s. Fabrice introduced me and the First Lady complimented me on my dress. I was star struck. They didn’t look anything like they do on the television. The First Lady had such beautiful skin and the President was quite handsome for his age. There I was among them. Isabella Piori, twenty-six year old graduate of George Washington University, not a super model, socialite, or actress. Just me, an Italian girl attending this highly publicized event with a powerful, gorgeous man taken by me. Was I dreaming? The way his fingers brushed up my thigh throughout the night sent a wave of awareness through my body, telling me I was wide awake.

  Chapter 2

  We rushed out of the dinner like two teenagers late for our curfew. Fabrice was especially anxious I noticed by the look in his sea blue eyes. During dessert when I was shoveling a piece of cake in my mouth, he told me what he was going to do to me before we made it back to the mansion. I couldn’t wait to be under his spell and have him all to myself.

  One of the biggest after parties was hosted at his mansion with Vanity Fair. Security was arriving that afternoon to set up a tent in the driveway to I.D. people. All day his house was a buzz with caterers, chefs, staff, and a band setting up. There were people everywhere putting up decorations, lights, and tents. It was a yearly tradition for one of the after parties to be at the French Ambassador’s mansion and was the hottest ticket of the year, I was told. Even though this was his first party besides the gala, Fabrice took it in stride and wasn’t worried in the least. He was at ease and happy to be doing it.

  I was able to sneak off to the restroom in between dinner and meeting the President. I checked my phone and my family had sent several messages telling me how gorgeous the two of us looked. Of course, Avery sent a picture of the two of us that was already up on the internet, and drew in obscene doodles of Fabrice’s overly large penis sticking out of his pants. I didn’t like the picture of me. I looked out of place. Sophia also sent one of me and one
of a younger Sophia Loren, and texted twins. I noticed a slight resemblance, but she was way more beautiful than I could ever be. The instant I saw it, the old feelings of inadequacy rose up. The same degrading voice in my head told me I was unworthy, I looked fat, I wasn’t pretty. It was the voice I heard for four years. It was Anthony’s voice when he would go on a tirade and degrade me. I tried to block it out as best as I could. I hope Fabrice didn’t see the sad look on my face when we walked out.

  The SUV waited for us out front in the midst of a sea of other limousines with drivers waiting to load up their passengers. Ronnie stood waiting at the back door looking serious in his dark suit.

  “Good Evening, Ambassador, Isabella. Did you have a nice dinner?”

  “Lovely, Ronnie, just lovely.”

  “Are we going home to your party?”

  “Not yet. Drive around awhile until I tell you to head back home. I need to talk to Isabella.”

  “Will do.” Ronnie winked at Fabrice. He took off his suit coat and handed it to Ronnie as he held the door open for us and I slid in. There was a sea of limousines everywhere coming and going. Horns were honking and people were making their way to various parties.

  I breathed a sigh of relief as I lay my head against the back headrest. I made it. The warm SUV made me tired and the night was not going to be over for quite some time. As Fabrice called and checked on the party preparations I couldn’t help but admire how beautiful the dress looked. I loved it so much. I hated to take it off.

  Fabrice wanted it off right then and there. As soon as the car started rolling on the highway, he put up the partition and was all over me.

  “We were a hit.” His mouth just inches from mine. His hands crept up my thighs as I sat back and let him take over.

  “Wait till Monday when I have to pack up my desk,” I said, in between his kisses.

  “Stop it. Everyone is happy for us. No one cares, Isabella. The worst that could happen is you work in another building. We can deal with that. I noticed the First Lady complimented you on your dress.” I felt him press up against me hard and wanting. Heat poured off his body and warmed my chilled skin.