Ugly duckling is swept off her feet by Prince Charming.
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Eloise Goddard plugged her earphones into her iPod and picked up her book. The plastic sandwich that she’d been served didn’t appeal to her and she could smell the food being served in front of the curtain. She giggled at her envy. She could’ve been up there if only she’d agreed to her boss’s request.
At 22 years old she was, in her boss Peter’s words, the world’s best PA. Obviously not good enough to put on a permanent contract, as she’d temped as his PA for the last two years. But she was good enough for him to keep for two years, something that his last half dozen PA’s before Eloise hadn’t achieved. In fact, none of them had lasted even a year. He wasn’t an easy man to work for. He was incredibly demanding, but Eloise loved her work. He was the editor of one of the most successful tabloids and she felt like she was right in the middle of all the news stories as they happened.
When Eloise had told him about the invitation to her sister’s wedding Peter had been completely fired up. Lenore Goddard was considered one of the most beautiful women in the world and was the most famous supermodel of her generation. Her engagement and impending wedding to a famous Italian football star was considered the celebrity wedding of the year, if not the decade. The wedding photos had of course been sold to one of the glossy weekly magazines for an undisclosed, yet known to be considerable, amount of money.
No journalists were going to be allowed anywhere near the star studded events, and there was his PA with a front row ticket. He’d begged her to take one of his journalists along as her date and he’d bought her one of the most expensive mobile phones on the market with a top notch built in digital camera. He’d tried to bribe her with first class travel, limousines and luxury hotels, but Eloise wouldn’t give in.
She didn’t know where her loyalty to her sister came from. Lenore hadn’t shown much loyalty to her. Eloise knew that she wasn’t anywhere near as pretty as her sister. Lenore was tall and slim, with their mother’s jet black hair. The only part of their looks that they shared were their silver blue eyes. Eloise was only 5’2″, with an hourglass figure and a wild mane of unruly strawberry blonde curls. But despite this, and the fact that the sisters hadn’t seen much of each other for the last 10 years since Lenore was spotted by a modelling agency at the age of 17, they were all each other had. Their parents had died in a car crash when Eloise was a toddler and they’d shared an unhappy childhood with an aunt and uncle who’d made it clear that they didn’t want the girls. So it had come as a bitter blow when Lenore had called Eloise and broken the news that her services as a bridesmaid wouldn’t be required.
“I know how uptight you get about people taking photos,” Lenore had said. She’d obviously convinced herself that she was doing this for Eloise. “And this new and exciting designer who’s making my dress has offered me a lot of money if I’ll let him dress my bridesmaids as well so they’ll have to be used to having their photos taken and not shy away from the cameras.”
Eloise knew fine well that Lenore was a perfectionist and that appearance was all that mattered to her. It wouldn’t be aesthetically pleasing to have Eloise in the photos, a foot shorter (and probably a foot wider as well) than everybody else in the wedding party, which was bound to be made up of Lenore and Marco’s model and football friends. She would stick out like a sore thumb, and the designer probably didn’t make short size 12 dresses anyway. At that point she’d been very tempted to say yes to Peter’s proposal. But even though Lenore didn’t seem to care all that much for her little sister, Eloise’s loyalty still lay with Lenore.
When Eloise had cleared immigration and customs in Milan she found the bus that would take her to Bergamo. She’d read about Lenore’s wedding plans in the gossip magazines (her sister had been too busy to tell Eloise about them) and knew that the rich and famous friends of the bride and groom were to be picked up in limousines. That courtesy obviously wasn’t extended to fat and frumpy nobody sisters. Lenore hadn’t even asked, just assumed that Eloise would be happy to use public transport. When she reached the station in Bergamo she caught a taxi and gave him the address of the stately home where the wedding was being held. There were security men stationed at the gate and she had to show her invitation, which was carefully scrutinised, on her way in. When the taxi turned around the corner she was flabbergasted. She’d never seen anything as impressive as this. She immediately realised why Lenore had chosen to get married here. It looked like a fairytale castle.
“Si, signorina,” said the receptionist and smiled a smile that made Eloise weak at the knees. She’d never been to Italy before, but if all men were like this, she understood why Lenore had fallen for an Italian. “How can I help you?”
“I’m here for my sister’s wedding. There should be a room booked for me. Eloise Goddard.”
“YOU’re Eloise Goddard?” he said with a look of confusion. Eloise was used to this. People expected Lenore’s sister to be as beautiful as she was, not a fat and frumpy PA from London.
“Yes,” she said with barely hidden impatience. “I know I don’t look like her, but we’re definitely sisters.”
“Forgive me for sounding so rude,” his smile made her weak at the knees. “I knew you didn’t look like your sister, but you’re nothing like the girl who was described to me. Now let me take you to your room.”
He walked around the reception desk and picked up her bag. He then walked her through a maze of stairs and corridors until they reached her room. It was the most beautiful hotel room Eloise had ever seen, and she was convinced that she could fit her entire apartment inside it.
“Thank you very much,” she said to the receptionist. “You wouldn’t have a map of this place, would you? I don’t think I’ll ever manage to find this room on my own.”
“Then just come to reception and ask for me and I’ll be happy to show you back.” He smiled that smile again. “My name is Vincenzo.”
Eloise closed the door behind him and giggled with butterflies in her stomach. Vincenzo had done something to her that no other man had ever managed before. He wasn’t overly macho, the way she’d expected most Italian men to be. Nor was he pushy and flirty. There was just something so incredibly masculine about him, and an air of understated confidence that made her feel that she was the only woman in the world every time he looked at her. She’d only just managed to unpack when there was a knock on her door and Lenore stormed in.
“What are you doing in this suite?” she demanded to know. “Since you were on your own I’ve only booked you a single room. If you were offered an upgrade I hope you’ve got money to pay for it yourself.”
“Good to see you too, sis,” Eloise said through gritted teeth. Her sister was worth millions and could easily afford to splash out a few extra pounds on making sure that Eloise had a comfortable stay at the wedding, especially since Eloise had used her meagre savings to buy a plane ticket to come to the wedding. “I didn’t say anything when I checked in. This was the room that was given to me.”
“Oh, they must have upgraded you for free seeing how you’re my sister. Excellent! I knew it was a good idea to tell them that you’re my sister. Now, what are you wearing to the wedding?”