Fake It With Me, Anita

ANITA'S POV

"Thank you," I muttered to the waitress as she served my third glass of Pimm's cup.

She was looking at me curiously and I had to stylishly adjust my huge dark sunglasses and pull the baggie hoodie over my head even more.

I couldn't afford to let her discover my identity.

I took a sip from my drink and impatiently glanced at my wristwatch for the umpteenth time.

I needed to see this person and be out of here as soon as possible.

I couldn't sit still, and he was running really late. Another episode with those god-damned reporters was certainly not a welcomed idea to me at the moment.

This was the only café in the city I knew would be difficult for them to find me. It was unpopular even though it was located downtown and Kristen had insisted I could have a smooth meeting with Mr. Rivers here.

He seemed like the only one who might be able to rescue my falling career and stop me from reaching rock bottom permanently.

In Kristen's words; 'Ms. Richardson, it was difficult arranging this meeting with Mr. Rivers' secretary. So you must be there on time and hopefully, we can get him to help you.'

I glanced towards the waitress again, she was behind the counter now, stealing uncertain glances at me while she discreetly answered a call.

One glance at the mini television hung at the top wall of the café, made me realized I was in a really deep shit.

A broadcast was ongoing and it was about me. And of course, it wasn't a good one.

*NYC's top model 'Anita Richardson', involved in a 'one night stand' scandal.*

The headline itself was tantalizing enough for anyone who cared to listen to become immediately interested. Thankfully, there weren't much customers in the cafeteria presently, otherwise someone would have discovered me.

How my life changed overnight after that unfortunate one night stand was something I couldn't have imagined.

One thing was certain though; I was framed. But by who? Who hated me this much in the industry to take such lengths just to bring me down?

As far as I was concerned, I had always minded my business and never intentionally offended anyone all through the five years of my profession as a top model in New York City.

"Ms. Richardson?" I heard someone suddenly said, making me choke on my drink.

Slowly, I stared through my huge dark sunglasses at the intruder, hoping it was Mr. Rivers; whom I have never met before by the way, although I was certain to recognize him at first glance because Kristen had showed me some photos of him before she had dropped me off.

An averaged height, chubby looking man stared back at me with widened eyes, filled with a curiousity I'd been forced to become familiar with since the last few days.

This was certainly not Mr. Rivers. My gaze trailed him from head to toe. He looked absolutely-nothing like him.

"Uhm...Excuse me?" I glanced back at him warily, hoping he wasn't a reporter. He wasn't dressed like one but there was no way I could mistake the look in those small eyes of his. It seemed like that of a curious, scheming reporter.

"It's you, right? You're the famous model, Anita Richardson, right?"

"..."

I hadn't had time to even react when the cafeteria suddenly became crowded by newsmen and the media. It happened so freaking fast.

But how? How did they find out I was here?

Instantly, it dawned on me and I turned to send her a glare.

On finding my eyes on her, the brunette haired waitress immediately avoided meeting my gaze, and pretended to be busy.

Ha! It was her.

I needed to leave immediately.

I stood up and tried to run off but they'd already crowded me now, pushing those damned microphones and cameras to my face as their list of endless highly ridiculous questions, rolled off their tongues.

"Ms. Richardson, how do you feel about your body being exposed to the public without your consent?"

"Was it a publicity scheme?"

"Could you share the identity of the mysterious young man you had been with that night?"

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"How do you feel about this scandal?"

"Are you going to quit modeling because of this?"

"What has your agency said about this?"

With their numerous questions, came the constant flashings of their camera lights on my face. My breathing became uneven as my heart pounded furiously against my chest.

How do I get out of here? Ah, Kristen! How do I call her to come get me out of here immediately?

"..."

My lips trembled visibly while my legs seemed to be rooted on the spot. Words failed me at this point.

How was I to explain the situation, answer their questions or even get them to get off my sight and leave me alone?

'Anita, try to run.' I chided myself mentally but my legs refused to budge.

I was frightened to the point I recounted the first time I had experienced stage fright.

"What insolence are you displaying in the presence of my wife?!" A deep masculine yet unfamiliar voice suddenly said loudly, causing an instant commotion amidst the reporters and media.

'Wife?!' I scoffed within me, raising my gaze to see who dared addressed me as a 'wife'.

They gave way for him to walk through as their camera lights began flashing and their ever ready questions kicked off.

"What? Wife?"

"Ms. Richardson is married?"

"Isn't this the CEO of Opulence Entertainment?"

"I know this young man. He's Ryan Ri..."

I zoned out their voices instantly at the sight of the tall, well built, handsome young man, dressed in a fitted black business suit, and my jaw dropped.

Mr. Rivers?

My eyes were widened even more when he walked up to me and placed an arm around my shoulders passionately.

"Now, what accusations have you been declaring against my dear wife?" He said, flashing the reporters a stern look.

What the hell is going on, Kristen? Is this Mr. Rivers' pattern of saving me?