Chapter 1

"Hey mom, what floor is the photo shoot again?" I asked cheerfully.

"Hon, it's on the 22nd floor. Just inform the guard on the lobby that you're here for Andrea and he'll let you in. I already instructed him about it, so there won't be a problem. Thanks so much sweetie, I don't know what I'll do without you," she said on the other line.

"No problem mom, school is still a week away, so I'm not busy or anything. Ok, I'm nearly there, see you in a bit, bye." I ended the call and continued driving. Once I found a parking spot, I maneuvered the car expertly to the area and stopped. I grabbed the keys and the bag that my mom requested and went on my way to the building.

I whistled softly when I saw the building that I'd be entering. Wow, my mom's client must be rich or famous. This skyscraper was one of the largest here in the city. It was a good thing that I was only headed to the 22nd floor. I was not particularly thrilled with heights.

The guard that mom was referring to greeted me on the lobby. Once I told him my mom's name, he showed me to the elevators, and I thanked him before pushing the button for my stop. No one entered the elevator car on my way up, giving me enough time to ponder on things. My mom was usually an organized person. I wondered why she forgot the bag that she was going to use for work.

The elevator opened with a ding and I walked casually to the floor. I headed to the room that mom indicated and entered after knocking. Inside, everyone was busy preparing for the photo shoot. Photographers were setting up their equipments, people who were in charge of the wardrobe were carefully selecting an outfit, and different individuals were doing their own set of tasks. In the corner sat my mom Andrea, the make-up artist.

She's been a businesswoman all her life but switched to this line of work 5 years ago to pursue her real calling. At first, she started with small clients. As years passed, her clientele grew, and today, she's known as one of the top make-up artists in the area. With her expertise, it was no surprise that she bagged a big gig like this. I wonder who her client was this time.

"Hey mom," I greeted while handing the bag to her.

"Thanks sweetheart! You're such a lifesaver. I was so caught up in work that I forgot to bring my other makeup kit. It's lucky that you came in time. I have a big client that I don't want to disappoint." She gave me a huge smile, the edge of her eyes crinkling.

I took a good look at my mom, a 40 year old woman. To say that she was beautiful was an understatement because she was drop dead gorgeous. She could have easily been an actress with her looks, but she chose to be a makeup artist instead, which I was totally cool with. She had reddish shoulder-length hair, brown eyes that seemed to look into your soul, and a quirky smile that never failed to bring one to my own lips.

People would often say that I was an exact copy of her, only younger, but I never believed them. While her hair was soft and silky, mine was long and untamable. Maybe I got that from my father who passed away when I was young. Our eyes were different too. Hers were soulful while mine was just plain old brown. I think the only thing we had in common with regards to our appearance was our height of 5'8" and a slender body. At least I got that from her.

"Have you eaten breakfast yet Dulce? If you haven't there's food in the other room for the staff. You're welcome to eat there," she said.

"I already ate mom. I'll just go and catch some sleep; it looks like you're going to be busy for the day. Just tell me all about it when you get home," I replied with a smile.

She nodded. "Sure, see you later."

After giving her a wave, I exited the door and made my way outside the building. Once I reached the sidewalk, I glanced around and noticed a café. I absolutely loved coffee, and since I was in a hurry to get here, I wasn't able to drink my daily cup. It wouldn't hurt if I had one now.

I almost skipped to the coffee shop. The familiar aroma of beans and cream wafted in my nose as soon as I opened the door. The scent alone perked me up. Aside from me, only two people were inside- a twenty-something guy wearing business attire and a girl about my age donning tight jeans and an Armani t-shirt that accentuated her toned and slender body.

I glanced at the girl. Though her face was partly covered by Ray-bans, and her hair was hidden by the cap she was wearing with her ponytail, she looked very familiar. It was like I'd seen her before. I quickly dismissed the idea since I'd never been in this part of the city.

I waited patiently in line behind the girl, marveling at how great she smelled. What perfume was she wearing? Maybe I should ask her. Before I got the courage to bring my hands up and tap the girl's shoulder, the guy in front of the line turned around and spilled coffee all over her white shirt.

"Ouch! Ouch!" the girl flailed her hands helplessly at her shirt. The man just stared at her and instead of apologizing; he quickly got out of the café, leaving the girl behind. What a total jerk!

As for me, I hurriedly grabbed tissue from the counter and wiped the girl's chest with it without even thinking. She recoiled from me, but I still tried to dab the tissue, knowing that she was hurt and soaking wet with coffee.

"Oh my gosh miss, are you hurt?" I said in panic.

"Please don't touch me, who are you?" she asked, pushing my hands away.

I stopped what I was doing and stared at her. "Well are you hurt or not?" I inquired. Here I was so worried about her, and she didn't appear to be in pain like I originally thought.

"Not really," she replied. The girl glanced down on her shirt and groaned. I followed her gaze and noticed her bra through the shirt, which was already semi-transparent because of the spilled coffee. I quickly looked away and blushed.

"Come with me, I have an extra shirt inside my car," I told her. Before she could even object, I was already pulling her out of the café and straight to the parking lot. She covered her chest area with her hands while we walked.

Once we reached the car, I instructed her to enter the back, while I rummaged inside my bag in front. I found the grey shirt that I always kept for emergency purposes and handed it to her behind me.

"Thanks," she murmured. She removed her sunglasses and the cap before pulling her hair tie, letting her raven-black hair loose. I noticed her coffee colored eyes and got lost in them for a moment.

She caught me looking and met my gaze which made my heart beat crazy, like a love struck teenager who just hit her puberty. Well that made sense since I was only 17, but damn my heart hasn't pounded this hard for a long time. She surprised me even more by removing the wet shirt she was wearing while I was still openly staring at her.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I stammered.

"I'm changing, is there something wrong with that?" Her tone was businesslike, as if she was used to other people seeing her change.

"Uhm, err, nothing at all. Just hurry so no one will see you," I replied with a slight tremble in my voice while turning my face in front. This girl was shameless.

After a few seconds, she tapped my shoulders, prompting me to turn in her direction. "I'm done," she said. "Look uhh what's your name again?"

"It's Dulce," I told her.

"Alright Dulce... I need to go now. Thanks so much for lending the shirt. I'll give it back to you I promise. Can you give me your number so I can contact you once I had it washed? Or if you like, I can just pay you right now for it so we don't have to go through the trouble. I'm very busy you see," she said while flipping her hair. If there was a chance that I'd see this pretty girl with the coffee colored eyes again, I'd take it.

"No, you don't have to pay me. I'll give you my number," I said quickly. She took her phone from her jeans pocket and punched in the number I recited.

"Oh, I almost forgot to ask your name," I said to her.

She gave a smile, one that highlighted her straight nose, full lips, and beautiful eyes. "I'm Glace, nice to meet you stranger," she said with a low voice while placing her hands in front of her to shake mine.

I reached out and touched her soft palm. I bet my hands were dripping with sweat from nervousness, but she didn't seem to mind. Letting go was far from my thoughts, but I had to after a few seconds, or she might think I was crazy.

"You know, next time, you should think twice before pulling a girl inside your car. One might think that you don't have a good intention," she teased.

"But, but I'm not," I stuttered.

"I know," she winked, making my stomach do a small flip.

"So, I guess I'll see you around Glace," I said shyly.

"Yeah you too Dulce, by the way, what school do you go to?" I told her the name of the high school I'd be attending next week.

"What about you?" I asked in return.

"I was homeschooled," she replied. "But I'm in 12th grade like you." She glanced at her watch. "I'd love to stay and chat Dulce, but I still have something to do. I'll call or text you as soon as I get the chance."