Title: The Limelight
Rating: T
Summery:Moriah Adams is a household name as the 'Ice' supermodel that is taking the country by storm. While she continues to gain celebrity status, will she be able to continue to hide her job from her boyfriend who confesses a dislike for celebrities?
"...turn to the left, babe. That's it!" Marcus snapped another photo, "Look like you want me to ravish you."
The blond-haired beauty in front of him smirked, and tilted her head back, feeling the breeze blow back her locks. Her hair was platinum blond, completely natural, and one of her best features. She was slightly pale, but not to make her look unnatural, and she had a stunning ice-blue eyes. It was the eyes that had earned her the nickname of Ice.
She was Moriah Adams, one of the top supermodels in the United States. Marcus Bourdeux was her friend and latest employer, filming her for the next issue of Covergirl.
"As much as you're pretty to look at, Marcus, you're not my type," Moriah chuckled, turning around and raising her arms high in the air and over her head. She smiled a bright smile, making sure her eyes sparkled for the camera.
"You wound me," he smirked, snapping another photo and signaling the assistants to change the backdrop. She was wearing a beautiful, billowing, black dress that contrasted wonderfully with her hair and skin. Moriah couldn't help but laugh at Marcus' comment. She had many job offers, but she liked working for Marcus the best. He was always more of a friend than he was an employer, "That's it for the day. You're free."
Moriah sighed and stretched her arms as she made her way towards her dressing room, "Thanks again, Marcus."
"No need to thank me, it is I who enjoys working with you," Marcus said, "What are you hurrying off so quickly to do? Not to date with that Daimon again, I hope"
Moriah forced herself to not scowl, "No, but I might have something."
He stared at her grim expression and nodded, "Take care, babe."
"You know I always do."
Moriah entered her condo that afternoon, locking the door, and setting her purse and keys on the table. There was a stack of letters and job offers waiting in the mailbox, and her agent had left a few messages on the answering machine. Ice was high in demand, but if she was asked, Moriah would say that she legitimately enjoyed her job.
The press loved her as well. When she turned on the television, she scrunched her nose at another story about her and Daimon Delgado. Being about the same rank as she was in the supermodel world, the media loved to pair her and Daimon together. It didn't matter that they had broken up three months ago, and it didn't matter that Daimon was a bastard.
When the phone rang, she wasn't paying attention when she answered, "This is Moriah Adams."
"Hey baby."
She growled, "Go the hell away, Daimon."
"Come now, there's no reason to speak to your fiance like that."
"You're not my fiance."
"The press says we are."
"The press can screw themselves."
He chuckled, "You know there's no way that you could ever escape me, Moriah. Something will happen and you'll end up crawling back-"
She hung up on him, not being in the mood to deal with him at the moment. Daimon was just ticked that she had dumped him, and as far as Moriah knew, she was the first woman to do so. Just because he looked like he had the body of a god, didn't mean that he had a decent personality.
Glancing at the clock, she jumped and headed towards her bedroom. She had someone to meet, and there wasn't much time left for her to get ready.
"...next Tuesday we will have a test on proofs, as well as the first two chapters of the text. I would like everyone to start thinking about their projects, and make sure to run your formulas by me no later than the end of this week. Class dismissed."
There were groans, and Mr. McShane grinned widely as he watched his geometry students file out of class. It wasn't a bad group to end the day with, but overall he preferred the advanced classes to the generals.
He was thirty years old, tall and lanky, with dirty blond hair that was slightly too long. His black rimmed glasses where not incredibly wide, but even McShane admitted they made him look like a nerd. Unfortunately, he would have to wait a little while longer before replacing them. In the last couple months, he had started working out at the local gym a few times a week, as well as running in the mornings before class. It was not his favorite activity to do, but McShane didn't want the years of sitting in the library and studying in the lab to take a toll on him.
Especially at this point in his life.
Gathering up his things, he smirked when he spotted a familiar face at the door, "Curt, you scheming jackass," he murmured in a hushed voice.
"You're one to talk, Mr. Elusive," Curt Mannings, the teacher of history and psychology, elbowed him, "Who is she, Dec?"
"None of your freaking business," entering his office, Declan McShane scooped up his jacket, and smiled, "I don't have time to joust with you today, my friend."
"Lies."
"You'll meet her someday."
"Why can't I meet her now?" Curt crossed his arms, "Susie wants us all to go on a double date."
"But you two are married and we're not, it would be awkward."
"You gotta get over this socially introverted thing, Dec, it's not healthy."
Declan shrugged as they made their way down the hallway, "It suits me. I'm just not used to big crowds."
It was a good thing too, Declan always viewed himself as socially clumsy and clueless. The only time he was good with a crowd was if it was a class, or some sort of seminar that he was directing. He was a damn good teacher, and he knew it. But in the matter of general social lives, Declan McShane believed he did the world a favor when he stayed at home with a cup of Earl Grey tea and a good book.
"What does your girlfriend do?"
"She's in business," Declan smiled, "Frightfully smart, I've had wonderful debates with her."
"Sounds like your kind of woman."
More or less, Declan thought, but he shrugged anyway. She was stunningly beautiful, confident, and completely different from the women he had dated in the past. He still couldn't point out what it was that initially drew him to her, but she was amazing and he loved her anyway.
"Just think-" Curt chuckled, "-if she was a socialite, or an actress or something?"
"I would do something to embarrass myself," Declan shook his head, "I could never handle dating a celebrity."
Moriah finished with her hair. In the end, she managed to curl it, and bind most of it onto her head in a bun. She took out her contacts, and slipped a pair of glasses on her nose. Smiling in the mirror, she finished the entire assemble with her little light-pink lipstick and blush. Moriah never wore too much make-up since she had started dating again.
Excitement soared through her as she bounded from her bedroom into the living room, scooping up her cell phone and wallet, and dumping them in her purse. Her jean skirt was simple, from a local department store, and she wore a light blue blouse with it. A pair of gold loops dangled from her ears, and there was a watch on her wrist.
Compared to what she was used too this was the cheapest, easiest outfit to wear, and she loved it.
When she locked the door to her apartment, Moriah heard her phone play 'Beethoven's Fifth' in her purse. Looking at the ID to make sure that Daimon had got the hint, she grinned when she realized it was the one person that always managed to make her happy.
"Hey," she smiled shyly, despite the fact that she was standing on the stairs in front of her condo.
"How was your day?"
"Probably not as hectic as yours."
"It wasn't that bad," he chuckled, "Finals are coming up soon."
"I don't envy that," Moriah resumed her walk down the street. None of the people who passed by recognized her, and she was perfectly fine with that. Sometimes it was a pain to be stopped every five seconds to be asked for an autograph, "So, what do you have planned tonight, Mr. Declan McShane?"
She loved how his name sounded when she said it.
It was the three month anniversary since she had begun dating Declan. They had met on one of her private outings, while she had disguised herself. After she met him, Moriah was so entrapped with him, that she found it hard to be apart from him for only a day. He was nothing like the other men she had dated before.
Declan was kind, intelligent, independent, and supportive. He was nothing like the stuck-up, arrogant men that she was used to, who often dated her more for her glamour and celebrity status than just Moriah herself. At first she had thought it was simply because he was so different that Moriah was interested in him, but by the second month she knew there was something about him.
Standing outside the Skyway Diner, their usual meeting place, Moriah glanced behind her and grinned.
He had wide strides as he came towards her. There was a bookish appearance to him, and the long jacket that he wore over the white shirt and slacks only made him look more academic. Moriah ignored the fact that they were in public, and laughed at his yelp when she through her arms around his neck.
"I missed you."
There was an adorable tint of red on his cheeks as Declan dropped a kiss to the top of her forehead, "I missed you too, love."
"How have you been lately?" she slipped her arm through his as Declan led her into the diner. They frequented the little restaurant, mostly because it was low-key, and because she knew that Declan had a thing for the strawberry malts. He had never admitted it, but she picked up on it after noticing he ordered one every time they ate at Skyway.
"Good," he said, seating her at the table which was another trait about him that she found endearing, before sitting across from her, "Getting a little chaotic, but that's the way it goes at the end of the year."
"What are you planning to do this summer when school is out?"
He shrugged as he peered into the menu, "I'll be teaching some trial classes."
"Trial classes?"
"Yeah, at the college in mathematics. One of the professors is on sabbatical and is due to retire soon. The college scouted me out before because I have a doctorate, and because I've done research with some of the other professors there."
Moriah grinned, "That's wonderful!"
"What about you?" he asked.
I'm going to be doing photo shoots in New Zealand, England, the Bahamas, and Hawaii. I'm also a candidate for the upcoming international charity show in Paris. If I'm accepted, it'll be the biggest step of my career and an opportunity to be recognized around the world. "I'll be doing some overseas traveling over the summer."
Declan smiled, "I love traveling myself. Never get to do enough," he said, "So, what are you in the mood for tonight, love? Order anything you want."
"Cheeseburger," Moriah answer. She would be able to work it off later, but this night called for something more than soup and salad, "And fries with the works."
It was late in the evening when they made their way back to their apartment. Declan had picked up his mail, leafing through it as he stuffed their coats in the closet. Moriah caught a glance of a magazine sporting one of her latest photos on the front. She made a mental note later to tell Marcus that he was a genius.
Declan stared at the front of the magazine moment, frowning, and shaking his head, "This woman is in more and more ads, it seems."
"She's starting to get popular, I think," Moriah replied, "What do you think?"
"About what?"
"Her."
He stared at Moriah's picture a moment, and then shrugged, "She's beautiful, no less, but not my type."
Moriah was able to keep her expression in place at his comment. She knew that Declan was not a fan of large crowds, highly publicized situations, or celebrities in general. It was one of the few reasons that she had kept her true indentity from him.
"Would you like a glass of wine?" he asked, "I just bought a new bottle yesterday."
"Sure."
She sat on the sofa in the living room when he disappeared in the kitchen. Tucking her legs neatly under her, Moriah folded her skirt gently under her legs in order to prevent wrinkles. When she was sure that Declan was gone from the room, Moriah sighed sadly to herself.
She was in love with the man, that was something that Moriah had come to grips with.
Declan strolled back in the room, handed her a glass of wine, and sat next to her. He gave her a kind smile, "What do you think?"
Moriah took a sip, and thought. After a few moments, she nodded and made a mental note to tell her agent about the wine later. It would be good to serve at the gala socials.
"I like it."
"I'm glad," Declan replied, "Now, how about we stick in a movie?"
He adored her, and Moriah suspected that he was in love with her.
"Sure."
But he wasn't in love with her.
Declan glanced back at her, a worried look in his eyes, "Are you alright? You seem liked something in bothering you?"
Moriah beam at him, "Nothing. I'm just a little tired."
He stared at her a moment, and then nodded absently as he dug through the cabinet. Picking out something that was relaxing, he returned to his spot on the couch. Moriah smiled inwardly to herself, knowing that the woman Declan knew would never be so straight forward.
Moriah Adams as Ice loved him just as much as the Moriah Adams that she was playing at the moment. Making a quick decision to test the situation, Moriah set down her wine glass on the side table. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and then leaned over to rest her head on his chest.
His arm had been resting on the top of the couch, leaving him completely exposed. Declan glanced down at her in surprise as she cuddled against his chest, a content smile passing over her face. They had kissed each other a few times, but it was as far as they had managed to get so far. Willing himself to take the initiative, his moved his hand and stroked his fingers through her hair.
It was soft, and smelled heavenly. Occasionally he wondered what it was that she did to herself to look so perfect. Her skin was flawless, her hair was always in place, and her make-up was minimal, but still made her look stunning.
He forced himself to look back at the movie. Moriah was trusting him not to jump her the first time that she actually made a move towards him, and he was going to honor that, even though everything in his instincts told him not too.
A handful of hours passed by, and she stirred when a gentle hand touched her cheek. Moriah yawned to find that she had fallen asleep on Declan's shoulder. With an apologetic smile, she pecked him on the cheek in return, "Sorry, I kind of got lost on you."
"That's okay, you were tired," he replied, "It's late. If you want, you can..." he blushed a bit.
"Declan?"
"You can stay here if you want."
He was nervous, and despite all of the attention and past stage experience that Moriah had, she was nervous too. It was becoming harder to hold her facade in place, and Moriah was beginning to worry that he was going to catch on.
She wanted nothing more than Declan to love her the way she was, and not the woman she had played for him.
"Okay," Moriah nodded.
Moriah stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Declan had let her take the bathroom in the master bedroom while he had taken the one downstairs. Wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of drawstring pants, Moriah proceeded to braid her hair. It was a good way to keep tangles out of it.
Her agent would throw a fit if she knew that Moriah was wearing men's clothes, and not even bothering to moisturize her face. She chuckled at the thought, and came out of the bathroom to find Declan perched on the bed with a book in his lap, scribbling notes on a notebook resting beside him. Looking up when she came out, the color drained from his face.
"Moriah..." he gapped at her. She looked adorable in his clothes that swallowed her.
"It's a little big, but it's comfy," she grinned, turning around from him to see. Truth be told, he looked good in his white shirt and pajama pants. Walking around the bed, she took a spot on the other side, and grinned when she buried her face in the pillows, "Mmm."
They were soft, wonderful, and smelled like him.
Shaking his head in order to clear it, he set his things aside, and pulled the sheets back. They climbed in under the warm covers, and Declan reached over to switch the lamp off. Moriah felt his arms come around her, and his chest pressed firmly against her back. Despite his appearance, his had a strong, broad chest that she fit against.
"Good night, love," he kissed her neck, "I love you."
He was asleep. Moriah lay still in his arms, running his last comment over in her head. If she ever told him about who she was, he would most likely leave her. She loved him enough to know that if he did, it would probably break her for a very long time.
Her eyes drifted closed, and she rest her head on his forearm. She would do anything to stay with him, even if it meant giving up her life for him.
Declan woke to find Moriah still nestled tightly in his arms. He didn't really move a lot in his sleep, and it was nice to learn that she sleep soundly as well. His eyes drifted to the pale column of her neck. It was to tempting to simply lean closer and kiss her there, and then he could move down-
Woah.
She breathed deeply, and he could tell that she was still asleep. There was no harm in allowing himself to indulge a bit, as she probably wouldn't be aware of it anyway. Leaning closer, he gently brushed his lips over her neck. Her skin smelled like flowers and spring, and it drew him to lean further. Declan wasn't even aware that he was trailing his mouth down her throat until she made a soft whisper of a noise, and pressed closer to him.
His control snapped.
Moriah's eyes were still closed as he grasped her shoulder, and turned her onto her back. His mouth instantly covered hers, and he felt her kiss him in return, her arms circling around his neck. She pulled him closer, her legs rising to grasp his hips. It felt wonderful to have his weight pressing down on her, and his touch was so sweet that it almost made tears come to her eyes.
He still doesn't know who I am.
"Declan?"
He stopped and looked back at her, "Yes?"
They were both breathing raggedly, and she couldn't help but blush at he gazed at her. His hair was disheveled from sleeping, and his green eyes bore into the back of her mind to the point where she thought it was possible to fall in them.
Moriah had experience. She had dated celebrities, wealthy men, supermodels, and none of them had really sparked anything other than friendly affection in her. Daimon had been the last man that she had dated seriously, and her last real mistake.
Declan was nothing like any of them. He wasn't a self-absorbed, arrogant jackass that cared nothing except about money and his appearance. There was no doubt in her mind, however, that if he learned who she really was, that he would hate her.
Moriah touched his face, and kissed him, "Nothing," she shook her head, "Nevermind."
When Moriah left his apartment that next morning, she smiled, stretched her arms, and thought that today was going to be a good day. There was a slight skip in her step as she hopped down the stairs of Declan's apartment, and caught a taxi to head back to her condo.
The man behind the bushes snapped a picture, and sneered to himself when he realized that he would be making twice the money than he originally thought.
Ice had a lover.
Declan dried his hair with a towel when he came out of the shower. He couldn't stop smiling at himself when he made his way into the kitchen. Moriah had made coffee for him, and he couldn't help but sigh when he found that it tasted amazing.
She was a beautiful woman. He couldn't ever remember seeing a more beautiful woman than she. Declan figured part of it was her ice-blue eyes. They were hypnotizing and aware, like she could read everything with simply a look. Turning on the TV, he sat down at the table to read the paper. There was still some time before class, and he lived so close that he could walk.
The morning news was on, he took a sip of his coffee, and found his eyes drifting over the International News section. There was a feature about a fashion show in Paris that was being hosted for world charity. Many of the world's major models would be showing designs from companies all over the world, and many of the world's major celebrities and various government representatives would be attending.
"...the show, now called the Exodus, it estimated to bring in millions of dollars, all of which will be donated to world charity organizations. Corporations all over the world have donated resources for this event, and many nations will be sending representatives to show support. After a long process of interviewing and selection, a group of twenty models will be sent to Paris to represent the United States in this even. One of these models is a local celebrity, known as Ice. Her agent has reported that the up-and-coming young lady is excited about the event, and says that she is honored to represent this country..."
Declan looked up in interest.
Moriah couldn't stop beaming. She had been hugged by her assistants, her agent, Marcus, and everyone else that she passed by.
The Paris show was something that her agent had been negotiating for months. It had been a long shot, considering that there were other experienced models that had applied, but in the end she had earned it. But the months of interviews, of mock shows, of making connections, had finally paid off.
"You earned it, babe," Marcus laid a hand on the top of her head, "You want to hear something that will make your day even better?"
"What?"
"Daimon didn't get picked."
Her eyes grew wide a moment, and then she burst out laughing. The man had boasted that he was going to get it, and Moriah thought the irony was hilarious.
"I'm so nervous and happy at the same time," she said, "What if is I mess up? The entire world will see."
"You'll do fine," Marcus chuckled, "Wait and see. Hey, who are you going to invite with your guest pass?"
Moriah thought a moment, and found herself wishing for a moment that she could bring Declan with. She really didn't have any family outside Marcus, her agent, and the friends from her job. But she knew that it would be impossible to have Declan there, no matter how much she would want him there.
The door to her dressing room burst open, and her agent came in. The woman was her age, a former press reporter turned celebrity agent, and had a spit-fire personality that was a valuable asset. Cybil Ray was always dressed impeccably, calm, and organized to a fault. When she came in the dressing room however, she looked anything but calm.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Moriah frowned, "Tell you what?"
"That you were dating someone?" Cybil said, "Christ, Moriah, I could have helped you protect him."
A wave of panic rushed through her head, "What happened?"
Cybil switched on the television to reveal Daimon on screen, a sympathetic look on his face, but Moriah could see the smirk in his eyes.
"Could repeat that for us, Mr. Delgado?" the reporter asked, "What did you mean that Ice cheated on you with another man and that's why you two broke up?"
Daimon sighed, "She cheated on me with a man who wasn't a celebrity, which was how she could keep it out of the papers. She was always so smart, it was no big feat for her to hide it from me and everyone else if it was a man out of the media's attention."
Moriah's mouth dropped open. No.
"How did you figure this out?"
"I suspected that she was lying to me about her whereabouts, so I hired a private detective to follow her."
Suddenly, the picture of her standing outside Declan's apartment that morning was plastered on the screen. There was no doubt that most of the country saw it, and Moriah thought for a moment that she was going to be visibly sick.
"Moriah?" Marcus frowned, seeing her pale face, "Are you alright?"
Declan would be furious with her.
Her cellphone rang, making her jump. Moriah reached into her purse, and pulled it out.
Declan McShane.
Her hands were shaking, Cybil touched her shoulder, "Is that him?"
Moriah nodded. She pressed the button, and answered it.
"Hello?"
"Moriah?" Declan's voice sounded on the other side of the phone. He sounded shaky, "Moriah, is it true? Are you really-"
"I'm so sorry," she sniffed, tears spilling over the edge of her eyes, "I'm sorry, Declan."
"Why did you-"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lie to you, I just loved you too much and I knew that you couldn't stand people like...me," her voice trembled, "I'm sorry it ended like this, and I never meant to drag you into it. If the press bothers you, contact my agent and we'll take care of it."
"Moriah-"
"Good-bye Delcan."
Marcus and Cybil stared at her as she hung up. Moriah stared at her phone a moment, and then handed it to Marcus, "Um...excuse me. I'm going to take a break."
They watched her walk over to the door that led to her dressing room, and close the door quietly behind her.
The next few weeks were reserved for getting ready for Exodus, and Moriah did her best to try and put on a happy face for everyone. Marcus worried about her, Cybil avoided in the subject knowing that it would only upset Moriah, and Moriah herself buried herself in her work.
Marcus sat on top of a crate as Moriah took a sip of her water. They had been working for the last five hours straight, fitting the last remaining fashions that she would be wearing for the show.
"How are you holding up?"
"Okay," Moriah asked, "A little tired though."
"Has Mr. McShane called you?"
She visibly stiffened, and took another drink of water, "No."
Moriah had finally told Marcus about her relationship with Declan McShane. It didn't surprise her at all that Declan hadn't contacted her, and she honestly didn't expect him too. She had essentially betrayed her trust, and that was something that she could never forgive herself for.
"Moriah, will you tell me one thing?"
She thought a moment, and then nodded.
"Did you love him?"
Tears were stinging the back of her eyes, and she willed herself not to cry. The makeup she was wearing had taken an hour to finish, "Yes."
Marcus nodded grimly, and the patted her shoulder, stroking her hair to try and calm her. He considered her a friend, and worried about her, "Thank you for taking me with your guest pass. Wasn't there someone else that you could have taken, though? Family?"
She shook her head, "No, there wasn't anyone else I wanted to take," she sighed, "Not anymore."
Declan sat at his desk in his apartment tapping his pencil on the tabletop. It was obvious now, so obvious that he was surprised that he missed it.
The eyes were the same.
She had always temporarily dyed her hair when they met, but her natural color made her look stunning. Declan could still barely believe it that his lover was the Moriah Adams, the same woman who was the model Ice.
Since the news story, he hadn't tried to call her again. Initially he had been hurt that she had hid her identity from him, but now he understood why she had done it. He distinctly remembered making a comment about Ice not being his type, had that hurt her when he had said it?
He had allowed himself time in the two weeks to think about what he wanted to do. Looking at the clock, he frowned, knowing that it was the evening and there was nothing to do. Normally, he would call Moriah over, and they would cuddle on the sofa and watch TV.
Declan glanced at the empty sofa. With a groan, he thunked his forehead on the desktop. He couldn't let her go, he just couldn't.
There was a knock at his apartment door. He frowned and stood up, unlocking the door and opening it.
"Can I help you?"
The man was a little taller than Declan. His brown hair was neatly combed back, and he was wearing a black dress shirt and slacks. He had a bag hung on his shoulder, a dress bag resting on his back, and a look of determination on his face.
"We don't have much time."
"Excuse me?" Declan looked confused.
"You're Declan McShane, right?"
"Right."
"My name is Marcus Bourdeux," the man said, "I'm a friend of Moriah Adams."
"The last 'friend' of Moriah's used me as a way to discredit her," Declan scowled, "Please leave-"
Marcus caught the door with his free hand before Declan could slam the door in his face, "I am a friend of Moriah's. I'm here to help you."
"I don't need your help."
"There's only twenty four hours until the Paris show opens. There's one flight that leaves in four hours that we could make and get to the show on time," Marcus replied, "I'm here to make sure you're on that flight."
Declan swallowed tightly, "What are you talking about?"
"Moriah wanted you to be there. She's wished that you could have been there," Marcus glared, "Do you love her?"
Declan looked away and leaned on the door jam for support. He loved her more than life itself, and it didn't seem to matter who she was. The fact that he hadn't seen her in weeks ripped through him, and he missed her with every fiber of his being.
"Yes."
"Good, because she loves you too," Marcus replied, "Now, I'm here without Moriah knowing. Her agent sent over some things for you. How quickly can you pack?"
He felt like he was being swept away, but Declan knew he had to go, "Five minutes."
"Alright," Cybil continued to fuss with Moriah's dress. The dress was Dior, and the most amazing thing that Moriah had ever seen. It was strapless, a mid-night blue, and tied in the back with laces instead of zippers and buttons, and was worth close to ten grand. "Marcus sent word that his flight was delayed. The escort we have for you is with them, so we'll be meeting them there."
The social was the opening of the show, which was taking place tomorrow. Moriah would be spending the rest of the day mingling with the high-class society donors and representatives. Cybil and Marcus had told her to enjoy herself, and to forget about the events in the past couple of weeks. After some thought, Moriah had decided to use this as an opportunity to make connections internationally, and to meet new people.
This was her chance to start over.
"Your all set," Cybil smiled, "The limo is here, I'll get your coat."
Moriah nodded, and looked back in the mirror. Her hair was clipped to the top of her head in a simple clip, but little diamond sequence dotted her hair, giving the illusion of snow or raindrops in her hair. There was a long diamond-sapphire necklace that cascaded down her neck like a waterfall, and matching earrings. The jewelry was on loan, and one earring alone could have been worth someones salary for a year.
Her black cloak had silk lining and diamond-studded buttons. She snuggled in it, and smiled at the feel of it against her skin. Cybil led her out of the hotel and out to the black limo. Moriah made a face as she was helped into the car, and the door was shut.
"He just got off the plane himself, and will be meeting us there in about an hour," Cybil sighed. She was wearing a crimson red dress, which Moriah commented looked stunning on her agent, "There was a snow storm back in the states."
"It's not that big of a deal. I'm used to large functions like this," Moriah shrugged, "There will be other people without an escort."
She tried to hide her nervousness as they arrived at the banquet hall. The door opened, and Moriah pulled out a bright smile as the cameras flashed. Normally, she would have loved the attention, but for some reason Moriah couldn't bring herself to care.
They stopped at the front entrance behind a crowd of people. Cybil's phone rang, and she smiled at the familiar voice, "Marcus, where the hell are you?" she murmured in a hushed whisper. Moriah was currently being asked a few questions by a reporter, and a few others were snapping pictures of her. Being the youngest model in the entire Exodus show, Moriah would be the the subject of many interested parties at the show.
"We're here. In the limo behind yours, we're pulling up now," Marcus replied, "Except for the storm, I got everything taken care of. We'll have to jail the make-up artist and hair stylist though."
Cybil rolled her eyes, "What was it this time?"
"Apparently they enjoyed working with our guest so much that I had to pull them away. One of them made a comment that he would be excellent for a few ads that we have waiting in the wings."
She chuckled, "That's great. Thanks, Marcus."
"No, thank you, Cybil."
When he hung up, she turned to Moriah, tapping her on the shoulder, "Marcus is here with your escort," Cybil pointed at the black stretch limo that pulled up. Moriah nodded, and followed Cybil as they went to greet the two gentlemen.
Marcus was the first to appear. He was wearing a charcoal, silk suit, and looked as perfect as ever. He flashed a sparkling smile to the onlookers, Marcus stepped back to allow the man behind him to come out.
Moriah's heart stopped, and she lost her ability to breath.
Declan McShane took a step out onto the red carpeted isle. His hair was combed back, a few strands had slipped out and fell in front of his eyes. His glasses had been removed, and Marcus had found a pair of contacts for him. He was wearing a black tuxedo that Moriah recognized as Armani, and he looked simply gorgeous. When he caught sight of her, she watched his eyes grow wide, and then he smiled.
"It's my honor to escort you tonight, Miss Adams." When he came to stand in front of her, Declan leaned forward to gently peak her cheek. The cameras snapped widely as people murmured, interested in who the young model's love interest was, "May I mention that you look absolutely beautiful tonight?"
"You..." she then smiled, "You look wonderful," as she slipped her hand onto the crook of his elbow. He lead her down the isle towards the hall, and as they entered the building he leaned over and whispered into her ear.
"I love you, Moriah."
She gasped, and looked up at him. He had taken the initiative and stepped into her world. Moriah made a mental note later to tell him just how well he seemed to fit in. When she noticed the slight blush on his own cheeks, and remembered that Declan was still just the same man that he always was.
"I love you too."
There would be things to discuss later, but for now, they smiled back at each other and strolled into the hall.