Pretty Woman Novels & Stories

Julia I turn to face the woman and for a moment I am thrown. The woman looks to be in her late 40s and she is absolutely beautiful. She has red hair pulled back in a bun and bright green eyes, she has a beautiful dress on but her clothes along with her jewelry scream money. However, she works in a charity shop, so there could be more to it.

"Oh, please, Mr. Lowe. We're not fools. Look at her. She dresses worse than the cleaning staff." She folded her arms and added, "She practically screams broke. You expect us to believe she's the CEO's sister? You definitely made that up to protect her." Dylan immediately looked relieved. Then, he gave me a once-over full of contempt. "She didn't even know proper etiquette the last time I took her to a fine dining restaurant." He scoffed. "How could she be this embarrassing if she were actually rich?" Pain stabbed straight through my chest. I had dressed simply on purpose.

I greeted in a polite tone. The woman tilted her head to me and she made me cease all because her face was a breath-taker. The woman has bob cut hair, straight brownish brows, small yet rounded innocent eyes and a beautiful smile on her peach-colored lips. Her beige dress is simple, yet dandy-ish in style. In short, she’s the epitome of elegant, but cute like a fairy. “Miss,” she said while walking closer.

The elevator chimed softly before sliding open and Maria looked up. A woman in her mid-forties stepped out with quiet elegance, the kind of presence that turned heads without effort. Her hair, a rich chestnut brown, was styled in smooth waves that rested neatly over her shoulders, catching the light with every step. Her makeup was subtle but flawless—soft rose lipstick, lightly defined eyes, and perfectly shaped brows that framed her composed expression.

"Sure, polite. Got it." She dressed deliberately. Her softest black tank hugged her curves like silk, showing the arch of her waist and the generous curve of her breasts. She paired it with snug jeans that framed her hips and long legs. Her dark curls were tamed into a high ponytail that bounced with every step. She bit her lip in the mirror, spritzed the faintest vanilla-amber perfume on her neck, and smiled. She wasn’t just going to drop off herbs. She was going to be seen.

My eyes keep gravitating to the two women on the corner, to their long legs and short skirts. One of them wears thigh high leather boots like the ones that Julia Roberts sported in “Pretty Woman”. The similarity ends there, though, for there’s nothing pretty about this woman’s face. Her tense expression only briefly switches to fake inviting smiles as she follows the passing cars with her eyes. Thick layer of makeup fails to properly conceal what could be either severe acne or meth marks on her cheeks.

Haha. But on the other side, it's just happen that she never got a good education. If she does, she'll be a one of a hell-ass gold digger. I know her kind. Women like her were nothing but Just a pretty face. But I'll admit, I'm getting into her sweet appearance. She has looks that everyone will turn their heads twice. And I'm just a man. A man who has needs. And needs that I need her to fulfill. I know I am being a perv whenever I'm seeing her. I always want to gaze at her round-bump and hell knows how much I've been dying to touch it.

I stifled a yawn as I shuffled through the brochures that just came in freshly after printing for the exhibit next month. Last night, Liam told me he has never watched Pretty Woman and that I felt was outrageously insulting. So I got the DVD and made him watch it and just like everyone else it took no time for him to fall in love with Vivienne Ward. Julia Roberts had her style.

He was ruthless and so insensitive! Dearest Miss Pretty: You're wrong when you thought I did not notice the change of your style. You actually looked good in your outfit that time but I guess you don't have to change just for me to like you. You just don't know how adorable you are just simply being you.

Emily considered herself plain, average, long and filled with bones. She was lucky she got signed for deals and shit. If anyone told her she is pretty, she would just react in the same way someone would compliment her posture. She was slightly above average. There is nothing to be happy about. Unlike her friend, Dalia who was dainty and full and this woman whose hair was so soft. Hera on the other hand kept her eyes on the other woman whose emotions passed through her eyes like waterfall. There were so many that Hera wondered what made her worry.