*Isabella's POV*
"This is nice," Elly said, her voice a lazy drawl as we were sprawled out on the plush, cream-coloured leather seats of Jacob's jet. The cabin was so quiet it felt like we were floating in our own private bubble, miles above any kind of reality.
"I was planning to take a nap," she said, stretching her arms over my head, "but I guess I can talk to you." she snorted. "You're horrible. I missed you," I said, and I did. Her sharp, no-bullshit attitude was a refreshing change of pace from the complicated mess I'd left behind.
"Then come to New York more often," she said, winking at me. "I know someone would be very happy if you do."
"Uh, you?" I retorted, completely clueless, my mind still a tangled mess.
"Quit playing with me," she said, rolling her eyes. "You know what I'm saying. Everybody knows."
"Everybody knows what?" I asked, still not getting it.
"Jacob is going around telling everyone about his beautiful girlfriend from Raleigh," she said, a smug, self-satisfied smile spreading across her face.
"He did what!" I exclaimed, my voice a little too loud in the quiet cabin. My cheeks instantly felt like they were on fucking fire.
"What can I say?" Elly said, shrugging like it was the most normal thing in the world. "The boy is whipped. Whipped, I tell you."
My stomach did a nervous little flip-flop. "Uhm, he told everyone? Even at work?" I asked, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious, like I was some kind of office trophy.
"Yeah, I think so," she replied, her expression softening slightly as she saw my panic.
"Damn," I sighed, slumping down into the ridiculously comfortable seat. So much for keeping things quiet.
"Don't worry," she said, her tone shifting to be more reassuring. "Nobody will judge you. Everyone is pretty laid-back in the offices here in New York. And everyone knows Jacob is..." she trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging, but the implication was clear. Everyone knew Jacob was a player, a charmer, and for some reason, he'd chosen me. It felt like I was wearing a giant, flashing sign that said 'Property of Jacob Lancaster'.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, my voice tight with defensiveness. I hated how she could just say shit like that, like she knew everything, like she could see right through my carefully constructed armour.
"Oh, I didn't mean it like that," she said, waving a dismissive hand. "Stop frowning, you're gonna get wrinkles." She paused, her tone softening slightly. "He's always so hyped up, that doesn't mean he's not into you."
"Like I'm sure he was into many before," I countered, rolling my eyes and turning to look out of the window at the endless expanse of clouds below. The familiar, bitter taste of jealousy was back on my tongue.
"No, not really," she replied, her voice firm. "Save it, Elly. Don't sugar-coat it, we all know Jacob," I said, my voice flat. I was so fucking tired of the games, of the half-truths and the secrets.
"Well, I think I know him better than you," she said, her voice dropping to a more serious, protective tone. "And trust me when I say this, it's been one month since he's been back in New York, and he's had no action. Do you know what that means? He's dedicated."
"What? One month without sex? So what? Does he deserve a fucking medal?" I countered, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I really don't think you know him, Isabella," she retorted, her own defensiveness flaring up. "I'm his driver, I used to see him with maybe four girls a week, sometimes two per night." She said it so casually, like she was talking about the weather.
"What?" I exclaimed, my head snapping back to look at her. My stomach did a sickening lurch. Four girls a week? Two a night?
"I've already spoken too much," she said, looking away, a flicker of guilt on her face. "One last thing, though. Don't fucking break his heart, he's too precious. And if you do, I'll stab you. I'm not joking." Her voice was low, serious, and I knew, with a chilling certainty, that she meant every single word despite her playful after tone.
"Okay, I brought a change of clothes," Elly said, her voice pulling me from my brooding thoughts as the pilot's calm voice announced we would be landing soon.
"Here?" I asked, my voice flat.
"I don't think there's gonna be time to change when we get there," she said. "I have to drive you from the airport to the Hamptons, remember? We'll get there when the party has already started, so I brought you a swimsuit and a dress. Jacob sent them."
"I have my own clothes," I said, rolling my eyes, but a little warmth bloomed in my chest. The thought of him thinking of me, even in the middle of his own drama, was... nice.
"Come on, stop being a bitch right now," Elly said, her tone teasing but firm. "The man bought you the most beautiful, not to mention expensive, dress I've ever seen in my life. Try it on."
I took the designer bag she handed me, my curiosity piqued. I made my way to the small, luxurious bathroom at the back of the jet and closed the door. Inside was a dress. It was a dark, midnight blue, made of a soft, velvety material. I slipped it on. It hugged my curves perfectly, the neckline plunging just enough to be daring, showcasing my cleavage without being slutty. The back was low, and a long, daring slit ran up the side, reaching the middle of my thigh.
I walked back to Elly, who looked at me, wide-eyed and stunned. "You look smashing," she said, her voice full of genuine awe.
"Please, I look smashing in everything," I said confidently, a slow, sly smile spreading across my face.
"You do," she said, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. "But do something about your face. Those bags under your eyes are going to be a problem. You're going to a party in the Hamptons, not a funeral. You're going to a party in the Hamptons for crying out loud."
"Gee, thanks," I sighed, my good mood instantly deflating. "Like I wasn't self-conscious enough already."
"You're self-conscious? Stop fishing for compliments and put on some makeup. We're landing soon," she said, rolling her eyes.
I did as she said, applying a light layer of makeup, just enough to cover up the evidence of my under eye bags and emotional turmoil. I then took the hair tie out of my hair, letting my curly hair fall freely around my shoulders and down my upper back.
"That's better," she said, a satisfied smile on her face.